Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

By any reasonable standard, Li Ang was still too young to be compared to other established stars in terms of footballing status.

It wasn’t that he didn’t measure up—simply that most people hadn’t even considered making such comparisons. At twenty-one, not yet twenty-two, he was still firmly in the ”promising youngster” category.

Maybe in another year or two, after he’d accumulated more appearances in the Champions League and collected a few more prestigious honors, fans and pundits would naturally begin drawing comparisons to others in his position. At that point, even if the rest of the world held back, his own supporters would be the ones holding him up against the best.

But right now? Honestly, most Real Madrid fans hadn’t even thought to compare Li Ang with someone like Yaya Touré, a veteran star with years of accolades under his belt.

If it weren’t for that cheeky top-five defensive midfielder ranking published by Sky Sports, the narrative wouldn’t have exploded after Madrid’s commanding win over Manchester City.

When Li Ang heard how viral the debate had become the following day, his first instinct was to contact Jorge Mendes for some PR damage control.

But Mendes saw it differently.

”This is something every rising star goes through,” he said. ”Once you gain enough fame, fans and the media will start comparing you—first to your contemporaries, and then to players from a decade or more ago. It’s inevitable.”

”So what are you suggesting?”

”Let them talk. We don’t have to fuel it—but as long as the narrative doesn’t turn against you, the more they debate, the more attention you gain.”

In the end, Mendes convinced him. Or perhaps more accurately, Li Ang simply didn’t care enough to interfere, as long as it didn’t turn toxic or lead to his fans belittling other professionals.

And if it came down to statistical comparisons and match results? Then yes, if he won, he’d own it. No need for false humility.

Having cleared the air, Li Ang relaxed.

As for Mendes’ brief mention of this year’s Ballon d’Or, Li Ang didn’t expect much.

2022 was a tournament year. There was no suspense—the award would inevitably go to a player from Barcelona or Real Madrid.

And no question who was taking it: Cristiano Ronaldo, who had already claimed five trophies this year and smashed two single-season scoring records.

Li Ang didn’t even know if he’d make the final Ballon d’Or top twenty—not that he’d pinned any hopes on it.

The role he played was important tactically, but it was not one that lent itself to the kind of standout performances that impressed the masses. Compared to flashy attacking players, he still lagged behind in visibility.

Maybe once he added more attacking weapons to his game and compiled a stronger individual stat line, he could break into the top twenty—or even top ten.

But that was still far off.

He was still miles away from football’s absolute summit.

※※※

With the first round of Champions League group games wrapped up, Real Madrid finally got a breather.

This wasn’t like the pause for the international break—there were no national team duties, no league matches.

Just a full week off for every La Liga player.

Mourinho, not one to be stingy, gave everyone three days of complete rest.

Players who’d played World Cup qualifiers, returned, and then gone straight into league and European matches could finally breathe.

Even Li Ang didn’t stay behind for extra training this time.

Because he was moving—from his old rented apartment to a private villa with a garden.

To celebrate, he invited the entire first team to his new home for a proper housewarming party.

Some players couldn’t make it due to family obligations, but they still sent along gifts through teammates.

Aside from his current teammates, Li Ang also invited Isco and Griezmann—though both declined with the excuse of spending time with their girlfriends. Li Ang gave them a good teasing before blackmailing them into treating him to a few dinners.

Although not everyone could make it, some of his old friends did show up.

”Zlatan!”

”Little Lion!”

When Ibrahimović and Li Ang laid eyes on each other, they shouted out in unison and burst into laughter.

After a big bear hug, Li Ang turned to Khedira, exchanging grins and a fist bump with his former comrade.

Soon after, Kaká and Thiago Silva arrived together. Though Thiago Silva was still at Milan and hadn’t joined Zlatan in moving to PSG, he had made the trip with Kaká to attend Li Ang’s party.

Seeing them both brought a genuine smile to Li Ang’s face. These were teammates he had sweated with and won titles alongside—the bonds were real and lasting.

After ushering everyone in, Li Ang turned and waved to the crowd of journalists who had gathered outside the villa gates.

With the press staring hungrily, Li Ang grinned and closed the front door.

Soon, music thumped from the backyard, and every so often, bursts of raucous male laughter erupted from within.

The paparazzi stationed outside exchanged bewildered looks.

”Wait… there really weren’t any girls?”

”I staked out this place last night. I’m telling you—Li Ang’s catering staff was all men, not a single pretty young lady showed up.”

”You’re serious? He invited only teammates and old buddies? That’s not a party, that’s just dinner.”

”Whatever. We still need something for our editors, or they’ll have our heads.”

The media were clearly frustrated.

No women. No scandal. No story.

Unless someone like Zlatan and Ronaldo started bickering in the middle of the party, there wasn’t even a whisper of drama.

But a few especially resourceful paparazzi managed to get some blurry photos from elevated positions nearby.

So, the next day, the front pages of Spain’s sports media didn’t feature juicy celebrity gossip.

Instead, the top story was something… oddly wholesome.

”Don’t Go to Li Ang’s Parties!”

Just the headline alone piqued everyone’s curiosity.

Fans—Madridistas and rivals alike—snapped up papers wanting to know what on earth Li Ang had done to provoke such a warning.

Inside, they found grainy images and hilarious commentary:

”There were no girls. Just a bunch of guys. A bunch of star footballers.

After everyone had eaten and had a few drinks, Li Ang herded his guests into the backyard, where he’d set up a mini shooting pitch.

From the expressions and body language of players like Zlatan, it’s clear no one saw this coming—except Cristiano.

Li Ang, for reasons unknown, volunteered to go in goal.

And so began a long and hilarious round of shots-on-goal, in which every player scored. Repeatedly.”

One photo showed Li Ang, removing his gloves and refusing to be a ”punching bag” any longer.

In the next, he sat in the goalmouth, hands raised, surrounded by his laughing friends.

Fans loved it.

It was far more entertaining than the usual tabloid fluff.

Real Madrid fans, in particular, were touched to see familiar faces like Kaká and Khedira again.

They reminisced.

Time softened memories. Whatever complaints fans once had about those players faded away. Now, all that remained were warm memories.

Of course, if either of them actually transferred back to Madrid, the grumbling might start up again. But that’s just human nature.

For both players, that summer had likely marked the perfect, dignified goodbye to their Real Madrid journeys.

※※※

On September 22, Real Madrid returned to training.

All eyes were fixed on the upcoming calendar.

October 7.

After four more league games, Madrid would face Barcelona for the first time in La Liga this season.

Nobody mentioned the Supercopa anymore—not even Barça fans. And Madrid? They couldn’t care less.

Last season’s results hadn’t settled anything. The Supercopa didn’t settle it either.

So the league? The league would settle it.

Barça had started the season with four straight wins and sat atop the table.

Madrid, with one game in hand, had won three and were currently fourth.

But few doubted they’d win their make-up game against Granada.

If both sides kept winning, the upcoming Clásico could once again become the defining match of the title race.

Last season, it came late.

This season?

The ”Father-Son Match” was coming early.

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Read 40 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10