Tactically, there’s the sheet. After a defeat against Atlético, José Mourinho turned up with a printed sheet. That spoke to me straight away. I’ve got the same one in my folder, since 2011, except mine is in biro and has coffee on it.
After Betis, he asked “por qué?”. That’s a team talk I know. I do it on Sunday at five, in the prefab, when we’ve conceded three on the slope. Except I have the answer: the pitch. There’s also the time he didn’t show up to a press conference after running onto the pitch. I won’t comment. Here, after the match there’s no press conference, there’s the clubhouse bar, and I always show up.
On Sunday night he plays his first clásico of this spell at Real, three months after arriving. Real are two years without a trophy. Barcelona beat them four times in the first of those two seasons, 16 goals scored, a domestic treble, title with two weeks to spare. Last year, title with three weeks to spare, winning a clásico along the way. And in his first spell in Madrid, his first clásico ended 5-0 to Barcelona. I bow to the numbers. My keeper does as well, he bows to most things.
Mourinho is going back to the ground where he arrived 30 years ago as Bobby Robson’s young interpreter. I started as an assistant too. The previous gaffer didn’t talk, so I translated his gestures for the players. Then he went off fishing.
A printed sheet after Atlético, Freddy, that’s historic. I’m weighing my words.
He said the clásico is just another game, but that saying it’s a game like any other would be a lie. My derby against the village next door is the same. A flat pitch away, mind you.
It’s true, we checked: The Guardian.
