I Am Jose-Chapter 84 - : The Direction of the Youth Team

Vázquez resigned. José returned.

The news caused a moderate stir in La Liga.

It shouldn't have been such big news, really. Sure, Mallorca had been ranked among the world's top eight teams in 1999 due to their impressive performances, even if they were at the bottom of that list. That was still an incredible achievement. But at the end of the day, this was a team that had been in the Segunda División just two seasons ago. They were, at best, a mid-table club. And in a football world where managers get sacked like it's a daily routine, a coaching change at a mid-table club wasn't exactly groundbreaking.

However, José's results from last season had been too remarkable to ignore. Add to that the spectacle of a club's majority shareholder taking over as manager, and it was no surprise that Mallorca had the media buzzing for days.

For many, this was great news.

At Mallorca's B-team training base, two players had been left in limbo.

At the end of last season, they had been sent back to the reserves. Technically, their contracts still tied them to the B team. And when Vázquez took over, he completely ignored Mallorca B—the squad that had practically been José's private garden. Even when the first team was short on players, he never even considered calling up reinforcements from the reserves.

Thiago Motta and Albert Luque had gained valuable experience from training with the first team and playing in the UEFA Cup. Their performances in the Segunda División had only improved. But the thrill was gone.

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After experiencing the adrenaline of a European final, how could they get excited about second-division football again?

So while Mallorca B was performing well—staying in the top six of the Segunda since the start of the season—Luque and Motta were growing more and more frustrated.

Motta, being just 18, could still afford to be patient. But Luque was running out of time. His performances in the Segunda had drawn attention from various clubs in both La Liga and the Segunda. Despite not having an agent yet, scouts had already begun approaching him.

Luque was on the verge of making a decision—one that could have mirrored Stankovic's fate.

But then, news broke that José was returning to Mallorca.

It came just in time.

José was barely back before flying off on a scouting mission, but for Luque, that was enough.

He wasn't leaving. He was staying.

Luque firmly believed that José would not abandon him.

And he was right.

November 16th, in the afternoon.

As the B team wrapped up training, two familiar figures stood on the sidelines.

"Thiago, Albert. Starting tomorrow, report to the first team."

José's words were brief and to the point.

But to the two young players, it was like hearing music from the heavens.

José lingered on the pitch, chatting with B-team manager Mesquida. Motta and Luque, struggling to contain their excitement, quickly excused themselves.

Only when they were out of sight did they turn to each other—seeing the same wild joy reflected in each other's eyes.

"Did you hear that, Albert?" Motta almost shouted. "The boss is back, and on the very first day, he's calling us up to the first team!"

"That's right! Not at the end of the season—right at the start!" Luque pumped his fist. "I knew it. Those old guys are only for the present. We are the future! The boss knows that better than anyone!"

"Once we're in the first team, we have to work even harder," Motta said firmly, as if making a vow to both Luque and himself. "We have to earn a starting spot as soon as possible."

"You're damn right!" Luque laughed. "You set them up, I score. We'll be Mallorca's best duo!"

As Luque and Motta celebrated, José continued his conversation with Mesquida.

"Thiago and Albert leaving... that won't affect the B team too much, will it?" José asked.

"There will be an impact, sure, but it's manageable," Mesquida replied. "The team is doing well in the standings, so it's not a big issue."

"Besides, that kid we signed from Xerez last year—he's been great. Scored more than Albert, even. He doesn't have Luque's technical ability, but he's got a killer instinct in front of goal."

"Oh? You mean Daniel?" José asked after thinking for a moment.

"Yeah, that's him. Not the tallest, but physically solid. Good at holding his ground and sharp in the box. Still has a few rough edges, but give him two years, and he could be a real asset for the first team."

José nodded. The name Daniel Güiza was familiar.

He would later become La Liga's top scorer. Even made it to the Spanish national team. Scored in the Euros.

Then Mallorca, strapped for cash, sold him to a Turkish club.

And after that... nothing.

"He's got potential," José thought. "Just... not quite ready yet."

Maybe a loan would be the best option.

Mesquida noticed José lost in thought and raised an eyebrow.

"Well? You gonna stand around all day?"

José snapped out of it and laughed. "Relax, Juan. Can't I spend a little time with the B team?"

"Hmph. This is my turf now," Mesquida said, pointing to himself with a smirk.

"Fine, fine. I'm not here to steal your job." José waved him off. "Actually, I wanted to discuss something important with you."

Half an hour later.

"You're saying... you want to develop Mallorca B into something like La Masia? A structured academy with the primary goal of supplying talent to the first team?"

"That's the general idea," José nodded. "I haven't fully mapped out a tactical philosophy yet, but there are a few core principles I want to establish."

"Such as?"

"Possession-based football. Focus on passing awareness and teamwork. Every generation of players should have at least one midfield general—someone like Motta—to keep the team organized. I want our players to be trained in off-the-ball movement and high pressing. The tactics might change in detail, but the overall philosophy will stay the same.

"Passing should be structured around triangles. Teamwork over individualism. I don't want players who rely solely on dribbling. I want a squad that functions as a unit. These players will form the backbone of Mallorca.

"As for the other types of players—the flair players, the stars—we can buy them from the transfer market."

José was borrowing from Barcelona's model but with a twist.

He wasn't trying to build a squad where every piece came from the academy. That was an idealistic fantasy. Instead, he wanted a system that would keep producing reliable players—players who could be mass-produced.

That way, even if a star player was poached by a bigger club, Mallorca wouldn't collapse.

Just like Udinese in the late '90s, who kept selling their best players—yet always managed to produce more.

By constantly developing talent and selling high-profile players, Mallorca could grow financially while maintaining its strength.

And there was another advantage.

By focusing on developing well-rounded, disciplined players instead of young prodigies, they could avoid being raided by Premier League clubs exploiting Spain's contract loopholes.

Barcelona had lost Fabregas and Piqué this way.

José wasn't going to let that happen to Mallorca.

Of course, he knew he was playing with fire. But with the club's fragile finances, he had no choice.

His grand vision for Mallorca would require a fortune to sustain.

And since his "cheat system" was still useless, he could only do things the hard way.

José sighed internally.

"Am I not supposed to be the protagonist of this damn story? Where's my plot armor? My cheat code? At least let me have Xiao Ming's fortune so I can invest in Google..."

But deep down, he knew the rules of this game weren't negotiable.

With that thought, he pushed aside all unrealistic dreams and focused back on reality.

"Alright," José said. "That's the plan. As long as Mallorca B stays in the Segunda, our priority is developing players—not chasing promotion."

Mesquida nodded. It wasn't an unreasonable plan.

And if anyone could pull it off, it was José.