I Am Jose-Chapter 90 - : The Best President in Atlético Madrid’s History - Gil

After chatting with Gil for a bit, José felt that this old man—who was rumored to have done plenty of shady things—actually had a club management style that aligned with his own. Meanwhile, Gil saw a younger version of himself in José's attitude.

As for how Gil made his first fortune—whether it was from unauthorized construction projects, bribing and befriending politicians to become mayor, or even the fact that he had been imprisoned twice and faced legal charges five times—what did any of that have to do with José?

Mallorca and Atlético Madrid had always had a good relationship, which was quite odd when you considered their ties with Real Madrid. Despite this, Mallorca had maintained a steady flow of player exchanges with Atlético. It was surprising, really—befriending two clubs that were sworn enemies. This was largely thanks to the influence of old Asensio, whose maneuvering skills played a key role in keeping both Madrid giants on good terms with Mallorca.

After some small talk, the negotiations officially began.

Gil was a wily old fox—otherwise, he wouldn't have led such a turbulent life. José, while still young, had the advantage of a rebirth, making him exceptionally sharp. More importantly, his bargaining chip was his knowledge of future events.

"José, there's no need to say much about the relationship between our two clubs... Atlético may be in the Segunda División, but we're still capable of spending money on players. Boghossian and Biagini—three million for both. That's a fair deal for two backup players."

To be fair, Gil's offer wasn't unreasonable. Boghossian had come to Mallorca practically for free, while Biagini had cost them three million at the time. However, Biagini was not the same player he used to be.

Atlético was in desperate need of funds. While they had some budget for transfers, their wage bill was a huge burden. Boghossian and Biagini didn't have high salaries, making them a better investment than signing free agents with high wages. Even so, Atlético still had some high-earning players they needed to offload—and among them was someone José had his eyes on.

"Mr. Gil, you know we're planning to spend 15 million this winter to strengthen the squad... If we start selling players instead of buying, the pressure on us will be enormous. The fans won't be happy... How about this? I'll take just one million from you, but you have to include a player in the deal." José grinned.

"What player?" Gil asked, puzzled.

"Fernando Torres." José chuckled. "I really like that young lad. He can't play yet, but I have high hopes for his future."

"That's impossible, young man." Gil's face turned stern. "Torres is Atlético's golden boy, our beacon of hope. He just won both the Golden Ball and Golden Boot at the European Under-16 Championship. A player like him—I won't let him go so easily. Besides, Torres himself is a loyal Atlético fan. Right after winning the youth tournament, he signed a new contract with the club. Even if I agreed, he wouldn't leave."

José scratched his head. "Let me put it this way, Mr. Gil... I know no one would willingly give up a young talent like him. But for Torres' own good, I think he should leave Atlético. The club is rebuilding, aiming for promotion, and the pressure is immense. He's not even seventeen yet. Can he really handle all that responsibility?

More importantly—and I mean no offense—Atlético doesn't need a 'future star' right now. You need players who can make an immediate impact. And let's be honest, with Kiko still around, where does Torres fit in? Kiko is the king of Atlético. And Torres? He's just the golden boy. Until the king falls, the prince will never have a chance to rise."

Gil smiled bitterly. "José, I'll be honest with you. I don't actually care that much about Torres. He's just another young player, and I don't think he's going to be Atlético's savior. But you have to understand the position he holds in the hearts of Atlético fans.

We're not a member-owned club, but the opinion of the fans still matters. If I sell Torres now, every Atlético supporter will turn against me. I'm an old man now. The only thing I have left, besides money, is the support of Atlético fans. If I lose that, what's left for me?

Besides, I've already been under immense pressure for disbanding Atlético's youth academy back then. That was a mistake I can't afford to make twice."

José fell silent, then let out a wry smile.

Gil really had gotten old... Ten years ago, he had ruthlessly shut down the club's youth academy without hesitation. Even when Raúl later became a legend for Real Madrid, Gil never showed a hint of regret. But the man in front of José now was no longer that arrogant, outspoken brute—just an aging man trying to hold onto his place in the hearts of Atlético fans.

For a brief moment, José actually felt sorry for Gil.

"José, I like you, so I'll be frank. Torres is off the table. If you want any other players, we can negotiate—especially the ones with high wages. Atlético can't afford them anymore. If you agree, name your targets. If not, well, then let me treat you to dinner, and you can pass on my regards to old Alemany."

With things laid out like this, what else could José say?

Besides, Mallorca wasn't in desperate need of a striker right now. Torres wouldn't be able to play until next season anyway.

And honestly, Atlético was already in such a miserable state... Maybe it was best to let them keep their golden boy.

Even so, José couldn't help but feel a little regret. He truly believed he could save Torres. While Torres had performed brilliantly for both Atlético and Liverpool, his career at Chelsea had been a disaster. José knew that part of the reason was that Torres had carried too much responsibility at a young age.

As the youngest player in Atlético history to make his debut and the club's youngest-ever captain, Torres had endured relentless pressure. While he never suffered major injuries, he constantly played through minor ones. By the time he moved to Chelsea, his body had already been worn down. His struggles there were simply the culmination of years of accumulated issues.

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If José had managed him, he would have taken a more cautious approach. Rest when injured, ease the pressure, and provide a better environment for his development. In José's view, Torres' downfall was simply the result of early overuse catching up with him.

But since he couldn't bring Torres to Mallorca, there was nothing he could do. He wasn't a miracle worker—he couldn't save everyone.

After a moment of thought, José perked up again and said to Gil, "Alright, if that's the case, I won't push you... How about this? I'll add two million dollars and take these two players instead."

Both were defensive players.

The first was Joan Capdevila, Atlético's versatile left-sided player. In history, Capdevila was supposed to transfer to Deportivo after Atlético's relegation, but for some reason, he stayed. Seeing this, José wasn't about to let the opportunity slip.

The second player was Paraguayan defender Carlos Gamarra.

Gamarra had only played one season for Atlético. While he was a regular starter, his performances were average. When Atlético got relegated, no big clubs came for him. To save on wages, the club loaned him to Flamengo, where he barely played.

With his hefty $600,000 salary, Atlético was eager to get rid of him. But for Mallorca, that wage was manageable, and Gamarra was a solid defender with a future in Serie A.

Gil thought for a moment before nodding. "Deal."