I Am Jose-Chapter 91 - : The Sharp-Eyed Madridista

Negotiations with Capdevila and Gamarra went smoothly. At the same time, Burgos and Biagini swiftly entered talks with Atlético Madrid.

Burgos had grown weary of his time at Mallorca. Being overshadowed by a young goalkeeper who had never even been called up to the Argentina national team frustrated him immensely. He was willing to drop down to the Segunda División just to get away. As for Biagini, he missed his time at Atlético. Losing his starting spot at Mallorca made him eager for a change of scenery.

It was common knowledge that Capdevila didn't want to play in the Segunda División. He had already cooperated with Deportivo La Coruña when they pursued him, but the transfer stalled due to financial issues. His performances in the first half of the season weren't particularly impressive, and with Romero excelling at Deportivo, they cooled their interest in him. Under these circumstances, Mallorca—who had recently picked up form—turned their attention to him, and he was more than willing to cooperate.

Gamarra, on the other hand, was the consummate professional. Atlético had managed without him for half a season. A return to South America was complicated—clubs there couldn't afford his wages or transfer fee. A move back to La Liga suited him just fine.

Eventually, Capdevila signed a five-year contract worth $500,000, while Gamarra agreed to a three-year deal worth $600,000. Their wages remained roughly the same as at Atlético, so there were no objections.

A day later, the agreements were finalized, set to take effect once the winter transfer window opened.

After securing these transfers, José didn't rush back to Mallorca. He had another objective to accomplish in Madrid.

He still had $6.5 million in transfer funds. Though he had swapped two players and $2 million for Atlético's duo, the $2 million fee from Stanković's sale balanced out the expense, leaving him in a comfortable financial position.

His next target? Another Madrid club—Real Madrid.

Readers could probably guess by now—none other than Mallorca's former attacking dynamo from last season, Samuel Eto'o.

Eto'o had endured a miserable season. He had been confident that his impressive performances at Mallorca would convince Real Madrid's management and coach Vicente del Bosque to give him a real chance. But then the summer upheaval happened—Lorenzo Sanz, the president who backed Pirri, lost the election. Florentino Pérez took over, immediately breaking the world transfer record to sign Luís Figo. Along with Figo came Celades, Munitis, and Solari. Though Anelka had left, Eto'o's situation didn't improve at all.

Del Bosque placed his faith in a striking duo of Raúl and Morientes. Figo and McManaman were untouchable on the wings, while Solari and Munitis provided additional options. Eto'o's opportunities shrank to almost nothing. Half a season in, he had made just two substitute appearances—fewer than he had before being loaned to Mallorca.

To make matters worse, his mentor, Pirri, had resigned as Real Madrid's technical director following the front-office shakeup. His replacement? The legendary Argentine forward and Real Madrid icon, Jorge Valdano. With no allies left in the club, Eto'o's position became even more precarious.

If not for the fact that Madrid's only reliable strikers were Raúl and Morientes, Eto'o might have been relegated to the reserves.

José was convinced that in this situation, Eto'o's only real option was to leave Madrid.

He also had insight into Florentino Pérez's preferences—there was a certain degree of racial bias in his transfer policies. While Pérez never publicly expressed any racist views, his track record spoke volumes. During his tenure, Real Madrid barely signed any Black players. The sole exception this season was Claude Makélélé. The only other notable case was Ronaldo, who was mixed-race. The likes of Drenthe, Marcelo, and the two Diarras—Mahamadou and Lassana—were all signed when Pérez was out of office.

Even Makélélé, whom Pérez personally signed, was treated unfairly. Given Makélélé's importance to the team, his annual salary of €1.5 million was embarrassingly low. When he asked for a mere €1 million raise, Pérez refused outright. Yet, he had no problem splashing out over £3.5 million per year to bring in David Beckham. This blatant disparity pushed Makélélé to the breaking point, leading him to demand a transfer.

With such a precedent, it was no surprise that Pérez had completely sidelined Eto'o. Part of it was because Eto'o was a signing from the Sanz administration via Pirri, but José was certain that his ethnicity played a role, too.

Despite all this, José didn't go to Eto'o first. Instead, he sought out another person.

In a quiet café in Madrid, Pirri sat across from the young man before him, filled with nostalgia.

Just last January, he had still been Real Madrid's technical director, negotiating with José over a loan deal for Eto'o. Though José had succeeded in securing the loan, both of them knew it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Mallorca got a top-tier striker, while Madrid got their young talent developed. José had also kept his promise—beating Barcelona in La Liga. Though Mallorca couldn't stop Deportivo and Valencia from contending for the title, denying Barça the championship was already a win for Madrid.

In less than a year, José had transformed. No longer just a bold young coach, he was now a UEFA Cup-winning manager, Mallorca's sporting director, and the club's largest shareholder. Despite his age, from a footballing perspective, he was already a success.

Pirri, on the other hand, had gone from being a respected club official to a near-forgotten figure, drawing a salary while sitting at home. Though he had lived a successful life—first as a footballer, then as an executive at one of the world's biggest clubs—he couldn't help but feel envious.

He wasn't too old to work. His vision was still sharp, his judgment still keen. But at Real Madrid, he no longer had a place. Pérez trusted Valdano and Emilio Butragueño, not a Sanz loyalist like him.

At a club like Madrid, where the president was elected, politics mattered just as much as football. Pirri had backed the wrong side.

"José, I didn't expect you to come looking for an old man like me," Pirri said with a smile. "What can I get you? Coffee?"

"Thanks. I think I need it right now," José replied. He wasn't a regular coffee drinker, but he wasn't picky either. The past few days of constant travel had left him exhausted.

"You're here for Eto'o, aren't you? Mallorca could use a striker like him right now," Pirri remarked casually once the waiter had left.

José nodded slightly. He knew he couldn't fool Pirri, and he didn't intend to. Pirri had thrived as Real Madrid's technical director not just because of his club connections, but because of his razor-sharp eye for talent and team-building.

However, José didn't immediately dive into the Eto'o topic. Instead, he brought up something else.

"I read your 'Pirri Report.' It was brilliant."

Pirri let out a bitter smile. That infamous report—meant for internal circulation only—had been leaked to the media, costing him his job.

In it, he had analyzed 19 of Madrid's 33 players, and most of his assessments were harsh. Had it remained confidential, it wouldn't have been an issue. But once it became public, the backlash from the criticized players had been enough to fracture the club internally.

His evaluations had been brutally accurate:

Geremi and McManaman weren't suited for Madrid.Guti had talent but lacked discipline—if a good offer came, he should be sold.Anelka had elite potential but was too introverted and divisive—selling him was the best option.Morientes had lost confidence and form—he should be moved on as well.

Even though Pirri had also praised players like Raúl, Casillas, and Roberto Carlos, the negativity outweighed the positives.

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José, however, saw something else in the report: stunning foresight.

If Pirri wasn't a time traveler, José would have thought he was. His predictions had been eerily accurate.

A man with such a sharp eye for talent shouldn't be left on the sidelines.