Football: I am the coach of Atlético de Madrid.

Chapter 5

"That rookie coach at Atlético isn't so simple after all," said Málaga's assistant coach, Manolo Hierro, as he reviewed Atlético Madrid's recent match footage alongside head coach Joaquín Peiró.

The Hierro family was well-known in Málaga and the surrounding areas as a football dynasty. Among its most prominent members were the three Hierro brothers, with Fernando Hierro captaining Real Madrid. The second brother, Manolo Hierro, sat beside Peiró now, assisting him.

Manolo Hierro had an impressive career, starting at Málaga, gaining fame at Real Valladolid, and even playing for Barcelona before finishing at Tenerife. Post-retirement, he returned to Málaga to help guide the club. Meanwhile, Fernando Hierro, though initially considered less talented than his siblings, had risen to fame thanks to Manolo's recommendation to Valladolid.

Joaquín Peiró, once a player and coach at Atlético Madrid, was now Málaga's head coach. His perspective on the young Atlético manager was measured but respectful.

"I've reviewed that match against Barcelona several times," Peiró said. "There's a lot of immaturity in his decisions—some substitutions were poorly timed—but overall, he handled things well. He's definitely a rookie, but he's surprisingly capable."

Beating Barcelona 4–1 in a debut match was an achievement few could claim. However, Peiró knew that success in one game meant little compared to the monumental task of saving Atlético from relegation.

"Do you think he'll go all-in for three points this weekend?" Manolo Hierro asked.

"Absolutely," Peiró responded confidently. "If they don't secure a win soon, their hopes of staying up will vanish."

His tone carried a mix of sentimentality and determination. As someone with ties to Atlético, he felt for the club, but as Málaga's coach, his duty was clear: do whatever it took to help his team climb into European qualification contention.

"So, what's your plan?" Hierro asked.

Peiró didn't hesitate. "We'll defend."

"Defend?" Hierro raised an eyebrow in surprise. Málaga, after all, often played aggressively against lower-ranked teams.

"If not for their 4–1 win over Barcelona, I might have considered pressing them. But now, I think it's better to play it safe."

"Don't you think that's overly cautious?" Hierro queried, his expression skeptical.

"You're the one who said that young coach isn't simple," Peiró countered. "I believe he'll aim for a fast start. He'll try to strike first."

Hierro paused, then nodded. The logic was sound.

If Atlético planned to attack early, Málaga couldn't afford to meet them head-on. A direct confrontation would play to Atlético's strengths, and Málaga wasn't built for that kind of duel. Their true power lay in counterattacks.

"But I'm concerned about one thing," Peiró admitted. "That 4–2–3–1 formation he used against Barcelona—it wasn't fully refined. He's only had three days with the team."

Peiró's insight as an experienced coach allowed him to identify the potential in Atlético's tactics. Yang Hao's version of the 4–2–3–1 was distinct from Deportivo's or Celta Vigo's.

For instance, Atlético's play often leaned heavily toward the left flank, pushing left-back Capdevila forward while right-back Gaspar stayed back. This created an asymmetric formation, with Valerón orchestrating connections between the wings.

Barcelona had attempted to sever Valerón's link to the right flank during their match. However, this only opened opportunities for Valerón to thread incisive passes to Capdevila or Solari on the left.

"The real question is," Peiró mused aloud, "how do we handle Valerón? Do we assign one man to shadow him? Or two?"

Málaga's preferred 4–4–2 formation was solid defensively, but its inherent structure left gaps against creative players like Valerón.

Tactical Chess Match

Peiró and Hierro continued to analyze Atlético's tactical tendencies. They noted how Pablo García, Atlético's left-footed holding midfielder, contributed to the team's build-up play. His ability to support both offense and defense on the left flank added another layer of complexity to Atlético's system.

"They're going to keep targeting that left side," Peiró predicted. "Solari, Valerón, Capdevila, and even García—they'll focus on overloading that flank."

"And what about their press?" Hierro asked. "Do you think they'll try high pressing again?"

"If they do, it'll be risky," Peiró replied. "Their squad lacks the legs for sustained pressing. But if they can execute it early, just long enough to get the lead, it might work."

"That's a gamble," Hierro remarked.

"It is. But they don't have a choice."

Both men understood the stakes. For Atlético, every match was a must-win. For Málaga, this game was another step toward their European dreams.

"Get ready for a battle," Peiró concluded.

Málaga's Strategy

As Málaga prepared for the match, their players were briefed on Atlético's tendencies. Peiró emphasized discipline and focus, particularly on managing Valerón's influence.

"We can't afford to lose our shape," he warned. "If they break through on the left, we'll be in trouble."

Despite the challenges, Peiró had confidence in his team's defensive structure and counterattacking prowess. With players like Catanha and Darío Silva leading the line, Málaga had the tools to punish any lapses from Atlético.

As the weekend approached, both teams worked tirelessly to refine their plans. For Yang Hao, the game represented another opportunity to prove himself. For Peiró, it was a chance to outwit a promising young rival.

The stage was set for a tactical showdown.

"How will they stop Baraja's late runs into the box?"

After listening to Joaquín Peiró's analysis, Manolo Hierro showed a worried expression.

"To think, this kid, so young and without any playing experience, could come up with such a tactical setup—and actually make it work for Atlético's players," Hierro mused, disbelief etched on his face.

It truly defied expectations.

"Is it possible there really are such things as tactical geniuses in this world?"

"Who knows?" Joaquín Peiró replied with a wry laugh. "Maybe there really are."

Málaga faced a tough conundrum. Their right flank, where Rufete operated, was a critical part of their attack. If Rufete had to drop back to defend Atlético's left side, Málaga's offense would become isolated and passive.

Peiró sighed deeply, a mix of emotions surfacing.

"I've played football for over twenty years, coached for another twenty. And now, I find myself outsmarted by a kid barely out of his twenties," Peiró admitted, shaking his head with a self-deprecating chuckle.

As a veteran coach with a storied career, Peiró had long since moved past the pursuit of fame and fortune. What drove him now was a desire to solidify his legacy and prove his worth.

Peiró's coaching career could be divided into two phases, with his appointment at Badajoz in December 1997 as the turning point. Before Badajoz, he endured a five-year period of unemployment. During this time, he turned down offers for short-term roles, opting instead to focus on refining his tactical philosophy.

This reflective period allowed him to analyze his eight years in Serie A with Torino, Inter Milan, and Roma—years that had exposed him to the tactical revolutions of the Grande Inter era, the innovations of Arrigo Sacchi's Milan, and the pragmatic strategies of Fabio Capello.

By the time Peiró took over at Badajoz, he had developed a distinctive tactical approach, which earned him a long-term contract with Málaga. Under his leadership, the club rose from the Segunda División to become a solid mid-table team in La Liga.

But now, as Peiró observed the ever-evolving tactical landscape of European football, he sensed another wave of transformation on the horizon. He feared he might not have the time to catch up.

At 64 years old, Peiró knew the world of professional football belonged to the young. The same was true of coaching.

Still, revolutionizing his methods or not, Peiró wasn't about to be easily cast aside.

Five years of preparation had culminated in three years of remarkable success, and despite his age, Peiró's determination burned as fiercely as ever. If he were destined to be surpassed by the next generation, he was resolved to leave his mark first.

"Let's see if that kid has what it takes to break through our defense!" Peiró declared, his eyes blazing with newfound determination.

The Battle Lines Drawn

Manolo Hierro silently observed Peiró. He held great respect for the veteran coach, and it was precisely this admiration that led him to take on the role of assistant.

While the transformation of Yang Hao's Atlético was concerning, Peiró's Málaga was no pushover.

What Hierro found most inspiring was the youthful energy Peiró exuded. Despite being in his sixties, Peiró seemed as eager to prove himself as a young coach chasing their first big break.

This passion and drive commanded Hierro's respect.

"Shall I begin preparations?" Hierro asked, ready to execute Peiró's plans.

Peiró nodded firmly. "Do it. If that kid at Atlético wants to stay up, he'll have to show he's got more than a few tricks up his sleeve."

Peiró's loyalty to Atlético ran deep, but at this moment, he was Málaga's head coach, above all else.

No matter how much sentimentality tugged at his heart, he was determined to push Atlético down and propel Málaga into a European competition spot.

Feeling Peiró's conviction and resolve, Hierro nodded in agreement.

The spirit and confidence of a team often stemmed from its coach. Málaga's rise owed much to Peiró's grit and unyielding belief in his methods.

Hierro couldn't help but anticipate the upcoming showdown at the Calderón. He was eager for the moment when Málaga would topple Atlético on their own turf.

Afternoon, Majadahonda Conference Room

The room was packed. Every coach, player, and staff member from Atlético Madrid's first team had squeezed into the not-so-spacious meeting room, waiting to hear what their young coach, Yang Hao, had to say in this, his first full team meeting.

When Yang Hao entered, accompanied by Juanma Lillo, César Mendiondo, and Paralales, all eyes turned to him, curiosity and anticipation filling the air.

The victory against Barcelona had come too quickly after his appointment to allow for a proper meeting. But this match against Málaga was different—it was a must-win, a battle to climb out of relegation.

This meeting was crucial.

Standing before a room full of seasoned professionals, Yang Hao couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves.

The pressure in a packed conference room was unlike the roar of 48,000 fans at the Calderón. Here, the audience was close—close enough to catch every shift in expression, every falter in his voice.

But Yang Hao understood something important: hesitation now would be fatal.

"This room is filled with the best football talent in the world."

Yang Hao began confidently, stepping off the stage and walking into the midst of the crowd.

His movement was deliberate. It sent a clear message: the center of gravity in this room wasn't the podium; it was him, wherever he stood.

Eyes followed him intently as he continued.

"Here, we have the world's best goalscorer."

He placed a hand on Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink's shoulder. The Dutch striker straightened visibly, pride radiating from his face.

"The world's best playmaker."

He patted Juan Carlos Valerón on the back.

"The world's best defensive midfielders."

This time, Rubén Baraja and Pablo García received the nod.

"And we have exceptional wingers, fullbacks, defenders, goalkeepers, coaches, staff, and, of course, the most passionate fans in the world."

As he circled the room, Yang Hao's words resonated, drawing the players' attention like a magnet. Finally, he returned to the stage and posed a question that sliced through the air like a dagger.

"With so much talent, with so many outstanding individuals, how on earth is this team on the verge of relegation?"

Silence fell over the room.

Atlético's strength was undeniable. Few squads in La Liga boasted as much talent as theirs. Yet here they were—struggling, floundering, on the brink of catastrophe.

Why?

The players themselves couldn't answer. No professional wants to face relegation, no matter how dysfunctional their team may be. It's a mark of failure that lingers, a blemish on even the most illustrious of careers.

Yang Hao let the question hang in the air for a moment before breaking the silence.

"Of course, discussing the past now is meaningless."

He shifted their focus, bringing them back to the present.

"The reality is this: we are in the relegation zone, and we've been here for far too long."

His voice was calm but firm. The players couldn't argue with the truth staring them in the face.

"I know some of you have already made arrangements with other clubs. Maybe you've even signed agreements, ready to leave this sinking ship the moment the season ends."

This remark stirred murmurs in the room, unease rippling through the crowd.

Yang Hao raised his voice, quelling the noise.

"That's fine. Honestly, if I were in your position, I might do the same. But I want you to think about something: is this team truly beyond saving?"

His words cast a spell over the room.

"Do you want to slink away from this club, bearing the shame of relegation? Or do you want to leave as heroes, proud of having fought to keep Atlético Madrid in La Liga?"

Yang Hao's questions pierced straight to the heart of the matter.

"If this team is relegated, it won't matter whether you stay or leave. Your names will forever be tied to this failure, a black mark on your careers that can never be erased. Is that what you want?"

Silence filled the room once again, heavier this time.

Even those who had already resigned themselves to leaving couldn't help but feel the weight of Yang Hao's words.

"We are in the relegation zone, but we are not finished."

Yang Hao's voice grew stronger, filled with resolve.

"Six matches remain. Imagine if we win them all—our fate changes completely. We secure survival. And I promise you this: if we succeed, I won't stop anyone who wishes to leave. But until then, I ask each and every one of you to put the past behind you, to focus entirely on the here and now."

"Play these final six matches with everything you have."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"We just beat Barcelona 4–1. That proved we have the talent to compete with anyone in this league. The new management has fulfilled their promises, paying your wages, bonuses, and appearance fees on time. They've shown their commitment."

"So tell me—what obstacle is left standing in our way?"

Heads nodded across the room. Yang Hao could see it—the spark of determination reigniting in his players.

They were starting to believe.

Especially those who played in the match against Barcelona or had personal conversations with him recently were deeply inspired.

"There are so many voices out there saying Atlético Madrid is finished. Six matches, four wins? Impossible," Yang Hao said, his voice laced with defiance.

Then, with a wry smile, he added, "But they're all wrong. We're not aiming for just four wins in six matches."

He paused, straightened his back, and, with intense energy, declared:

"We're aiming for six wins. We're going to finish this season with six straight victories!"

The passion in his voice electrified the room.

This was the core of Yang Hao's message.

Aiming for four wins in six matches to survive?

That wasn't enough.

Thinking this way meant the team might as well prepare for relegation.

What did Atlético need?

Total commitment. A do-or-die mindset to win every single match left in the season.

Otherwise, as Yang Hao put it bluntly: "Say hello to the Segunda División."

The players were visibly shaken, not just by the volume of his words but by the conviction behind them—the kind of unwavering resolve that said failure was not an option.

"What is a miracle?"

"People talk about the 'Danish Miracle' and the 'Kaiserslautern Miracle'... but let me ask you—what creates a miracle?"

Yang Hao's sharp eyes swept across the room.

Pointing at his audience one by one, he declared, "We do. Right here, right now, we are creating a miracle."

"If we, against all odds, lead Atlético Madrid to survival, we won't just have saved this club. We'll have made history. We will be the miracle makers everyone talks about for years to come."

He leaned in, his voice resonating with emotion.

"Opportunities like this don't come often. Are we ready to reach out, seize this moment, and give it everything we have? That's a choice only we can make."

With a clenched fist raised high, Yang Hao delivered the rallying cry:

"I've made my choice. I'm ready to fight. If you stand with me, let's walk this road together, side by side, and create our own miracle!"

As he finished, he scanned the room, his hand still raised.

Most of the room—players, coaches, staff—were visibly moved. Many clenched their own fists in unison, inspired by the sheer force of his words.

"My speech is over," Yang Hao concluded. "The road ahead is clear. The choice is yours."

Without another word, Yang Hao turned and walked out of the room.

As the door closed behind him, thunderous applause erupted inside. Cheers and shouts of enthusiasm echoed through the space.

But outside, Yang Hao exhaled deeply, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

He had given it everything.

"Wow! That was incredible!" exclaimed Parales, still staring at the now-closed door.

The young trainer's face was lit with awe, his voice almost trembling. "That was one of the most inspiring speeches I've ever heard. He's like a movie hero!"

His eyes shone with admiration.

"Honestly, he might have what it takes to be a charismatic coach," added Juanma Lillo with a faint smile.

"What's a charismatic coach?" Parales asked curiously.

Assistant coach Mendiodoro leaned in as well, equally curious.

"A leader with extraordinary personal charm," Lillo explained.

Both nodded in understanding.

Thinking back to Yang Hao's speech, they couldn't help but agree. It was stirring, packed with conviction and magnetic energy.

Looking at the players' reactions—a roomful of motivated, fiery-eyed athletes—it was evident they had been profoundly moved.

At that moment, Juanma Lillo couldn't help but reflect on himself.

Starting his coaching career at 16 and having managed in both La Liga and the Segunda División, he knew his strengths and weaknesses well.

From a technical standpoint, Lillo believed he had no equal. But standing in front of a team, delivering a speech like the one Yang Hao just gave? That was beyond him.

He never thought much of it before. But now?

Hearing Yang Hao's words and seeing their effects on the team, Lillo realized something.

This is what a true head coach should be capable of doing.

A head coach wasn't just a tactician. They had to inspire their players and rally them in the face of impossible odds.

It was a revelation.

But as the truth of it sank in, so did a troubling thought.

Before, Lillo had doubted if he could succeed as a head coach.

Now, after watching Yang Hao, he began to wonder if he was even suited to the role at all.

Still, he pushed these doubts aside for now. There was no time for personal insecurities.

Yang Hao was delivering on his promises, and that meant Lillo had to step up and do the same.

"Our survival depends on everyone doing their job," Lillo thought to himself as he turned back to his preparation.

Yang Hao was fighting for Atlético.

Now, so was Lillo.

On the evening of April 15th, at Madrid's Vicente Calderón Stadium, the stage was set for La Liga's 33rd round: Atlético Madrid versus Málaga.

Miguel Gil nervously accompanied his father, Jesus Gil, along with Enrique Cerezo, Paulo Futre, and board member Clemente Villaverde in the VIP stands.

The younger Gil made no effort to hide the anxiety and unease in his heart.

While the Copa del Rey semifinal win against Barcelona was significant, it was merely an appetizer. The real test for Yang Hao and Atlético Madrid lay in tonight's crucial fixture.

To secure survival, Atlético needed 12 points from the remaining six matches—a colossal challenge for any team, even league leaders Deportivo La Coruña.

A 4-1 home win against Barcelona had impressed many, but skeptics dismissed it as Barcelona underperforming or Atlético benefiting from a new coach's temporary boost. Regardless, the Copa del Rey wasn't the priority. For survival, Atlético needed to perform in the league.

Jesus Gil turned to glance at his son, reading the apprehension on his face, and snorted lightly.

What he despised most about his son was this indecisive, hesitant nature.

Once a decision was made, it should be pursued boldly. What was there to fear?

Paulo Futre, sensing the tension between the two, chuckled and commented, "Joaquín Peiró isn't planning to show any mercy to his old club tonight."

Back in his playing days at Atlético Madrid, Peiró had briefly served as head coach, making him a familiar face.

During Atlético's recent coaching changes, his name had come up several times, but the club legend had politely declined, choosing not to get involved in the club's chaos.

And now, Peiró was poised to deal Atlético a heavy blow.

"Málaga's current playing style is incredibly resilient. This match won't be easy," Clemente Villaverde said with a frown.

While it's true that La Liga is celebrated for attacking football, in recent years—especially following Héctor Cúper's success with Mallorca—defensive strategies had gained prominence among mid-to-lower table teams.

Clubs like Alavés, Athletic Bilbao, Celta Vigo, Málaga, Rayo Vallecano, and Espanyol were known for their rugged, even aggressive styles, which had little in common with the league's traditional attacking flair.

Interestingly, these defensively robust teams had also achieved respectable league standings in recent seasons.

"Sevilla hosts Valencia in this round. The Bats will be aiming for a Champions League spot and should go all out for the win. Real Betis, meanwhile, faces Espanyol away, which doesn't look promising since Espanyol is chasing a European berth," Futre analyzed.

"Real Oviedo is up against Barcelona at home. After two consecutive defeats, Van Gaal has his back against the wall. Even if Oviedo fights tooth and nail for survival, Barcelona should come out on top."

With a grin, he concluded, "If we beat Málaga tonight, we'll still be 19th, but we'll significantly close the gap with Betis and Oviedo."

This season's La Liga was chaotic. The leading teams underperformed—league leaders Deportivo La Coruña had just 61 points so far, the lowest tally for the stage in years.

Conversely, the bottom teams were unusually competitive, leading to a tightly packed table. The competition was fierce, with no room for error.

For example, between 7th-placed Celta Vigo and 16th-placed Racing Santander, there was only a six-point difference.

Ten teams within six points—this was the epitome of a brutal race.

Santander sat on 38 points, followed by Real Betis with 36, Real Oviedo with 34, and Atlético Madrid with 32.

The fight for survival was unlike anything seen in years, both in La Liga and across European football. The stakes were high, and mistakes were costly.

But it also meant that Atlético had an opportunity. Climbing out of the relegation zone was possible, but it wouldn't be easy.

Every match was a battle for survival.

As the two teams emerged from the tunnel, led by referee Alfonso Pérez Burrull, the stadium announcer called out the starting lineups.

Atlético Madrid's familiar 4-2-3-1 formation:

Goalkeeper: Molina

Defense: Capdevila, Santi Denia, Gamarra, Gaspar

Midfield: Pablo García, Baraja as the double pivots; Solari, Valerón, and Aguilera in advanced roles

Forward: Hasselbaink

The lineup mirrored that of the Copa del Rey semifinal, as expected.

After finally settling on a stable system, why make unnecessary changes?

Málaga's 4-4-2 setup remained consistent as well:

Goalkeeper: Contreras

Defense: Vicente Valcarce, Roteta, Sanz, Roberto Rojas

Midfield: Movilla, De los Santos, Ruano, Rufete

Forwards: Darío Silva, Catanha

When Málaga's center-back Fernando Sanz stepped out of the tunnel, he was greeted by thunderous boos from the 50,000 Atlético fans in attendance.

The animosity wasn't just because of his Real Madrid past but also his pre-match comments.

As the son of Real Madrid president Lorenzo Sanz, Fernando had declared:

"We'll do everything to beat Atlético and push them further into the relegation zone."

"This isn't just for Málaga; it's for my father and Real Madrid!"

Clearly, he aimed to boost his father's profile ahead of the summer presidential election.

Atlético fans weren't having it, drowning him in a sea of jeers.

Incidentally, Real Madrid defender Michel Salgado was also Lorenzo Sanz's son-in-law.

Amidst the thunderous boos directed at the Málaga players, Yang Hao emerged from the players' tunnel.

For a moment, he thought the jeers were aimed at him, expressing dissatisfaction.

Luckily, the jeers abruptly stopped when he appeared, and even a smattering of applause followed. It was a testament to the goodwill earned by the 4-1 victory against Barcelona.

Yang Hao strode onto the pitch and headed straight toward the visitors' bench.

This time, he didn't need Mendiondo's reminder. He walked over to shake hands with Joaquín Peiró.

As for the assistant coach?

Well, last time Barcelona's assistant coach was José Mourinho; this time…

This one looked a bit like Hierro.

Whatever, just shake hands!

After shaking hands with both Peiró and Hierro, Joaquín Peiró made a point to exchange a few pleasantries. His compliments were brief but meaningful:

"Atlético showcased a lot of new elements in their last match."

"Thank you," Yang Hao replied with a smile. "I hope we can carry that form into tonight."

Joaquín Peiró was momentarily taken aback but then smiled. "That won't be easy."

Unwilling to engage in idle chatter, Yang Hao bade him farewell and turned back toward his own bench.

Joaquín Peiró, however, took note of Juanma Lillo standing near Atlético's technical area. It was a surprising sight.

"When did he become Atlético's assistant coach?" Joaquín Peiró frowned.

Lillo had a reputation for being a tough operator. The teams he previously coached were notoriously challenging to play against.

"No idea. It must've been a recent appointment," Manolo Hierro said, equally surprised.

Joaquín Peiró pondered for a moment, then moved to the touchline to issue instructions to his players, cautioning them to remain vigilant at the start of the match.

Lillo's hallmark was the 4-2-3-1 formation, coupled with aggressive pressing and a high defensive line—caution was necessary.

"They're sticking with their 4-4-2. As expected, their lineup and positioning haven't changed," Juanma Lillo remarked as Yang Hao returned to the home dugout.

Having studied Málaga's setup beforehand, the coaching team was unsurprised to see the classic flat 4-4-2 formation on the pitch.

In football, no formation is inherently superior—it's all about what fits a team best. Málaga had no star players; even Catanha was largely unknown before this season. Yet their league position spoke volumes about their tactical cohesion and discipline.

For a club like Málaga, assembling a competent squad was already a monumental task. Once they found a system that worked, they were unlikely to make changes unless forced by injuries.

Atlético's situation was similar.

"Stick to the plan. Go for an early goal—secure the first blood!"

Lillo and Mendiondo had grown accustomed to Yang Hao's gaming-inspired terminology. Why call it the first goal when he insisted on referring to it as "first blood"?

It was hard not to think of… other contexts.

Still not fully reassured, Yang Hao quickly walked to the touchline and gestured toward Baraja.

"You and Pablo need to stay laser-focused—120,000% concentration. Got it?"

Baraja, well aware of the importance of this match and the demands of their opening strategy, nodded firmly.

"And remind Santi and Carlos—when defending Catanha and Darío Silva during counters, stop them early. If you can't contain them, foul early. Don't let them threaten the goal."

Baraja nodded repeatedly. As he turned to head back, Yang Hao stopped him again.

"Oh, and one more thing—control your tackles. Avoid unnecessary cards."

"Understood."

Baraja returned to the field and relayed the coach's instructions to the team. Yang Hao also gestured to Valerón and Hasselbaink, signaling them to play without hesitation.

As referee Burrull blew the whistle to start the match, spectators were immediately stunned by what they saw.

When Málaga forward Catanha passed the ball to Darío Silva, Atlético's midfield and forward lines surged forward with blistering intensity.

From Hasselbaink to Valerón, Solari, and Aguilera, even Baraja, Pablo García, and the backline pressed aggressively, advancing in unison with unwavering determination.

Málaga seemed somewhat prepared and moved the ball quickly, retreating deeper into their half.

Yet they underestimated Atlético's resolve.

Hasselbaink chased the ball all the way to the goalkeeper, forcing Contreras to hastily launch a clearance upfield.

Pablo García won the aerial duel, heading the ball down to Baraja.

With possession secured, Atlético's full squad surged forward for an all-out attack.

Although Juanma Lillo had only been with Atlético for three days, conducting two training sessions and holding two tactical meetings, he had already clearly articulated his football philosophy and approach.

Each time, Yang Hao was present, lending his full support to Lillo. This sent a strong message to the players about the tactics their head coach intended to adopt.

In the past two training sessions, Lillo emphasized positional play during full-field drills. His focus could be summarized in one word: positioning.

"On the pitch, your position is not something you decide. It's dictated by the ball, your opponents, and your teammates," Lillo explained.

"We cannot stand still, waiting for a pass. You must move, get into position to support your teammates, and always maintain the right distance. Escape your opponent's defensive zone and stay on a passing lane that's easy for your teammate to use."

"Positioning is dynamic; it changes constantly based on the ball's movement, your teammates, and the actions of your opponents. But what remains constant is the goal: to create a free player in a localized area who can receive the ball without pressure."

"To achieve this, you must be constantly observing, thinking, and making decisions on the fly. You need to maintain 300% concentration at all times."

Yang Hao attended both tactical meetings and training sessions from start to finish. He had to admit, Lillo's tactical vision and training methods were remarkable.

Every drill was purpose-built, designed to help players understand his tactical concepts and improve their coordination with teammates. Moreover, Lillo tailored the drills to suit individual players' characteristics and physical conditions.

It was no wonder that in Yang Hao's previous life, Guardiola sought Lillo out for guidance before retiring.

When a team can consistently create numerical superiority in localized areas, it becomes an almost unstoppable force.

Of course, Lillo's tactics were limited by the players' physical fitness, which in turn depended on scientifically advanced training methods. These were not yet fully available at Atlético, especially given the current state of the team.

But Yang Hao was determined to start the match with a bang.

The opening minutes of the match validated his decision. Atlético's relentless high-press and fast-paced attacks left Málaga scrambling, forcing them to retreat into a defensive posture.

Defenders and midfielders of this era were far less adept at handling and distributing the ball compared to a decade later. Once Atlético pushed high up the pitch, the numerical advantage of their 4-2-3-1 formation became evident. This, combined with their coordinated movement, magnified their superiority.

Yang Hao stood calmly on the sideline, watching intently.

Goals cannot be precisely calculated; they come when they come.

Joaquín Peiró quickly sensed the danger.

He knew of Lillo's reputation for disruptive high-press tactics—it was well known throughout Spain.

But what truly surprised Peiró was that Atlético's star-studded squad was willing to execute these tactics so diligently.

Even the temperamental Hasselbaink chased down Sanz and Roteta aggressively, making it difficult for Málaga's central defenders to hold onto the ball.

Could Lillo have orchestrated this?

Peiró turned toward the Atlético bench, instinctively believing that Yang Hao was the driving force behind this transformation.

If Lillo had this level of influence, he wouldn't have ended up struggling in his career.

Atlético's players were fully committed to the pressing system, but their execution was still rough around the edges. Coordination was lacking, and the resulting pressure was not as suffocating as it could have been. Málaga still had moments to catch their breath.

Yet one player stood out—a cunning presence.

Valerón.

The maestro was exceptionally intelligent. Although his range of movement was limited, he always positioned himself where Málaga's defenders couldn't reach him.

Málaga's 4-4-2 formation left their central midfielders outnumbered and vulnerable.

Within just five minutes, Valerón had twice received the ball unmarked in Málaga's half, initiating attacks that left Peiró visibly concerned.

"If we let him keep orchestrating like this, our defense is going to break," Manolo Hierro warned.

Peiró nodded grimly and walked to the touchline to issue instructions to De Los Santos, urging him to stay vigilant and protect the space in front of the penalty area.

"Valerón keeps dropping into open spaces to receive the ball and initiate attacks through short passes. If we can't stop him from getting the ball, we must stop his passes."

The match's tempo was frenetic.

Barely seven minutes had passed, yet it felt like much longer.

Valerón once again drifted into an open area in Málaga's half, near the left side of the center circle, to receive a pass from Baraja.

Baraja had advanced the ball from deep and found his path blocked by Ruano, forcing him to quickly lay it off to Valerón.

Unmarked and in complete control, Valerón elegantly stopped the ball, turned, and began driving forward.

The nearest defender, Rufete, sprinted toward him. Rufete, known for his aggression and intelligent positioning, aimed to cut off the passing lane between Valerón and Solari.

Valerón took two steps to the left as Rufete closed in, then shielded the ball expertly before executing a graceful pirouette to evade him. He managed to break free just before Ruano could close in, surging forward with a powerful stride.

The entire sequence was executed with such elegance and fluidity, it resembled a flowing piece of art, imbued with a classical beauty that left the entire Calderón Stadium in awe.

Yang Hao, watching from the sideline, clapped loudly in appreciation.

After FC Barcelona's rise to fame, many believed the "pirouette" turn was Xavi's signature move. But that wasn't entirely true. Valerón's execution of the same move just now carried an aesthetic grace that even Xavi might envy.

With Ruano and Rufete trailing closely behind, Valerón surged forward with the ball toward the center of Málaga's penalty area. De Los Santos was the last defender standing in his way. Just before entering De Los Santos's zone, Valerón veered diagonally to the right with the ball.

At the same time, Hasselbaink, positioned between De Los Santos and Málaga's two central defenders, suddenly raised his hand to call for the ball, shouting as he made a sharp run across the top of the box, cutting to the left.

The moment was electric as Valerón and Hasselbaink's crisscrossing runs disoriented Málaga's defense.

De Los Santos and the center-backs instinctively shifted toward Hasselbaink, expecting Valerón to pass. But instead, the Spanish playmaker feigned the pass with a quick motion, keeping the ball as he took another stride to the right, darting past the collapsing defense.

This unexpected move created a gaping hole in Málaga's defensive line.

As the goalkeeper realized he was exposed, he made a bold decision to rush off his line to narrow Valerón's shooting angle.

Valerón, however, was faster. Just as he entered the box, he unleashed a low-driven shot with his right foot. The ball flew like a bullet, hugging the grass tightly as it sped toward the bottom left corner of the net.

In an instant, the entire Calderón erupted in thunderous cheers.

"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"

"8 minutes into the match! Just 8 minutes in, Atlético's relentless pressing pays off!"

"Valerón!"

"With a brilliant low strike, he puts Atlético in the lead!"

"1–0!"

"What an incredible play—this was not just a well-orchestrated attack but also a showcase of Valerón's individual brilliance."

"Despite not being the fastest player, he uses his rhythm, masterful ball control, and deceptive moves to outwit opponents, creating space and opportunities for himself and his teammates."

As the crowd roared, Yang Hao leaped into the air on the sideline, his face glowing with excitement.

"Well done, Juan!" he shouted, unable to contain his joy.

This was a crucial goal.

Atlético's high-pressure approach in the first eight minutes had yielded several attacking opportunities, though they had only managed two shots prior to this. Valerón's strike was their third attempt—and it found the back of the net.

The goal brought a sense of relief to everyone associated with Atlético.

After scoring, Valerón ran straight to the touchline, waving to the ecstatic fans in the stands before celebrating with his teammates who had rushed to join him.

The entire stadium reverberated with chants of Valerón's name.

Meanwhile, Yang Hao found himself surrounded by his assistants—Juanma Lillo, Mendiondo, and Pedro Jaro—all of them celebrating wildly.

It was a pivotal goal, one that could define the match.

Valerón continued to revel in the moment, sharing the joy with his teammates and engaging with the fans. He had felt the growing warmth and support from Atlético's faithful in recent weeks, and now, he was basking in it.

On his way back to the pitch, he made a quick detour to the sideline.

Yang Hao, still in the midst of celebrating with his staff, noticed Valerón approaching and greeted him with a broad smile.

"Well done, Juan. Keep it up!"

"Thanks, Boss!" Valerón responded, exchanging a high-five with his coach before sharing a quick hug and returning to the field.

"Look at that—Valerón made it a point to run to the sideline and celebrate with his head coach," the commentator noted.

"This shows the Spanish playmaker's respect and recognition for his young coach. It's clear that Yang Hao has earned the trust and acceptance of Atlético's dressing room."

"It's truly remarkable. Yang Hao is the youngest head coach in La Liga's history, breaking a record previously held by none other than his current assistant, Juanma Lillo."

"Atlético's start tonight couldn't have been better. A strong opening spell of pressing and attacking has delivered a crucial early lead."

"But there's still a long way to go. Let's see how Málaga responds and how Atlético plans to maintain their advantage."

"Do you know why this is Yang Hao's team and not Juanma Lillo's team?"

Sitting in the away dugout at the Calderón Stadium, Joaquín Peiró asked this question with a helpless expression as he turned to Manolo Hierro beside him.

Hierro glanced at his head coach and shook his head.

"If this were Juanma Lillo's team, he wouldn't have pulled back so decisively after taking the lead just eight minutes into the match."

Manolo Hierro's face took on a thoughtful expression.

"Lillo treats this style of play like a belief system. His teams stick to this high-intensity approach until their stamina is completely spent. They don't back down. Sure, they blow teams away sometimes, but just as often, they get blown apart themselves."

Peiró chuckled at the memory. "In the beginning, no one knew how to deal with his style, and it left opponents scrambling. But over time, teams figured him out. They'd just hang in there until his players ran out of steam, then strike back with everything they had."

"During that period, Lillo's teams took quite a beating. Once people understood his tricks, they made sure to exploit them," Peiró added.

Manolo Hierro nodded in realization. He had never faced a Lillo-coached team himself, but he now understood the reputation.

"Yang Hao, on the other hand, is different. The kid's a pragmatist—very much like the Italian school of coaching. He starts with aggressive pressing, executing that high line beautifully, but the moment his team scores, he pulls back immediately."

"Too cautious?" Hierro speculated.

On the pitch, both Málaga's players and Peiró were struggling to adapt to Yang Hao's tactics.

"It's not really cautious," Peiró admitted.

Hierro's questioning gaze urged him to explain further.

"Their players lack the stamina and mobility for sustained high pressing. They just can't keep it up for long."

Atlético's front line was hardly built for endurance—Solari was an exception, but the rest had their limitations. If they spent all their energy on pressing in the early stages, they'd have no fuel left to defend later.

"So, Yang Hao's decision isn't cautious—it's realistic."

"What should we do now?" Manolo Hierro asked, concern evident in his tone.

After all, Málaga was still trailing by a goal.

Peiró hesitated, a wry smile creeping onto his face. He had no answer.

"If I knew what to do, I wouldn't be sitting here venting my frustration, would I?" he muttered to himself.

Damn it! Scoring and then immediately retreating—Yang Hao, do you have no shame?

At least try to maintain the appearance of control, for heaven's sake. Couldn't you at least act like a proper La Liga manager?

Peiró cast a glance at the home dugout. Yang Hao stood there, seemingly grinning smugly at him. In Peiró's imagination, the young coach was taunting him, waving him over with a beckoning finger and shouting, "Come and get me!"

"Good thing they don't have a target man."

Yang Hao stood near the home dugout, laughing as he spoke to his assistants.

Neither Catanha nor Darío Silva had the physical presence of a classic target man, which made Atlético's defensive tasks somewhat simpler.

Whoever thought it was a good idea to field a backline of players barely taller than 1.8 meters in an era dominated by towering strikers?

Barcelona?

Sure, but Barça's focus was possession football. Were they trying to copy that?

Even then, Barcelona had defenders like Bogarde and Frederic Dehu, who could provide aerial coverage. They just didn't play as often.

Atlético, though?

Yang Hao suspected that former coach Radomir Antić didn't truly believe the defense was fine—he had probably just given up on trying to fix it.

If Yang Hao could stay on next season, he planned to oversee a major overhaul of the squad. He wanted to rebuild Atlético in line with his own tactical vision and make them a dominant force in European football.

Mourinho, Ancelotti, Guardiola, Zidane… In the future, European football wouldn't have room for them. Let them retire early to babysit their kids!

"We still need to watch out for Catanha," Mendiondo warned.

Though not tall, Catanha was stocky and strong, with excellent individual skills. If he got the ball in the box, he could create chances or even score.

Yang Hao shook off his fantasies of future dominance and refocused on the present. He nodded in agreement with Mendiondo's observation.

Walking to the touchline, he gestured to Pablo García, instructing him to drop slightly deeper and stay closer to the center-backs.

This adjustment made Atlético's defensive formation even tighter, though it also made them appear more conservative.

"Joaquín Peiró has reacted quickly. Have you noticed? They're trying to cut off our connections to the half-spaces, especially Valerón's link-up play there," Juanma Lillo analyzed.

Yang Hao had noticed.

Málaga's midfield and defense had been quick to block off the half-space passes that Valerón used to link up with Hasselbaink in their first goal.

If Valerón had attempted a similar pass now, it would likely have been intercepted.

That's where star players make the difference. When Valerón realized the pass wasn't on, he capitalized on the defensive mindset and exploited the gap, scoring himself.

These were nuances no tactical system could plan for. They relied on individual brilliance—something that could decide the outcome of matches.

Yang Hao thought of a quote: "Don't let your amateur hobby challenge someone else's livelihood."

Now, he understood that sentiment all too well.

Joaquín Peiró already knew from the Barça game that Valerón needed to be contained and the half-spaces required attention. That was the basis of his tactical adjustments.

"Let's wait a bit longer."

Yang Hao wasn't just saying this; he meant it.

From the sidelines, he repeatedly reminded his players, especially Valerón, to stay patient and focused.

Don't rush. Don't lose composure. Protect the lead first, stabilize the defense, and wear down the opponent gradually.

"I believe Málaga won't be content going into halftime trailing."

Trailing by one goal versus entering halftime on even terms was a completely different situation. If Málaga could equalize before the break, it would provide a massive morale boost going into the second half. Joaquín Peiró would undoubtedly try to push forward.

Time proved Yang Hao's instincts right.

By the 30th minute, Málaga, unable to hold back any longer, began to push for more aggressive attacks. This urgency emanated from both the players on the pitch and Joaquín Peiró on the sideline.

For teams operating in a 4-4-2 formation, offense often relied heavily on the flanks.

But with Valerón commanding the center of the pitch, Málaga's midfielders hesitated to leave their positions, fearing the consequences of letting him dictate the game.

Atlético had anticipated this.

The moment Málaga's attack ventured into their half, the home side's pressing intensified. Any attempt to advance the ball down the flanks faced immediate resistance, as the limited space narrowed passing lanes.

As a result, Málaga's attacks struggled to produce any real threats.

Then, in the 36th minute, during one such flank play, Rufete attempted a pass to Catanha. Santi Denia executed a decisive slide tackle, intercepting the ball cleanly.

Baraja picked up possession, quickly carried it across the halfway line, and found Valerón, who had moved into open space.

With no one marking him, Valerón drove toward Málaga's penalty area.

The situation was eerily reminiscent of the opening goal. Hasselbaink made a run, Valerón shaped to pass, but this time, Málaga's defenders hesitated. Valerón took advantage and released the pass.

Málaga's defenders were on the verge of despair.

Near the edge of the box, Hasselbaink controlled the ball and unleashed a left-footed shot.

The strike deflected off center-back Roteta's leg, sending the ball toward the left side of the penalty area.

Just as everyone assumed the attack was over, Solari appeared out of nowhere in the danger zone. With composure, he controlled the ball, adjusted his position, assessed the situation, and took a shot.

The ball rolled past goalkeeper Contreras, nestling into the far corner of the net.

"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"

"2-0!"

"Atlético's lightning-quick counterattack strikes again, breaking down Málaga's defense!"

"This time, the goal came from the Argentine winger, Solari, marking his fifth goal of the La Liga season."

"2-0! This is a highly favorable position for Atlético!"

"Well done, Yang!"

Miguel Gil leapt out of his seat the moment Solari scored, shouting his excitement toward the pitch.

The Atlético fans erupted similarly, with the stands at the Calderón roaring in delight.

Even Jesús Gil, seated in the director's box, couldn't hide his excitement.

Was this it? Was this finally a victory?

When was the last time Atlético won a league match? Three months ago?

Over the past three months, Atlético had managed a few draws but had failed to secure a single win. Even bottom-of-the-table Sevilla, for all their woes, had a 4-0 home win against Numancia in Round 29 and a victory over Racing Santander in Round 23.

By comparison, Atlético's performance during this period had been the worst in La Liga.

The idea of victory now felt almost surreal, even unsettling.

"Under Yang Hao, the team has shown noticeable improvements in just two games," Paulo Futre remarked fairly.

The changes weren't just tactical; they were mental. The players had regained their fighting spirit and confidence.

"I watched his speech during the team meeting the other day. Honestly, if I were a player, I'd be inspired too. Look at them today—Valerón, Hasselbaink, Solari…"

"The roster hasn't changed, but their performances are worlds apart. It's almost like a complete transformation."

Football, at its core, is a players' game.

Whether under Ranieri or Antić, Atlético had appeared lifeless, devoid of hope.

Yang Hao, on the other hand, had injected energy into the team—a youthful vibrancy and sense of optimism that reflected his own age.

This was the mindset a team battling relegation needed.

Even Jesús Gil, despite his usual skepticism, found himself swayed by the positive remarks from Futre, Enrique Cerezo, and Clemente Villaverde.

He glanced at his son, Miguel, who was glowing with pride. Though Jesús Gil wanted to offer some words of affirmation, he held back.

Better not let the kid get too cocky.

"Yes!"

The moment referee Pérez Burrull blew the final whistle, Yang Hao couldn't contain himself. He rushed onto the pitch, fists raised high above his head, shouting and releasing all the pent-up emotion inside him.

A 2-0 victory. Atlético Madrid triumphed over Málaga at home, thanks to goals from Valerón and Solari.

The Vicente Calderón Stadium erupted into a sea of celebration.

Even the stadium announcer couldn't stop cheering, showering praise on the Atlético players for their outstanding performance.

This was Atlético's first La Liga victory in three months.

Three whole months.

No one could truly comprehend the torment that Atlético's players and fans had endured during this time.

The club's leadership was in disarray. Jesús Gil had been imprisoned. Debt loomed over the organization, and the government had taken control of the club's management. To many, it seemed as if the ship of Atlético Madrid was sinking into the abyss of relegation.

Amid this chaos, there was no hero to step up and turn the tide. All anyone could do was watch helplessly as Atlético spiraled deeper into despair.

From Ranieri to Antić, it was the same cycle of hope followed by crushing disappointment.

And just when it seemed all hope was lost, Yang Hao appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and entered their lives.

A 4-1 victory against Barcelona, now followed by this 2-0 triumph over Málaga. Two wins in a row had blown away the dark clouds hanging over Atlético.

At that moment, everyone began to believe that Atlético still had a fighting chance.

If they could play as they had tonight, if they could sustain the momentum from these two games, survival was possible.

Hope, once lost and regained, becomes all the more precious.

This was evident at the Calderón Stadium, where countless Atlético fans screamed and shouted, voices hoarse with joy.

They weren't just cheering for the players; they were also chanting for the young coach at the heart of the celebrations.

After three agonizing months, Atlético finally had three points.

Yang Hao finally understood why players lose themselves in celebrations after scoring a goal.

The feeling was indescribable.

It was the culmination of intense effort, emotional investment, and relentless hard work. When the result you've been striving for finally materializes, it feels like flying.

Even during the Barça game, he hadn't felt this euphoric.

That match was in the Copa del Rey—a prestigious competition but ultimately a side dish.

His main battlefield was the league; his ultimate mission was avoiding relegation.

Tonight, his emotions reached their peak.

As the final whistle sounded, a wave of exhilaration swept through him, igniting every cell in his body. Words couldn't do justice to the sensation, but it was unforgettable.

After regaining some composure, Yang Hao laughed heartily and approached his players.

"Well done, Santiago!" he exclaimed, hugging Solari.

The Argentine's goal had been crucial to Atlético's victory.

Then he turned to Valerón for another embrace.

Although the Spanish playmaker faced greater defensive pressure than against Barcelona, he remained Atlético's most influential player on the pitch.

Baraja and Pablo García had moments of inconsistency as the double pivot midfielders—a result of their back-to-back fixtures. After a grueling clash with Barcelona midweek, followed by this demanding encounter with Málaga, fatigue had taken its toll.

In the second half, Málaga broke through Atlético's defensive lines twice, creating dangerous chances in the box. Thankfully, Santi Denia and goalkeeper Molina stepped up to defuse the threats.

Overall, the double pivot performed admirably.

Compared to their performance against Barcelona, Atlético didn't shine as brightly tonight. Players like Capdevila on the left and Aguilera on the right weren't as impactful. But with Solari and Valerón stepping up, the team secured the victory.

And that was enough.

With a week to rest and recover, Atlético could now focus on regaining their rhythm and composure.

However, Yang Hao couldn't help but notice a sulking Hasselbaink.

The Dutch striker hadn't scored tonight.

Hasselbaink had actually shown more energy tonight than in the Barcelona match, covering more ground, pressing more aggressively, and even picking up a yellow card for his efforts.

But he missed a penalty.

The penalty came from a play involving Valerón and Aguilera, resulting in Aguilera being fouled in the box. It was Aguilera's only standout moment of the match.

Hasselbaink took the penalty himself but failed to convert. That was why he looked so downcast.

"Don't worry. You're still the league's top scorer," Yang Hao said as he approached and patted Hasselbaink on the shoulder, his tone light and encouraging.

The Dutchman looked up at his coach, seeking reassurance.

"Really?" his eyes seemed to ask.

"Salva scored one tonight, so you're tied at 23 goals. But Roy Makaay didn't score."

Hasselbaink's expression brightened, a smile spreading across his face.

Indeed, happiness is often built on the misfortunes of others.

As the league leaders, Deportivo La Coruña missed a golden opportunity to extend their lead, suffering a surprising 0-2 defeat away to Rayo Vallecano.

Even more shocking was Van Gaal's Barcelona losing 0-3 on the road to Real Oviedo.

Meanwhile, Real Betis fell 0-3 to Espanyol.

This turned La Liga into a chaotic free-for-all.

For both Deportivo and Barcelona—two title-contending teams—to stumble simultaneously was hard to believe.

Especially Barcelona, who faced a team fighting relegation.

A 4-1 defeat in the Copa del Rey semifinal against Atlético Madrid followed by a league loss to Real Oviedo? Van Gaal had truly pushed himself into a corner, and the Barcelona dressing room was likely in complete disarray.

Under such circumstances, any hope of catching Deportivo seemed slim.

As for Deportivo, their issues also persisted, particularly the inconsistency of Djalminha. Without him, their 4-2-3-1 system struggled to function effectively.

In this round, for instance, Djalminha only came on as a substitute in the 60th minute, but it was too late to make an impact.

Rumors were swirling that Irureta had already reached an agreement with Valerón.

Yang Hao wasn't sure whether the rumors were true, but it was clear that Deportivo had some vulnerabilities.

The most chaotic La Liga season ever? That wasn't just hyperbole.

As for Sevilla, they suffered a 1-2 home defeat to Valencia, with Mendieta contributing a goal and an assist.

Mendieta was truly a pity.

Yang Hao had considered—before his conversation with Florentino Pérez—that if Real Madrid had hired him as coach, he would have signed Mendieta in a heartbeat. Saving this unlucky star would have been a top priority.

But as Atlético's coach now, he could only let go of that thought.

"I'll tell you, Jimmy, even though you didn't score in this game, your tactical impact was enough to change everyone's opinion of you. You played a critical role in both of our goals."

"And think about our pressing in the final third. Without you leading the charge repeatedly, could our defense have held up so well?"

Walking side by side with Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, Yang Hao patted the Dutchman on the shoulder.

"And take a look at Deportivo. How many people are helping Makaay? In the 60th minute of the second half, Irureta even brought on Pauleta—he was desperate, putting on four forwards. And what happened? Still no goals, and they even lost the match."

Hearing Yang Hao's analysis, Hasselbaink's mood visibly improved, and a broad smile spread across his face.

True enough.

Luck hadn't been on his side tonight, and his touch wasn't at its sharpest, but his contributions had been significant.

As for missing a penalty, well, mistakes happen. As the coach had said, it was just a blemish on an otherwise great performance.

"Keep pushing, Jimmy. Our next game is an away match against Valencia. That will be a decisive game for our survival. We'll need your best," Yang Hao encouraged him further.

"Don't worry, Boss. I understand. I won't let difficulties bring me down," Hasselbaink responded confidently.

Only then did Yang Hao allow him to head down the players' tunnel.

The truth was that Hasselbaink was quite an emotional player, and his fundamentals weren't always consistent.

That penalty? He blasted it over the bar.

He had been genuinely rattled.

But what choice did Yang Hao have?

Hasselbaink was the only dependable forward Atlético had. Yang Hao had no option but to reassure and support him as much as possible.

After the Málaga match, Atlético had a week to prepare for Valencia.

And who was Valencia's coach?

Héctor Cúper.

Yes, the same Cúper who had taken Valencia to back-to-back Champions League finals and later clashed with Ronaldo during his tenure at Inter Milan.

Right now, Cúper was undoubtedly one of the world's top managers—hot property on the coaching market.

He was like Klopp during his time at Borussia Dortmund.

Valencia was no pushover, either. They had just demolished Lazio 5-2 at home in the first leg of the Champions League quarterfinals.

For those unfamiliar with Lazio's squad in 2023, a quick glance at their roster tells the story.

Their coach was Sven-Göran Eriksson—the same Eriksson infamous for his off-field scandals.

On the pitch, Lazio had names like Nedvěd, Verón, Nesta, Mihajlović, Couto, Pancaro, Almeyda, Simeone, Stanković, Conceição, Salas, Simone Inzaghi, and even future Inter Milan coach Roberto Mancini.

This was Serie A's golden era, known as the "Little World Cup," with star-studded teams everywhere.

Lazio's ability to win the Scudetto in such a competitive environment spoke volumes about their strength.

Yet this Lazio team was routed 2-5 by Valencia.

The upcoming trip to Mestalla to face Valencia would be a critical challenge for Atlético Madrid.

Just thinking about going head-to-head with a world-class coach like Cúper made Yang Hao feel both a headache and an inexplicable excitement.

As a football fan, nothing thrilled him more than testing himself against the likes of Van Gaal and Cúper.

Following Atlético Madrid's match against Deportivo La Coruña, all fixtures in La Liga's 33rd round were completed.

This round saw several shocking results, leaving the league in even greater disarray.

Real Madrid managed a narrow 1-0 victory against Zaragoza, thanks to a Raúl penalty, bringing them level on points with Barcelona at 56.

According to league rules, tied teams are ranked by head-to-head results. Real Madrid had drawn 2-2 away and won 3-0 at home against Barcelona, allowing them to leapfrog Barça into second place.

However, they remain five points behind Deportivo.

Irureta's Deportivo, despite being solely focused on the league, failed to capitalize on their lead. Following a full week of rest, they couldn't secure an away win against Rayo Vallecano, missing a golden chance to extend their advantage.

Deportivo's performances have lacked conviction to some extent.

In contrast, Real Madrid, under Del Bosque's conservative yet effective leadership, have been steady, with high point-scoring efficiency despite criticism from fans about their unadventurous playing style.

Their victory against Zaragoza, currently fourth in the league and just a point behind Barcelona and Real Madrid, showcased their resilience.

Another stunning upset saw Luis Aragonés's Real Oviedo deliver a 3-0 thrashing to Barcelona at home. The shocking result left the football world in disbelief.

This win allowed Real Oviedo to climb out of the relegation zone, overtaking Real Betis and rising to 17th place.

Below them, Guus Hiddink's Real Betis sits 18th with 36 points, just one behind Oviedo.

Atlético Madrid's hard-fought 2-0 win over Málaga brought their tally to 35 points, leaving them 19th, just one point behind Real Betis and two behind Real Oviedo. They trail 16th-placed Racing Santander by four points.

Sevilla's 1-2 home loss to Valencia left them rooted at the bottom with 27 points. Their relegation seems inevitable.

Currently, Real Betis, Real Oviedo, and Atlético Madrid are the primary candidates for relegation. But with the points gap so tight, Racing Santander, Numancia, Athletic Bilbao, Real Sociedad, and even Málaga remain at risk.

The battle to avoid relegation this season is one of the most intense in recent La Liga history.

Following the 33rd round, Spanish media focused heavily on the league standings.

Betting companies adjusted their odds, but Atlético Madrid remained the second-most likely team to be relegated, just behind Sevilla.

The reasoning lies in their brutal upcoming schedule.

After a week's rest, Atlético faces Valencia, followed by the second leg of the Copa del Rey semifinals midweek, and then a home game against Barcelona in La Liga's 35th round.

In short, the next week pits them against three elite teams.

This stretch will be a monumental test for Atlético, with every match carrying life-and-death stakes.

Even if they somehow survive Valencia and Barcelona, the 36th round brings a clash with direct relegation rival Real Oviedo.

At this point, it's a zero-sum game—one team must go down for the other to survive.

Worse, that crucial match is an away fixture for Atlético.

Marca described Atlético's fight to stay up as a "hell-level challenge."

The difficulty of their remaining schedule alone is enough to demoralize most managers.

Moreover, Atlético cannot afford to drop any points, not even in the Copa del Rey.

With almost no room for error, powerful opponents, and a punishing schedule, Atlético faces an unprecedented relegation battle.

To make matters worse, time is not on Yang Hao's side.

After just three days in charge, he had to lead the team against Barcelona, followed by Málaga, and now faces a gauntlet of daunting fixtures. The pressure is suffocating.

Marca acknowledged the positive changes Yang Hao has brought to the team in just two games. Atlético's tactics have evolved impressively, and the players' morale and spirit have undergone a dramatic transformation.

However, their schedule and opponents are merciless. Yang Hao's chances of keeping Atlético up remain slim.

Adding to the challenge is the caliber of opposing coaches: Van Gaal, Hiddink, Cúper, and Aragonés.

"Yang Hao has already demonstrated unique managerial ability and tactical intelligence, even in just two games," Marca wrote.

"But he must regret taking the Atlético job. He could have chosen a more forgiving environment. Here, he has no margin for error—that's the most despairing part of all."

Marca concluded that while the two consecutive wins were promising, Atlético's real test lies in their upcoming "hell week" and the match against Real Oviedo.

"To survive, Atlético must win all four of these matches to turn the relegation race in their favor," the paper wrote.

"But that will be extremely difficult."

Unlike Marca's measured tone, other Spanish media outlets were more pessimistic.

El País highlighted the dire situation and brutal schedule, predicting an inevitable relegation for Atlético.

"Yang Hao's current role is more about comforting Atlético fans during their relegation, softening the blow, and building his own résumé for future opportunities," the paper stated.

Meanwhile, AS was even more blunt, arguing that Atlético missed their window for redemption.

Both Madrid clubs faced crises this season and made mid-season managerial changes, but Real Madrid acted with more decisiveness, appointing Del Bosque before the winter break.

Since Del Bosque's arrival, Real Madrid's fortunes have turned around dramatically.

In contrast, Atlético stuck with Ranieri until the winter break and brought in Antic, who seemed powerless to reverse the team's decline, serving more as a placeholder than a solution.

Under such circumstances, Atlético Madrid's performance could only continue its downward spiral.

"Hasselbaink's agent is actively working on getting him back to the Premier League; Valerón has been in clandestine talks with Irureta's Deportivo for ages; Solari, Bejbl, Molina, Gaspar, and Venturín have all distanced themselves from the team long ago."

"Atlético is already in shambles—what do they have left to avoid relegation?"

AS bluntly declared that despite Yang Hao securing two consecutive wins and showing impressive coaching prowess, he wouldn't be able to alter Atlético's trajectory toward relegation.

"He's just the scapegoat Atlético put out to take the blame for their fall!"

The relegation situation remained dire, and the media's outlook on Atlético Madrid was no less grim.

Yang Hao had expected this and didn't anticipate the media saying anything positive about Atlético anyway.

This was partly tied to Jesus Gil's legacy.

With his tainted reputation and utterly ruined public image, how could anyone expect the media to speak kindly of Atlético?

But Yang Hao didn't mind. As long as the team's fortunes turned around and relegation began to look less likely, these same media outlets would happily backtrack on their words.

The more they mocked and sneered now, the more they'd have to eat their words later.

After completing La Liga's 33rd round, the team returned to Majadahonda and was dismissed for the night.

They'd have a recovery session the following morning, with the afternoon off.

In light of the team's victory, Yang Hao decided to grant the players a day off to refresh both mentally and physically.

The players had been under tremendous pressure recently, and with a string of grueling matches ahead, a brief break could only help.

With a full week before the next match, there was ample time to prepare.

That was true for the players—but not for the coaching staff.

Yang Hao himself had been staying at the training facility recently.

In fact, if it were possible, he'd consider terminating his apartment lease to save on commuting costs and rent.

Majadahonda had everything he needed—food, accommodations, and even expense reports.

Others viewed this as evidence of Yang Hao's commitment.

For Atlético's survival, he was giving his all.

Thus, on the night following the Málaga match, Yang Hao decided to stay and analyze footage of Valencia's game against Sevilla to prepare for their next opponent.

Huánma Lillo volunteered to stay as well.

No bed? No problem—he could sleep on the couch.

With both the head coach and assistant coach staying behind, Mendiadoro also opted to stay.

Space issues? Irrelevant—his home was nearby, and he had a car.

Soon, goalkeeping coach Pedro Jaro, physiotherapist Parales, and others joined in, choosing to stay.

In the end, Yang Hao moved from his office to the larger coaching office to accommodate everyone.

Many viewed Sevilla as an easy target, destined for relegation with their abysmal performance.

But those who watched their match against Valencia could see that Sevilla hadn't thrown in the towel—they were fighting hard.

Although far from the future Europa League kings, this Sevilla squad's fighting spirit left a lasting impression.

Valencia's victory in this match was narrow.

"Cúper's team definitely held back a bit for the midweek Champions League game," Yang Hao observed.

At this time, the Champions League still featured two group stages. The first had eight groups of four teams (32 total), with the top two from each advancing to a second round of 16 split into four groups. The top two from this stage proceeded to the knockout quarterfinals.

Valencia had thrashed Lazio 5-2 in the first leg but still had an away leg to play, leaving things uncertain.

After all, Lazio was incredibly strong.

While La Liga had been chaotic this season, Spanish teams were excelling in the Champions League.

Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Valencia had all reached the quarterfinals.

In Yang Hao's previous life, these three teams even met in the semifinals, showcasing the pinnacle of Spanish football.

A chaotic La Liga domestically and three teams in the Champions League semifinals—this highlighted the brutal competition within the league.

This season marked the beginning of Valencia's legendary rise.

At the turn of the century, many teams emerged as eye-catching forces.

Van Gaal's Ajax, Juventus reaching three consecutive Champions League finals, Real Madrid winning three Champions League titles in five years, and Hitzfeld's Dortmund and Bayern Munich—these were the giants of the era.

Among them, Valencia was the least conspicuous. Despite reaching the Champions League final twice, they faltered at the last step.

However, Cúper's Valencia deserved recognition for their tactical brilliance.

César Mendiadoro, a third-generation Atlético fan and a football insider, knew La Liga's history inside out. Huánma Lillo, with years of coaching experience in Spain, was equally well-versed in the league.

In their view, the journey from Ranieri to Cúper was part of a seamless evolution.

Valencia's last La Liga title dated back over two decades to the Kempes era. Their recent resurgence began in the mid-1990s under Luis Aragonés, who led them to a second-place finish in the league.

However, from 1991, when Guus Hiddink first took charge of Valencia, to 1997, the club had cycled through nine head coaches in six years—including Hiddink's two separate stints, which made it an even ten.

This constant upheaval destabilized the club, threatened chairman Francisco Roig's position, and made Valencia an unappealing prospect for any ambitious manager.

In 1997, Roig made a desperate gamble, recruiting Claudio Ranieri from Serie A after his successful revival of Fiorentina.

This marked a turning point.

Before 1997, Valencia was a quintessential Spanish team focused on attacking football. They boasted talents like Penev, Romário, Ortega, and Mijatović, all high-caliber stars.

Ranieri, with his Italian defensive background, overhauled Valencia's tactics, focusing on defense and bringing in several Italian players.

For instance, he ousted Ortega, infuriating the fans.

In his first season, Ranieri led Valencia to a Copa del Rey title—their first trophy in years—and earned a tenuous foothold at the club.

In his second season (1998/99), Ranieri further reshaped the team tactically, introducing young players like Angulo and fully utilizing Mendieta, transforming him into a central figure in midfield.

His 4-4-2 formation relied on a strong defense and lightning-fast counterattacks, with Claudio López and Adrian Ilie leading the charge. Valencia thrived, particularly in domestic competitions, defeating Barcelona three times across the league and Copa del Rey.

By this point, Ranieri's transformation of Valencia was a resounding success. The club secured a fourth-place league finish and a Copa del Rey title, earning widespread acclaim.

But then, Atlético's Jesus Gil intervened.

In the summer of 1999, Gil poached Ranieri, hoping he could replicate his success at Valencia and restore Atlético to its former double-winning glory.

Everyone knows what happened next.

Forced unions are rarely fruitful.

Meanwhile, Valencia, after losing Ranieri, hired Héctor Cúper, who had recently performed wonders with Mallorca, taking them to the Cup Winners' Cup final.

Ambitious and riding high, Cúper shared Ranieri's preference for the 4-4-2 system but rejected the latter's long-ball counterattack approach.

Cúper believed this strategy had a fatal flaw: while it worked against dominant teams like Barcelona and Real Madrid—who left ample space behind their lines—it faltered against mid-to-lower-tier teams who stayed compact.

As a La Liga heavyweight, Valencia needed a more nuanced strategy.

Cúper replaced long balls with a layered, possession-based build-up, blending Latin flair with traditional Spanish techniques.

He further refined Valencia's midfield.

Gerard López, nicknamed "Little Guardiola," became a key player. Mendieta was unleashed to his full potential, and Argentine winger Kily González joined to bolster the left flank.

Cúper transformed Valencia from Ranieri's defensive counterattacking team into a possession-oriented side featuring a 4-4-2 diamond midfield.

Under his guidance, Valencia maintained defensive solidity while significantly improving their offensive fluidity and aesthetic appeal.

This approach saw Valencia dominate in Europe.

In the Champions League quarterfinals, they demolished Lazio—one of Serie A's most formidable teams—5-2 in the first leg.

Amazingly, four of those five goals were scored by midfielders, with Gerard netting a hat-trick.

Valencia was on fire, their form striking fear across Europe.

But not in Yang Hao.

"Valencia is a team with exceptional cohesion, incredibly versatile, and equally adept at attack and defense—there's no disputing that," Yang Hao began during a post-match analysis session with his coaching staff.

He spoke with a broad perspective, while the coaching team delved into the details to convey his vision to the players during training sessions.

"The defense speaks for itself. Let's focus on their midfield. Gerard, nicknamed 'Little Guardiola,' is a true box-to-box player."

In 2000, Gerard's star was burning brightly. His talent eventually earned him a €21.6 million transfer to Barcelona—a staggering fee at the time.

"On the flanks, they've got Kily González and Mendieta. And in the attacking midfield role, Javier Farinós. All three are incredibly versatile and effective on both ends of the pitch."

This marked the key difference between Cúper and Ranieri.

Ranieri's approach was about sitting deep and launching long counterattacks after regaining possession.

Cúper's Valencia, however, could adapt to different styles, building patiently through the midfield or striking quickly when needed.

After hours of dissecting footage, Yang Hao leaned back, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"So, gentlemen," he concluded, "how about we dig a little trap for Cúper?"

Unlike Ranieri, who preferred long passes to launch counterattacks, Cúper leaned toward a South American and Spanish style, emphasizing layer-by-layer build-up after winning the ball.

This style clearly placed higher demands on the passing ability of midfielders.

"But if you carefully examine Valencia's diamond midfield," Yang Hao explained, "you'll notice that aside from Gerard López, the other three players share a common trait: decent technique but not particularly refined, solid passing but weak organizational skills. They're active defensively, but lack speed and physical strength."

"Kily González is relatively well-rounded, but Mendieta and Farinós exhibit these weaknesses very clearly."

What's often called "versatility" can sometimes just mean mediocrity.

True all-rounders with exceptional skills—like Deco, Modrić, or Xavi—are rare gems of world-class quality.

Mendieta, at one point, was close to becoming a global star, but his move to Serie A destroyed that potential.

In La Liga, his physicality was sufficient. In Serie A? Not even close.

This wasn't an isolated phenomenon.

Farinós flopped in Italy as well, as did "Little Buddha" Iván de la Peña. Spanish midfielders often struggled to adapt to the defensive intensity of Serie A.

Even within Italy, players like Pirlo—originally an attacking midfielder—were pushed into deeper roles like defensive midfield.

"Besides Angulo and Claudio López up front, Valencia's four midfielders aren't particularly fast, especially Farinós and Mendieta. Both stand around 1.73 meters tall but lack pace."

Spain has produced many players of this type—think of Yang Hao's memory of Isco.

This creates a significant issue: without speed, how do you launch effective counterattacks?

Ranieri's solution was long balls to exploit the strikers' speed. Cúper, however, opted for systematic build-up.

Cúper's mathematical solution was simple: push the whole team forward.

Speed might be lacking, but with the formation pressing higher, they could win the ball in advanced areas, shortening the distance to goal and enabling swift counterattacks.

This tactical philosophy later evolved into Benítez's iconic 4-2-3-1 during his time at Valencia.

Benítez dropped a forward, added a defensive midfielder, and revamped the squad. After Farinós left, they brought in Aimar. Selling Gerard López, they recruited Baraja and promoted Albelda from within.

This transformed Valencia's midfield into a pressing machine, while Aimar was free to unleash his creative flair.

Replacing Claudio López with Benítez's protégé Mista from Tenerife further refined the team.

Valencia's tactical evolution—from Ranieri to Cúper to Benítez—was a step-by-step progression, constantly refining the lineup and system.

Ultimately, this process forged the remarkable Valencia of the turn of the century, a team that stunned European football.

But now, with Yang Hao in the mix, it was uncertain whether Valencia could achieve the glory they had in his past life.

With Atlético in a dire situation, Valencia was an obstacle they had to overcome.

While others feared Valencia, Yang Hao was unshaken.

He knew that in the near future, during a much-anticipated Champions League final, Cúper's Valencia would expose its greatest vulnerability.

Even after consecutive Champions League heartbreaks, failing to clear the final hurdle, the team's fundamental flaws persisted.

Their Achilles' heel? Lack of firepower in high-stakes matches.

Following their 2000 Champions League defeat and the sale of Claudio López to Lazio, Valencia signed high-target striker John Carew and Aimar, Lionel Messi's idol.

Despite these moves, Valencia still fell to Hitzfeld's Bayern Munich in the Champions League final, undone by the German side's steely resilience.

"Gentlemen!"

After finalizing his plan, Yang Hao looked confidently at his staff.

"In the coming week, I need all of you to help me set a massive trap for Cúper and his Valencia."

"A trap so irresistible that Cúper won't have a choice but to fall into it!"

(End of Chapter)

Happy New Year friends, thank you for your support this year, I hope to continue counting on your support this new year.