"Tiago, you need to learn how to read the game… Always keep an eye on your teammates' movements while on the field. Once you receive the ball, pass it quickly to the right person at the right time. Don't forget—you're a midfielder. I know you played left-midfield back in Brazil, but now I want you in central midfield. It's not just about focusing on one side of the field. You need to keep track of everything that's going on—three dimensions, not just one. Think, understand? Playing with your brain will bring you far more joy than just relying on your legs."
Motta nodded. Back in Brazil, he played left-midfield, but after joining Mallorca, Jose had him in the central role. At first, he didn't understand why, but after six months, he was starting to adapt.
"You're not the fastest player, not cut out for a pure winger role. You're better suited for a more versatile role, combining central and wide play. You've got the physicality for it—wasting that by not becoming an all-around midfielder would be a mistake."
"In the middle, you can dictate play and make runs forward when necessary. Those runs will always put pressure on the opposition. You'll be far more valuable as a midfielder contributing to both attack and defense than as a player who just hangs around the front."
"Being the brain of the midfield might not be glamorous, but it's crucial."
Jose's words stuck with Motta. He constantly emphasized similar points to Luke, too.
"You're a forward, but your style is different from Diego's. He's physically stronger and a natural goal scorer. Don't get discouraged—you've got your own strengths. Your technique and agility are better, and you're more versatile. You can even contribute on the wings."
"Be a well-rounded forward. It'll benefit both you and the team."
"Not every striker needs to just work on finishing. Train your passing and playmaking skills, too—you'll see the difference."
With Jose's guidance, Motta and Luke's performances improved steadily in Mallorca's B team. They played in the Spanish second division, which, while preventing promotion to La Liga, allowed them to shine in the middle tier. Despite not breaking into the promotion zone, they were much better than the previous season, when they barely avoided relegation.
This stark contrast to the first team's performance made Alemani realize it was time for his son to take the reins of the senior squad. Mid-season changes were tough, and Mallorca struggled to find a big-name coach. Bringing in a B team coach or assistant seemed like the best option. After all, the gap between Mallorca's first team in La Liga and the second team's progress made it hard for anyone to argue with the decision.
"What? You only want to be a temporary fix for six months?" Alemani was shocked by his son's response.
"Exactly, Dad. Just six months… My job is to keep the team up. After that, I'll return to the youth team and continue coaching there," Jose replied with a smile.
"Why's that?" Alemani was perplexed. Most coaches aimed to step up from youth or assistant coaching to the first team, as it brought both prestige and a much bigger paycheck. Jose's current salary as a youth coach was around $100,000, while leading the first team would likely earn him at least $500,000. Alemani knew his son wasn't struggling financially...
"Dad, can we talk privately? Not as a club president and youth coach, but just as father and son?" Jose suddenly asked.
Alemani hesitated but nodded. "Okay."
Privately, without the usual roles, they could speak freely.
"What kind of club do you think Mallorca is?" Jose asked after they sat down.
"The only professional club on the island. The biggest pride of Mallorca," Alemani replied without a second thought.
Jose smiled. "From a fan's perspective, sure. But let's look at it from another angle."
Alemani nodded. "Go ahead."
"It's a club with little potential for growth," Jose said casually. "Let's break down the club's structure. The Asensio family holds 60% of the shares, Vicente Grandé holds 30%, and the rest is split between a handful of smaller shareholders. Except for a few small ones, none of the shareholders are from Mallorca. For them, the club is just a tool to generate dividends. As long as Mallorca is profitable, they don't care about anything else."
Alemani opened his mouth to argue but realized he couldn't refute his son's point. The management had always operated this way. Even in the transfer market, they made a profit every year, which went straight to the shareholders as dividends. Mallorca's situation hadn't changed much in years...
"Don't forget, we're just working for them," Alemani sighed.
"That's why I only want to fix things temporarily," Jose said, shaking his head. "Being the head coach of a team like this has no future. At least not here at Mallorca. Maybe I could do what Coach Cooper did—show my skills for a few years, then move on to a bigger club… But I don't want to prove myself anywhere but here."
"Son, I'm touched by your loyalty to Mallorca," Alemani said, shaking his head. "But as a coach, you need to think about your future."
"I don't want to be a wandering coach, jumping from club to club chasing trophies... It's not a bad life, but it's not my idea of success," Jose laughed. "I'd rather be like Guy Roux, the iconic manager of Auxerre—being the face of the club."
"But that's not possible at Mallorca," Alemani shook his head. "Roux was Auxerre. He was the heart and soul of that club. Even though he didn't own it, no one in the management dared to question his decisions. Mallorca isn't like that. Roux built Auxerre from the ground up, taking it from amateur status to the top of French football. You don't have the same situation."
"I know that, Dad," Jose nodded. "So, if I don't have the conditions, I'll create them."
"Create conditions? How?" Alemani was stunned.
"If I own the majority of Mallorca's shares, and you become the club president, wouldn't that give us the power to change things?" Jose smiled.
Alemani's mouth dropped open. "The majority of shares? Son, are you serious? Do you have any idea what those shares are worth?"
"I have money," Jose said calmly.
"Oh, right. I keep forgetting you're a billionaire now," Alemani paused, realizing how much his son had.
"Mallorca isn't worth two hundred million. Honestly, it's probably not even worth one hundred million. The real value, aside from the players, is the training facilities. Even the stadium we play in, St. Moisés, belongs to the local council. If not for the university celebrations, we'd still be playing in Buenos Aires. If we were to assess the club's worth, it's probably around fifty million dollars," Alemani continued, thinking ahead. "But even if it's only worth that, they won't sell at that price. I know that much."
"It's not impossible," Jose shook his head. "Look at the Asensio family. Mallorca barely generates any revenue for them. They only get a couple million in dividends every year. The rest is peanuts. Juan Asensio doesn't even care about the club. He's more interested in Malaga. If his father stops managing it, Juan may not even want to take over. Acquiring those shares for a reasonable price isn't impossible."
Alemani finally understood. Juan Asensio, Jose's childhood friend, had little attachment to Mallorca. It made sense now—he was far more likely to sell the shares cheaply if he wasn't emotionally invested.
"Well, even if you only get 60%, that gives you enough decision-making power," Jose smiled. "Dad, what does Grandé and the other shareholders care about?"
"Dividends," Alemani answered instinctively.
"Exactly. So, what happens if the dividends stop coming?" Jose posed the question, then quickly answered it himself. "If I offer them a slightly higher market price for their shares, they'll have to sell. For guys like Grandé, who only get a few hundred thousand in dividends a year, that's a small price to pay."
"How could the dividends stop?" Alemani asked, now genuinely concerned. "Son, you're not thinking of cooking the books, are you...?"
"I wouldn't do anything illegal," Jose laughed. "But once I have 60% of the shares, I'll have the power to make decisions. If I use the dividends to fund club operations and expansion, the shareholders can't do anything. They can object, but they can't overturn my decisions. If they're not happy, they can keep their shares and walk away."