There wasn't much reaction from the dia to the news of Vázquez's dismissal. Everyone knew it was just a matter of ti before it happened. Not only was José lurking in the background, but the fact that Vázquez had led a mid-tier team to the bottom of the table was already the biggest mistake—keeping him for this long was a testant to the Mallorcan managent's patience.
Despite the managent's recent statent that they wouldn't fire Vázquez, the coach himself had tendered his resignation, leaving little for the managent to be blad for. Soon enough, old Alemany confird that Vázquez's resignation had been accepted, with a statent thanking him for his contributions over the past few months.
For Mallorca, Vázquez's voluntary departure was the best-case scenario. When José heard the news, he felt so degree of respect for Vázquez—at least he had resigned decisively, preserving his last bit of dignity.
What made Vázquez most helpless was that, after his dismissal, the dia weren't focused on why he left, but rather on whether José would take over. From this perspective, Vázquez was indeed in a pitiful situation.
Before leaving, Vázquez had planned to talk to José, but after resigning, he had ti to reflect—what had gone wrong with José? Sure, José had been arrogant after their match, but they hadn't interacted much since. Why had Vázquez deliberately tried to erase José's influence when he beca the manager of Mallorca? In hindsight, that had only led to player backlash. Moreover, why had he forced an attacking style when he knew Mallorca, led by older players, wasn't suited for it? It wasn't a matter of going against José—it was more about going against himself.
But in the end, he didn't approach José. He felt he should rest for a while, carefully reflect on the mistakes he'd made over the past year, and beco stronger before possibly confronting José.
Vázquez's mood wasn't sothing anyone cared about. The dia were more interested in whether José would take over both roles. In Spain, it was quite common for a club's technical director to be a forr player who had served the club, leveraging their connections and reputation. When a coach was dismissed, many teams liked to use the technical director as a stopgap, almost becoming routine.
The Mallorca fans, on the other hand, were eagerly awaiting José's return. To them, José's departure had been an accident, and now that he was coming back, it felt like the most natural thing.
Clearly, José thought the sa.
After returning from South Arica, José learned of Vázquez's resignation. When he saw his father in front of him, he smiled.
"Are you ready, José?" old Alemany asked.
"I've been ready for ages, Dad!" José replied with a big laugh.
Vázquez had announced his resignation after the match on November 12th, when José was still in Brazil, finalizing Ronaldinho's transfer. He returned to Spain on November 15th.
For those three days, Mallorca's training was led by assistant coach Natal, and most of the players were quite excited. They all knew José's return was inevitable. Last season, he had been the interim coach; this season, he would be the permanent head coach, the club's largest shareholder, and the technical director!
Most of the veteran players who had been coached by José were very excited for his return, as their last few months under him had been quite enjoyable. However, newcors like Jorge and Delgado felt uneasy, unsure about how the new coach would view them, especially since they had been brought in by Vázquez. Biagini, who had been recovering from an injury last season, shared the sa unease.
The most dejected was probably Borges. After returning to the starting lineup this season, his performances had been decent, but the team's poor results ant he carried a large share of the bla. Borges began to seriously consider his future. After all, he was the Argentine national team goalkeeper—if he kept playing as a substitute, how could he maintain his spot on the national team? To make things worse, Franco, his fellow Argentine, had never even been selected for the national team, and yet he would be forced to back him up at the club. That was a hard pill to swallow.
Amid all these mixed feelings, they welcod José's return.
On the morning of November 16th, as the Mallorca players changed in the locker room and made their way to the training ground, they saw the familiar figure of soone in sportswear.
"Wow! The boss is finally back!" Nino shouted first, laughing.
Ibargasa was also happy. Though he had been a starter under Vázquez, he wasn't fond of playing as an attacking midfielder, preferring to play on the wings. With José's return, he hoped to return to a position he was more comfortable with.
The veteran players weren't as openly emotional as Nino, but the strong bond they had built last season made their spirits high—these past months of training and matches had been tough, with all the running feeling like a major ordeal.
Seeing the high spirits of the players, José gave a slight nod. "Good. Looks like your discipline hasn't gotten worse over the break."
"Boss, we're all very professional players!" Nino shouted, making the other players laugh.
José smiled faintly. "That's right, I know you're all very professional... Alright, let's start the training. We've got a match in three days. I need you all in top form!"
"No problem, boss!" the players responded in unison.
José surveyed the players for a mont before slowly continuing, "One thing you need to know is that the Mallorca of today is not the sa as last season... This winter, we'll be bringing in a lot of new players. Mallorca will no longer rely on just one squad to fight for survival. Better players, more intense competition, and higher goals. From now on, the best players will take the field, and I'll treat everyone equally. As long as you listen to , next season, we might be aiming for the Champions League. The league goal won't be survival, but a title challenge!"
José's voice wasn't loud, but it struck the players deeply.
The days of relying on one squad would be over, and the competition between players would intensify. Those who couldn't et the demands of a Champions League push would be replaced. That was the ssage José was sending.
"I can assure you, each of you will be used according to your abilities, and each of you will have a role at the club. Starting next season, the wage structure will change. Mallorca will no longer settle for the UEFA Cup or the Copa del Rey as goals. We'll be aiming for the highest honor in European football—the Champions League!"
This was a huge goal, one that Mallorca's players had never seriously considered before. But José spoke of it so naturally, so confidently.
Yet the results José had achieved last season made the players believe he could actually do it—he had taken a team on the brink of relegation to eighth place, earned the most points in the second half of the season, won the UEFA Cup undefeated, and remained unbeaten at ho. These achievents had firmly cented José's position in the players' hearts!
What's more, now that he was essentially the club's actual owner, his words would define Mallorca's goals for the next few years.
The reason José made such a bold statent right after his return was because he had noticed so concerning signs in the team. The failures of Góz and Vázquez could partly be blad on veteran players becoming complacent, unwilling to fully buy into the tactics, and showing passive behavior during matches. Last season, José had taken a more conciliatory approach, but repeated success had led so veterans to think they were in control of the team. José's strong words now were ant to remind them who was really in charge.
Don't forget, I'm the largest shareholder of the club. If you want to rebel, fine. I can do without you!
Besides, most of these veteran players still had strong ties to Mallorca, and their dissatisfaction was mainly due to tactical disagreents. As long as the new players were better and could achieve better results, José was confident that the veterans wouldn't be a problem even if they had to take up substitute roles.
For example, Miguel Soler and Olézola were nearing retirent, and even as substitutes, they wouldn't make too much of a fuss. As for Nadal and N'Gonga, José would continue to rely on them for now, as there were no players who could replace them yet.
The locker room could have factions, but there could only be one core, and that core was José. That was his minimum requirent.
"I think everyone knows I'm the largest shareholder of the club... There are so things I need to tell you. Previously, Mallorca had to sell players every year to avoid deficits. But now, that's no longer a concern. Unless a player wants to leave or no longer ets the club's requirents, I generally won't sell them. You don't need to worry about playing well and being sold to balance the books. Mallorca may not have the financial power of top clubs, but based on your performance, you'll be compensated fairly. You'll earn as much as any player at your level, and you won't be treated worse than any other player!"
José laid down the stick, but he also gave the carrot. He understood the balance.
The good tis for the main players would eventually end, but their inco would increase. After carefully weighing it, this seed like a better deal.
With their minds on various things, the players began their training. José stood by the sidelines, silently watching them.
The next match was in three days. The opponent wasn't strong, as they were facing Numancia at ho. For José, winning this ga was a must.
Taking a deep breath, José was confident. He wanted to announce to all of La Liga—now, I, José, am back!
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