"Do you have any idea how I feel right now?"
After the match, in an office at São Paulo Stadium, Mourinho sat across from Gao Shen, looking at him with resentnt.
If he hadn't seen Gao Shen pull out a box of expensive wine, each bottle worth a small fortune and offer them to him as a gift, he would have been even more annoyed.
For the sake of this fine wine, I'll tolerate this!
Even so, his tone still carried deep frustration. After all, he had just lost the match.
Inter Milan had dominated possession and pressed forward relentlessly in the first half. But as soon as the second half started, Napoli suddenly turned up the intensity, launching a relentless assault that forced Inter Milan into a defensive stance.
Then, in the 65th minute, Gao Shen made his move, substituting Cavani into the ga. Just eight minutes later, the Uruguayan striker capitalized on a pinpoint assist from Di María and fired ho the opening goal for Napoli.
And then ca the most infuriating part.
The mont Napoli took the lead, they imdiately dropped back and parked the bus!
Inter Milan threw everything forward in a desperate bid to equalize, but no matter how hard they pushed, they couldn't find a way past Napoli's defense.
Mourinho was so furious on the sidelines that he nearly lost it. He felt like he had been completely outplayed by Gao Shen.
Damn it! First, you borrow my tactics to train your team, and now you don't even do a favor in return? That's just cruel!
Right after the match, Mourinho stord off, ready to confront Gao Shen and demand answers. But before he could get a word in, Gao Shen casually pulled out a box of top-shelf wine and practically bribed him on the spot.
So now, here they were Mourinho still fuming, but at least venting his frustrations over a good drink.
"Go on, let it all out," Gao Shen said, ever the patient listener.
Winning the ga was one thing, but he couldn't exactly stop Mourinho from complaining about it, could he?
Mourinho swirled the wine in his glass, took a sip, then clicked his tongue and sighed internally. Damn, this is good stuff. But, of course, he wasn't about to admit that out loud.
"This wine… eh, it's not that great," he muttered with feigned disdain.
Gao Shen chuckled inwardly but didn't call him out on it.
He knew Mourinho too well, this guy always said one thing but ant another. It wasn't anything new.
So, he simply waited.
Mourinho still had plenty more to get off his chest.
Sure enough, after pouring himself another glass, the Portuguese coach let out a long, heavy sigh.
"You know what? I feel like a damn hostess at a karaoke bar," he grumbled. "I spent the whole night entertaining you, singing my heart out, drinking with you and in the end, instead of tipping , you robbed blind! Tell , doesn't that make you feel even a little guilty?"
Gao Shen burst out laughing.
"Alright, alright, I'll take the bla for this one. My bad," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
His imdiate admission of guilt threw Mourinho off for a mont.
After a brief pause, Mourinho took another sip of wine before shaking his head.
"You really are my nesis. You always make my life difficult."
At this point, the situation was crystal clear.
Before this match, Inter Milan had been five points behind Napoli in the standings. But after this loss, the gap had widened to eight points.
With only five rounds left in the Serie A season, an eight-point deficit was almost impossible to overco.
In other words, Napoli had practically sealed the title.
They were on the verge of becoming the first team from southern Italy to ever defend the Serie A championship successfully.
According to the Italian dia, this would be a defining mont in football history one that could permanently shift the balance of power in Italian football.
But for Mourinho, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
Inter Milan had poured significant resources into strengthening the squad, yet the results still weren't showing.
"In all honesty, your squad just needed more ti to gel this season," Gao Shen said, offering so words of encouragent. "I believe that with a bit more refinent in your tactics and lineup next season, you'll be even stronger."
Inter Milan's squad was undeniably stacked.
If there was one issue holding them back, it was Ibrahimović's inconsistency.
The Swedish striker was a double-edged sword his presence could elevate a team's ceiling, but at the sa ti, his unpredictability could limit it as well.
And that… was a tricky problem to solve.
Of course, he has to be used, but if he isn't used properly, it could be disastrous.
This situation is actually quite similar to Eto'o at Barcelona.
There's no doubt about Eto'o's ability, he's a fantastic player. But playing as a central striker? That's a challenge.
Eto'o is a poacher, an instinctive goal-scorer. He doesn't have the hold-up play to battle against central defenders, nor is he the type to link up play between the flanks. This makes using him as a center-forward sowhat contradictory.
A team like Barcelona thrives on quick transitions and sharp counterattacks, but positional play is just as crucial.
In fact, because they dominate possession so heavily, they often spend most of their ti playing positional football.
Lately, Guardiola has taken a different approach, shifting ssi to the center while moving Eto'o to the wing.
Surprisingly, it has worked even better than having Eto'o as the central striker.
In Gao Shen's previous life, after leaving Barcelona, Eto'o moved to Inter Milan, where he also played out wide, with Diego Milito leading the line.
So things are just difficult. If sothing doesn't fit, it doesn't fit, you can't force it.
Gao Shen couldn't help but wonder, will Guardiola still sign Ibrahimović in this life?
Should he try to talk him out of it?
…
"Have you figured out how to deal with Manchester United?" Mourinho asked.
Gao Shen shook his head. "Not yet."
Mourinho chuckled. He wouldn't admit it, but part of him enjoyed seeing Gao Shen struggle.
Between Gao Shen and Ferguson, he was more inclined to bet on Ferguson. The old man was just too cunning.
"It's normal," Mourinho said. "Anyone who faces Ferguson's Manchester United ends up with a headache. No one really knows how to play against them. The only other team that causes that kind of trouble is Liverpool but they're not doing so well right now."
With that, Mourinho launched into a series of stories about his clashes with legendary managers during his ti in the Premier League.
Right now, the Premier League was experiencing a golden era, making it the ultimate proving ground for head coaches.
Ferguson's Manchester United, Wenger's Arsenal, Benítez's Liverpool, Moyes' Everton, Martin O'Neill's Aston Villa, Redknapp's Tottenham…
Looking back, Mourinho had to admit, he missed the relentless, suffocating intensity of the Premier League.
"It felt like being on a battlefield," he described.
Serie A had its own pressures, but coaching in England was an entirely different experience nothing like La Liga either.
Gao Shen took the opportunity to ask a few questions. He was particularly curious about Mourinho's thoughts on Ferguson and his Manchester United.
"How do I put this?"
Mourinho tilted his head slightly, thought for a mont, then said, "I admire him. I really do. His ability to adapt, his deep understanding of football tactics, his absolute control over the team, it's unbelievable."
"When you go up against him, you have to be at your absolute best. You can't leave a single opening, because if you do, he'll find it and he'll hit you where it hurts the most."
After a brief pause, Mourinho added, "I think you should consider pressing them for the full 90 minutes."
Gao Shen shook his head. "Too risky. Cristiano Ronaldo is lethal on the counter, and with Carrick sitting deep, it could be a disaster."
"United's counterattacks don't always start with Ronaldo," Mourinho pointed out. "He actually struggles when he's put under defensive pressure, always has. But yes, his pace is frightening."
"You're right," Gao Shen nodded. "Carrick needs to be shut down. We can't give him any room to dictate play."
He recalled reading an old quote—either from Xavi or Iniesta—saying that if there was one player from Manchester United who could walk into Barcelona's midfield, it was Carrick.
That alone spoke volus about the Englishman's quality and tactical intelligence.
"Are you thinking about playing a defensive counterattack?" Mourinho asked.
Gao Shen hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know yet. I haven't figured it out." He let out a dry chuckle.
Mourinho burst into laughter. "That's normal. You're up against a man who's been in this ga for decades. How old are you again?"
"From tonight's match, I have to say, I do trust our defense," Gao Shen admitted. "But as you pointed out, Ferguson always has sothing unexpected up his sleeve. I feel like sitting back and countering might be too passive. United's defense is one of the best in Europe."
"Exactly!" Mourinho nodded. "So, you're walking a fine line here. You need to judge it for yourself."
Gao Shen understood. So things could only be truly learned through experience. Others could offer advice, but at the end of the day, execution was everything.
Many tactical principles sounded simple on paper, but applying them effectively was another story entirely.
Ferguson had built his legacy by mastering the basics and pushing them to the absolute limit.
That… was the mark of a true grandmaster.
"You also need to get a handle on Ibrahimović," Gao Shen added as a final thought. "Right now, he's like a wild horse that's broken free. If you can rein him in, he'll be a lethal weapon. If you can't, he'll beco a major liability."
Inter Milan's best chance of the night had fallen to Ibrahimović, but he had squandered it.
As a striker, he was an enigma, a source of both admiration and frustration.
Mourinho smirked. "I still rember the first ti I t Ferguson after arriving in the Premier League from Portugal. The old man gave a few words of advice that I still think about to this day."
Gao Shen listened attentively.
"In a team, if a player is bigger than the manager, he should be the one to leave, without hesitation."
"If a manager is coaching players who refuse to listen, and there are no consequences for it, then it's the manager who should go."
Mourinho chuckled. "For now, I can still yell at them!"
Gao Shen smiled and nodded. "Then I wish you good luck."
"You too." Mourinho extended a hand, shaking Gao Shen's firmly before continuing, "Ferguson is a monunt standing in front of all of us. He deserves respect, but on the pitch, that respect ans nothing."
"I believe the best way to respect Ferguson… is to beat him."
"As I said earlier, his ability to learn and adapt is frightening. The mont you defeat him, you awaken his competitive fire. He'll co back stronger, trying everything possible to get revenge."
"So don't hold back. Give him a real beating. No rcy!"
Mourinho's words were a mix of truth and mischief, as if he was eager to stir up chaos.
But Gao Shen could hear the sincerity behind them.
Ferguson was no ordinary opponent.
Beating him… would be anything but easy.
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