Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

In the end, Mourinho didn’t go so far as to substitute Khedira in the final minutes of the first half.

He was a manager who prized tactical control and hated when his players deviated from his plan—but he wasn’t so stubborn as to be foolish.

Still, while Mourinho saved Khedira some face by not pulling him early, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make the German pay a price.

As soon as the referee blew for halftime, Mourinho signaled for Li Ang to follow the starters into the locker room.

The message was loud and clear. Mourinho didn’t need to say more—Real Madrid’s home fans were already buzzing in discussion.

And when the rest of the starters were inside, Mourinho gestured for Marcelo, who had entered last, to shut the door.

Li Ang instantly sensed trouble.

Sure enough, the moment the door closed, Mourinho exploded—he went down the list, tearing into nearly every starter from the first half with ruthless precision.

Only Casillas and Xabi Alonso escaped unscathed.

”I know some of you only got back from international duty three days ago. You’re not fully rested. You’re not in rhythm.”

”Fine. Those are valid excuses for a poor performance.”

”But let me remind you—you represent Real Madrid. And your opponent is Osasuna. Do you even understand what that means?”

”It means that if we get held to a draw—or worse, if we lose to them—every single sports headline in Spain tomorrow will be about how we got humiliated at the Bernabéu!”

”Tell me—do you want that kind of headline? You want Osasuna to hand you a disgraceful defeat right here in front of our fans?!”

Mourinho’s words ignited something in the players.

They shouted in unison, ”No!”

Lose to Osasuna at the Bernabéu? That would be a disgrace beyond words.

If Barça caught wind of this, their fans would have a field day.

After all, Osasuna had only finished 12th in La Liga the previous season, barely staying clear of relegation.

And this was the team Real Madrid couldn’t beat?

If they couldn’t handle that, how could they ever talk about dethroning Barcelona?

It was unthinkable. Unacceptable.

And now that Mourinho had sparked their fury and rallied the troops, he eased off a little, shifting into tactical instructions for the second half.

In the first half, Real Madrid’s attack looked lively, but the ball was too scattered, the routes too unfocused, and the defense too unbalanced. Osasuna had launched several threatening counters, which in turn made Madrid more hesitant in attack.

The solution? Strike first in the second half. Set the tone. Pin Osasuna back early.

And the primary route of attack?

Left wing.

Cristiano Ronaldo and Marcelo.

As for the defensive imbalance…

Mourinho glanced at Khedira, who sat silently, his expression unreadable. There was a flash of helplessness in the coach’s eyes.

Why did this guy keep obsessing over making those forward runs?

It wasn’t that Mourinho didn’t want him involved in attack—but Khedira’s frequency and timing far exceeded what the coaching staff had expected.

If Real had no other option, then fine—Alonso would just have to cover more ground.

He could handle it. Alonso was a beast at executing tactical plans.

But now?

Mourinho did have another option.

He had pushed for Khedira’s signing primarily to ease the burden on Alonso, not to have Alonso babysitting his German partner in defense.

Yes, he believed in Khedira’s potential. Yes, he thought the German could be molded.

But his patience had limits.

Training was one thing.

Failing to perform in actual matches? Not acceptable.

So Mourinho called Li Ang’s name.

”You’re going on for the second half. Sami, take a break. Watch from the sidelines and try to feel the rhythm again.”

”Li Ang, listen—early in the half, your top priority is to support Xabi and secure midfield. I don’t care if you have to foul—you cannot let Osasuna counter us through the wings again.”

Simple, clear, effective.

Li Ang nodded repeatedly, then confirmed his role. ”No problem.”

After Mourinho finished explaining the broader tactical adjustments and told the players to take a few minutes to reset, the mood in the locker room shifted. The fire was back.

Li Ang checked his gear.

Most importantly, he made sure his Damaged Heavy-Duty Shin Guards and Damaged Lucky Wristband were equipped properly.

Then, he jogged out of the tunnel to warm up ahead of the second half.

Moments after kickoff, the Movistar La Liga commentators immediately noticed Real Madrid’s substitution.

No surprise there—Li Ang’s sunny, striking face was a magnet for the live cameras.

At that exact moment, several Spanish girls watching the game at home froze in place.

Wide eyes. Hands over mouths. Gasps of delight.

But before they could fully appreciate his good looks, Li Ang shattered the illusion with a bone-crunching tackle.

Turns out, handsome players weren’t always elegant attackers.

Sometimes, they were just ”ordinary” midfield butchers.

And Li Ang?

He was perfectly fine with that.

If Osasuna’s forwards saw his gentle appearance and thought he was an easy mark, he had every reason to wake them up fast.

His brutal tackle forced Osasuna striker Camuñas into an awkward leap before crashing face-first into the turf.

Ball retained.

Li Ang, still on the ground, poked it sideways with his toe to Xabi Alonso.

Six seconds into the second half, and Li Ang had already won back possession.

And off that recovery, Real Madrid launched one of their cleanest counters of the night.

Even though Benzema’s final shot didn’t hit the target, the Bernabéu crowd burst into applause.

Finally—finally—something that looked like Real Madrid football.

Osasuna, though, didn’t give up.

Three minutes later, they tried again—a fast break down the wing.

Monreal carried the ball past midfield and quickly passed to Nekounam.

Nekounam tried to slip a return ball behind Arbeloa, setting up a simple one-two with Monreal.

This time, Monreal made it.

The ball didn’t.

Li Ang had read the entire play, shifted into position, and intercepted with a clean touch.

”Li Ang! A key second defensive stop! Oh—beautiful diagonal pass out of pressure! Soriano missed it! Alonso! Long ball!!!”

The Movistar commentator’s voice was racing with excitement.

Defense to attack—fluid and lightning-quick.

Li Ang intercepted. Fed Alonso. Alonso launched a long ball.

And on the left flank, Cristiano was already in full stride.

Real Madrid’s attack had completely changed.

No more disjointed buildup.

No more broken transitions.

Now, they moved like a unit.

And anyone watching knew exactly what the difference was.

They looked to the back line. They looked to the midfielder anchoring everything.

That boy with solid defensive stops and clean short passes, calming the whole rhythm.

Was he flashy?

Not really.

But he was glowing—subtly, steadily.

Proving his value in his own way.

His name was Li Ang.

The Little Lion from La Fábrica.

Don’t hold back your expectations.

He deserves them.

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