Chapter 155: With Pintus on Our Side, Attrition Battles Are Real Madrid's Home Turf
Li Ang's most lasting impression on neutral fans up to this point had been his steady form and high football IQ.
Whether in defense or offense, his performances rarely fluctuated. His development had always been methodical, step by step.
That was his style from the very beginning—he didn't attempt what he wasn't good at, and this consistent restraint gave fans the image of a composed, mature player.
Talented, smart, clean in his challenges—a "good guy" on the pitch.
So today, when they saw Li Ang pull off some sly, street-smart defensive moves, many neutral fans were caught off guard.
They suddenly realized:
"Oh… so it's not that Li Ang can't use the usual dark arts of a defensive midfielder—he just usually doesn't need to."
As for Real Madrid fans, they'd seen this before.
Last season, when Li Ang had backed up Khedira in a scuffle, he had adopted this exact "I-don't-give-a-damn" style to push back against Diego Costa.
For fans who didn't watch every Real Madrid match, it was a novelty. But for diehards, it was expected.
Li Ang's defensive style had always been adaptive.
He changed depending on who he was up against.
When facing Messi or Isco, the worst he'd do was tug a shirt.
Sure, there were minor fouls here and there, but never anything over the line—his defense always looked clean.
But against attackers like Diego Costa, who thrived on provocation and antagonizing defenders?
No mercy.
Whatever dirty tricks Costa pulled, Li Ang had no problem giving it right back.
He was clever enough to use these tricks not out of necessity, but as strategy. If you want fairness, don't be the one who starts with the underhanded tactics.
What, Costa gets to shove and elbow but Li Ang can't retaliate?
That's not how it works.
So Costa kept losing ground.
As long as he stayed outside the box and matched up against Li Ang, he was going to suffer.
Whatever advantage he'd found earlier against Alonso and Ramos was now gone.
And sure, Costa's antics weren't exactly comfortable for Li Ang either, but Li Ang never gave ground.
In a prolonged, grinding matchup, Atlético was the one that ultimately lost out.
With Costa silenced, Turan and Koke's passes inward lost their impact.
Without Costa to disrupt the back line, Falcao had no chance of shaking off Pepe or Ramos.
And a striker who can't even get a shot off?
Falcao might as well be replaced by an extra winger or midfielder.
Costa desperately wanted to replace Falcao as Atlético's main finisher—but deep down, he knew he wasn't quite there yet.
Still, he wanted to win this match against Real Madrid more than anything.
There was something in his blood that burned for the thrill of toppling giants.
In that sense, he was a lot like Simeone.
Fearless, relentless, and willing to do the dirty work—even as a striker, he threw himself into defense.
Seeing the team struggle, Costa began making wide, dragging runs to pull defenders.
And it had an effect.
In football, success often comes down to creating attacking superiority in certain zones.
With Costa pulling defenders around, Atlético's forwards and midfielders started making more runs, creating local numerical advantages, and slowly—opportunities emerged.
Turan could switch with Koke up front. But Filipe Luís couldn't do the same with Juanfran.
In Atlético's attacking system, Filipe functioned like a left winger.
Essien had him locked down. Alonso was also always nearby, making sure Filipe's forward runs were either cut short or completely snuffed out.
If he didn't go down the line, he'd cut inside—only to be boxed in by Alonso and Li Ang when he showed up.
That entire channel was completely shut down.
On the bench, Mourinho was visibly pleased.
All the time he'd spent studying Simeone's system had paid off.
To be fair, Mourinho did admire what Simeone had done in such a short time—this system where wingers tucked in and full-backs overlapped to provide width? It was brilliant.
And precisely because he respected it, he wasn't going to give Simeone even a sliver of a chance.
If Filipe and Juanfran were allowed to alternate their runs, and Koke and Turan could slice inside with quick passes, then Falcao might actually get a few clean looks.
Betting on a striker who scored 36 goals last season to misfire? That was just asking for tactical failure.
Even Karanka was beginning to fully grasp the essence of Simeone's attacking strategy.
"Overlapping fullbacks, midfield buildup, attacking transitions down the same vertical channels—at their peak, they can get six players involved at once!
The way they use the full width of the pitch is damn near perfect.
And the key? They've got a world-class finisher waiting at the end of it. It's just… such a shame."
Karanka trailed off, and next to him, Pintus raised an eyebrow, curious about that unfinished thought.
Mourinho crossed his arms and finished it for him.
"A shame their firepower is too concentrated.
This system is efficient, sure, and that's why Falcao's scoring at a goal-per-game rate.
But if you cut the supply line between him and the rest of the team, Atlético's attack falls apart.
Antonio (Pintus), imagine this—if they had two other players in the front line capable of scoring 10+ a season, could we still mark them this easily?"
The point was clear. Pintus nodded automatically.
If Atlético's firepower were more evenly spread, their current system would be way harder to defend.
Even if you shut down Falcao, you'd still have to worry about others. And Madrid's defenders would be pulled in multiple directions.
With two or more near-elite attackers, Real Madrid's defensive line would be stretched thin.
Thankfully, Atlético weren't there yet.
Costa had just barely scraped into double-digit goals last season, and now Li Ang had him locked up—he couldn't cause trouble in Madrid's box even if he wanted to.
And Turan? Koke?
One had scored five goals last season. The other? Just two.
They were fine organizers—Koke could even hit double digits in assists—but asking them to shoulder Falcao's finishing burden?
That was unrealistic.
So with heavy defensive investment in the early stages, Real Madrid completely smothered Atlético's build-up.
And even better—they weren't in any hurry to attack.
Just defending, not pushing forward. No transitions. No open space. Which meant Atlético couldn't even counter.
Simeone didn't even make it to the 20-minute mark before his expression changed—exactly as Li Ang had predicted.
By the 17th minute, he stood on the sidelines, hands on hips, frowning at the match that was quickly slipping away.
Before the match, he had stirred his players into a frenzy with his speech.
And on the pitch, Atlético's players were indeed running, fighting, working.
From a neutral perspective, Atlético looked decent. They couldn't break Madrid's defense, but they had more possession.
To the average viewer, it looked like Atlético were pressing and pushing, while Real Madrid occasionally broke out on counters.
So sure, it looked like Atlético had the initiative.
But to those who understood football? The analysts, the fans who watched tactically?
They knew why Simeone looked so uneasy.
These first 20 minutes, Madrid's defense had been airtight. Their attackers hadn't even broken a sweat—just jogging during counters, essentially warming up.
Atlético, on the other hand, had been running full throttle since kickoff.
They came to sit deep and counter, but Real Madrid flipped the script.
Atlético had to push forward. They were being forced into attack mode.
All that energy spent? That was real. It added up.
It might work in the first half. But what about after halftime?
"If this continues, Atlético will face a serious problem after the break.
Once fatigue sets in and they try to slow the game down, what happens if Real Madrid ramps it up?
Will Atlético's defense be able to hold?"
He Wei's commentary cut straight to the point.
And whether Atlético liked it or not, the game's tempo was no longer theirs to control.
Every time Atlético tried to back off and regroup, Real Madrid would suddenly press.
Recover possession, launch a counter. Atlético had to scramble back.
Even when they didn't lose the ball, Madrid made sure to keep the tempo up—if Atlético liked to press and run, then run they would.
The top three Madrid players? They hadn't even broken a sweat.
Li Ang had run the most, followed by Essien and Alonso. Modrić was managing his energy well.
Madrid's defense had executed perfectly in the first half, not allowing Atlético even a single dangerous chance.
Meanwhile, the attacking trio were still fresh—barely warmed up, really.
Compared to Pintus' notorious hellish training sessions, this was nothing.
"Comfortable," might even be the word.
Of course, the trio would have to take over the tempo in the second half.
Mourinho didn't start them just to jog around.
With the defense absorbing all the pressure and draining Atlético's midfield energy, it was time.
If Ronaldo, Di María, and Benzema couldn't break Atlético's back line in the second half?
They were in for a classic Mourinho hairdryer treatment at halftime.
"This style of play… why does it feel so familiar?"
As Mourinho finished laying out the second-half tactics in the locker room, Li Ang sipped his water and silently pondered.
Then, as the second half kicked off, Li Ang caught a glimpse of a certain bald figure sitting calmly on Real Madrid's bench—and it all clicked.
This was exactly the kind of tactical "alchemy" Zizou used during Real Madrid's three-peat Champions League era!
Back then, Real Madrid always loved to wear their opponents down in the first half, regardless of whether they were facing a powerhouse or an underdog. They would typically play even for the first 45 minutes.
Then, around the 60th or 70th minute, Madrid would ramp it up, using their superior fitness and stamina to completely overrun opponents.
The later the game went, the more clinical they became.
While other teams were slowing down in the 70th or 80th minute, Madrid would still be accelerating—few could withstand that kind of pressure.
Now that he thought about it, Mourinho's plan today really wasn't that different from Zidane's "mystic" strategy.
The difference? Zidane trusted his midfield's control more. His Madrid rarely let opponents enter the danger zones.
Mourinho, on the other hand, clearly put his faith in his defensive unit. He had no fear of Atlético operating in their half.
But when it came to that second-half surge to seize control of the match? Mourinho and Zidane were perfectly aligned.
It was all about high-tempo transitions, quick counterattacks, and wave after wave of pressure.
At first, Simeone didn't feel too concerned at the start of the second half.
He had expected Madrid to come out pressing, and he'd mentally prepared his players for it.
What he didn't expect was how long Madrid would press for.
This wasn't your standard "get an early goal" start.
This was relentless.
After Atlético repelled the first wave of attack, they thought Madrid would drop off again and wait for counter opportunities.
But no—Madrid didn't retreat.
Instead, they stepped higher. Li Ang and Modrić were practically camped out in Atlético's half, applying suffocating pressure.
The midfield press pushed forward. Madrid's attackers chased and swarmed.
Atlético's defense, suddenly under a world more pressure than in the first half, struggled to play the ball out.
In the 58th minute, Mourinho substituted Marcelo in for Coentrão.
Now Atlético's right side didn't dare advance either. With Ronaldo and Marcelo attacking in tandem, even Gabi had to shift over and commit to defense.
But unlike Atlético, Madrid didn't rely on just one scoring outlet.
When Atlético tilted their defensive shape to the right, Modrić coolly switched the ball across to Di María on the opposite side.
Mario Suárez and Filipe Luís both tried to contain the Argentine, but the Angel of Madrid exploded, burning past them with a burst of speed.
When Miranda left his zone to try and cut him off, Di María still managed to send the ball back into the middle under pressure.
Li Ang made a smart decision—he didn't push into the box. Instead, he shifted sideways to receive the pass.
That move instantly shook off Gabi, who had come in to cover.
Then, Li Ang sent a deadly through ball forward—not toward the left or Ronaldo, but straight into the path of the charging Benzema.
Godín's marking on Ronaldo was now wasted.
Even though Mario Suárez tried to recover in the box, that brief delay was all Benzema needed to take his touch and fire.
Courtois read his movement and expected a shot down the middle. He was ready.
But Benzema slipped the ball right through his legs.
Courtois froze.
He was great on the line—long limbs, fast reflexes, elite reach—but his one weakness?
That space between his legs.
It wasn't that he didn't want to get down—it was just that he was too tall to do it quickly.
Too late to close his legs, he could only watch in agony as the ball rolled into the net.
Courtois slammed the turf in frustration as he sat back helplessly.
"Di María wriggles free, lays it off—Li Ang! Brilliant vision, through ball!!!
BENZEMA—!!! OH!!! A nutmeg finish! Benzema drills it through Courtois' legs!
GOAL!!!
Godín got caught on Ronaldo, Suárez couldn't close down quick enough—Benzema was decisive and confident!
It's an assist from Li Ang! Benzema breaks the deadlock! 1–0 for Real Madrid in the 64th minute!"
He Wei's commentary reached fever pitch, and the Bernabéu roared in collective ecstasy.
Benzema was elated—scoring in a high-stakes derby? He sprinted to the corner flag, leaped high, and punched the air.
Li Ang, arms raised, let out a triumphant shout before hugging Modrić, who had dashed over from midfield.
Under the thunderous cheers, Simeone smacked his forehead and flung his hands down in frustration.
Mourinho, on the other hand, stood and applauded, visibly relieved.
He had been confident in his preparation, sure.
He never underestimated Simeone, no matter the difference in status between them in the football world.
But confidence doesn't eliminate doubt. Until the goal went in, Mourinho had carried a small knot of anxiety.
Now? He could breathe.
If they could score again before the 80th minute, the match would be sealed.
That was Mourinho's thinking—and it was shared by the players.
So while Simeone was still working out his tactical adjustments, Madrid struck again.
Three minutes later, seeing the tide shift even harder against them, Simeone gave last-minute instructions to Raúl García and Adrián.
He wanted to simplify the game.
García could bolster the midfield and pose a threat on aerial balls.
Adrián? Pure attacking gamble.
But before either could even step onto the pitch, the Bernabéu exploded again.
Di María had again beaten Filipe Luís, dancing past a foul attempt and cutting inside past Mario Suárez.
Two defenders beaten in seconds—the crowd was losing it.
At the edge of his range, Di María curled a shot toward the far corner.
Normally, that would've been a goal—and Di María knew it.
But this time, Courtois wasn't fooled. His reaction was lightning-fast. He extended his long arm and deflected the shot wide.
Incredible save.
Benzema immediately scrambled with Miranda to win the rebound.
He managed to knock it back to Modrić, who now had a clean look at goal from the top of the box.
But Modrić stayed calm. Instead of forcing a shot, he fed the ball to the left—to Ronaldo, who had peeled away from the box.
Ronaldo had already read the field. Juanfran and Koke were closing in. Cutting inside would be tough.
So he didn't.
Instead, he took a touch, created a sliver of space, and whipped in a low, driven cross.
Atlético's back line scrambled to shift across, chasing the ball to the far post.
But the cross was too sharp, too quick.
A flash of white burst through the crowd.
Li Ang rocketed in, challenging Filipe Luís for the ball.
Both players collided head-to-head—but it was Li Ang's header that struck the ball.
It bounced once, skipped past Courtois, and into the net!
Chaos erupted.
Courtois sat stunned once more, this time slamming the ground in fury.
"WHOA—!!! GOAL!!! A bouncing header!
Li Ang with the header! Real Madrid doubles their lead in under ten minutes!!!
Courtois was half a beat late again! It's 2–0!"
Once He Wei confirmed the scorer, his voice shot into the stratosphere.
On the pitch, Li Ang stood up, glanced at the goal, and beamed.
He sprinted to the corner, slid on his knees, and celebrated with his signature "mask" gesture.
Grass stains. Sweat. Pure adrenaline. Under the stadium lights, his face lit up the night.
The Real Madrid faithful were in total delirium.
Meanwhile, the scattered Atlético fans buried their heads in their hands.
Adrián and Raúl García stood frozen on the sideline, unsure what to do.
And Simeone?
Expressionless, sitting in silence.
His hands were clasped tightly for a moment… then slowly relaxed.
He looked utterly resigned.
On Madrid's bench, it was pandemonium.
Mourinho roared, charging out of the technical area with Karanka.
After the moment passed, Mourinho turned to Pintus and pulled him into a hug.
Most fans had no idea—but everyone inside the club knew:
Now that they had Pintus on their side?
Attrition battles?
They were Real Madrid's greatest weapon.
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