Eden Arena in Prague, Czech Republic.
In the home dressing room, Chelsea's players were making their final preparations before going out.
Mourinho stood with his arms crossed, watching the players bustle about, quietly rehearsing his words in his head.
Strictly speaking, the European Super Cup was not a major competition, but it was tied to the team's morale.
It was also tied to Mourinho himself.
He did not want to lose to Gao Shen again.
Since Gao Shen made his debut, Mourinho had faced him several times but had never gained an advantage. He had never given up, always working, always trying, always waiting for an opportunity.
He believed that fate would favor him eventually.
Maybe tonight.
When everyone had almost finished, Mourinho checked the time, coughed twice, and stepped forward.
"Let me say a few words."
As soon as he spoke, everyone put down what they were doing. Those who were almost done wrapped up immediately.
The dressing room fell silent and all eyes turned to Mourinho.
Goalkeeper: Petr Cech.
Defense: Ashley Cole, Terry, Koulibaly, and Ivanovic.
Midfield: Lampard and Ramires as a double pivot, with Schürrle, Oscar, and Willian ahead.
Forward: Torres.
It was hard to say whether Mourinho's shape was a 4-2-3-1 or a 4-3-3. It depended on the positions of Schürrle and Willian.
The reason for this setup was Mourinho's pursuit of pace.
Juan Mata was becoming less and less favored in Mourinho's system.
Mikel, Mata, and Lukaku were now on the bench and in the dressing room.
…
"I spent many years in Spain."
As Mourinho spoke, he raised his right hand slightly, as if introducing himself.
Everyone knew he had a point to make.
"I spent years at Barcelona and almost became their head coach. Later I coached Real Madrid. If I say I am very familiar with Spanish football, I believe no one will object."
Everyone nodded.
There was nothing to object to. He knew it inside out.
"Whether it was my first spell at Chelsea, later at Inter Milan, or at Real Madrid, they always liked to say I was anti-football. What does that mean? It means we were not playing football."
"I have always been disgusted by this talk. If we are not playing football, what are we playing? Volleyball? Table tennis? Badminton? Or, the moon?"
At the end, Mourinho suddenly threw in that line and pointed upward, which made the dressing room erupt in laughter. It was genuinely funny.
"I am puzzled. Why should they get to define football? Can the powerful define what is football and what is anti-football? So if one day we defeat Barcelona and Spain, can we define them as anti-football?"
Everyone nodded again.
The logic was hard to refute.
"To go a step further, many people accuse me of being utilitarian, and I admit that. But I want to say that defense has always been the most important part of football tactics. Even those who oppose me cannot deny the importance of defending."
"The essence of football is scoring and being scored against. That is attack and defense."
"Then what is wrong with our tactics? If we prioritize defense, is that wrong?"
Mourinho paused, took a breath, then continued.
"I think Spanish teams are too obsessed with possession."
"I have seen this kind of possession many times. You know it. Seventy to eighty percent possession, over a thousand passes, but they cannot get into your box or threaten your goal."
"I do not understand what the point of that possession is."
"I think it is more self-congratulation. They will tell you how hard they worked, how diligent they were, how much advantage they had, how much possession they had, how good they were, but that they were unlucky and lost."
"That is nonsense."
"You practiced a thousand penalties before the match, but none of them went in. What is there to be proud of? What gives you the right to say that?"
"Spanish football gives me the feeling of endless overtime. Things that could be done within working hours are dragged out and delayed, forcing overtime. It is a sickness."
"I have never bothered with football like that."
"I always emphasize efficiency and speed."
The dressing room was quiet. Everyone listened in silence.
It sounded less like a pep talk and more like Mourinho speaking from the heart.
He was telling the Chelsea players what he wanted and what he disdained.
"Too many sideways and back passes. No tempo. No big switches. No sudden bursts. Players stop using their individual strengths. No one dares to take risks, like ostriches with their heads in the sand. As long as they do not lose the ball, they think it is fine."
"In their philosophy, as long as the ball is under my control, there will be a moment when you make a mistake."
"They wait forever, like timid cowards."
When Mourinho almost shouted this, the atmosphere clearly shifted.
Everyone's emotions were stirred.
"Real Madrid and Barcelona, and the Spanish national team, have different tactics, but essentially they are the same. Their players are all technically strong and can control the ball against any opponent. They love to have the ball."
"I can assure you that Real Madrid will dominate possession tonight."
There was no doubt Chelsea's players could not match Real Madrid technically.
But that did not mean Chelsea would be easily beaten.
Football has never relied solely on technique. Tactics have never been only about technical combinations.
If that were true, Barcelona would be unbeatable.
"Tonight is an opportunity, a chance to redeem ourselves and all the teams and players like us around the world."
"I hope you give your best on the pitch, burst that bubble, let the world see clearly, and rediscover what football really is."
"We also want to use this match to tell all fans that the football the Spanish play is not the only football. We play football too. We are not anti-football. On the contrary, we are the real football that has stood the test of decades and centuries."
Mourinho grew more animated as he spoke.
The Chelsea players became more and more fired up as they listened, some even shouting along.
"For tonight's match, I have only one request."
"Go out there and beat Real Madrid the way we know how, and prove to the world that we are right."
Chelsea's players suddenly became pumped up, yelling with excitement.
…
From the first minute, Gao Shen realized the challenge.
Real Madrid kicked off, but right after the start, Chelsea's powerful striker Fernando Torres tripped his compatriot Xabi Alonso in the attacking third. He did not get a card, but referee Eriksson gave him a warning.
That already sent a clear signal.
Chelsea's players were fired up.
Gao Shen's opening idea was a quick strike.
He knew Mourinho would defend. If he did not, how could Chelsea go head to head with Real Madrid?
So Gao Shen wanted to seize the initiative, try to score, force Chelsea to push up, then the game would open up.
He did not expect Mourinho to be so committed.
First Torres, then Lampard, then Koulibaly brought Benzema down from behind.
Three consecutive fouls without a card. They were clearly testing the referee's line.
This disrupted Real Madrid's attacking patterns. They could not connect, and the rhythm became messy.
Gao Shen stood on the touchline and saw it clearly, but there was nothing he could do.
He could hardly ask Mourinho to keep a gentleman's agreement and use words instead of force.
As if Mourinho would care.
Despite frequent fouls, Chelsea's defense was tight, and every foul was made in the right area. It made it hard for Real Madrid to find their rhythm, which was lethal.
Real Madrid played awkwardly.
On top of that, Chelsea's three lines stayed very compact, shutting down Real Madrid's penetration.
In the sixth minute, Chelsea suddenly launched a quick counter.
Schürrle used his speed to break away from Arbeloa on the left, drove into the left side of Real Madrid's box, then squared to the penalty spot. Torres arrived, ready to shoot.
At the critical moment, Varane recovered at full speed. He got there before Torres and poked the ball away to the side. Ramos got back in time and controlled it, narrowly averting danger.
Gao Shen called out to Arbeloa from the sideline.
The source of the danger was Arbeloa failing to track Schürrle quickly enough, allowing him to accelerate away.
Fortunately, Torres no longer had his old pace. Otherwise, even Varane might not have stopped him.
But that was Mourinho's plan.
He would sit compactly, wait for Real Madrid to make mistakes under their own initiative, then hit fast on the counter.
Mourinho's trick had proven effective. He almost always used it against the likes of Barcelona, Real Madrid, or Manchester City.
It was a hard bone to chew.
If you were not careful, you would not only fail to bite it, you might break your own teeth.
Gao Shen signaled Arbeloa to pay attention, and also told Marcos Alonso on the left to keep an eye on Willian.
At the same time, Gao Shen instructed Xabi Alonso and the midfield to drop the overall line a little and not press too high.
If they pressed Chelsea too much, would they not also be squeezing their own attacking space?
After giving his instructions, Gao Shen could only wait.
He wanted to see whether Chelsea's players could execute Mourinho's plan perfectly.
As soon as they made a mistake, Real Madrid would have a chance.
(To be continued.)