"Champions! Champions! Champions!"
"Party! Party! Party!"
Marcelo, Pepe, and others were bouncing around in the locker room. Earlier, during the match, they were gasping for air, looking like they'd die if they had to run one more step. Now, all that was gone.
The season was over, and these guys were light on their feet, not complaining about pain or fatigue, just pure excitement.
Moreover, this season had ended perfectly.
With the glorious achievement of a treble, it was only natural they wanted to let loose.
"Still, I'm a bit out of breath now, my body's tired. I don't think I can drink too much!"
Pepe said regretfully.
Suker suddenly threw an arm around Pepe's shoulder, grinning fiercely. "Can't drink? No way! You're drinking, damn it!"
Srna, nearby, grabbed Ramos by the neck, squinting. "You're drinking too! All season, I've been cleaning up your mess. Tonight, only one of us is walking out of that party on his feet!"
Ramos sneered. "You think I'm scared of you? Today, however many there are, I'm drinking you all under the table!"
Athletes, soldiers—these male-dominated groups were all similar.
Even though they rarely had chances to drink, if you said their drinking capacity was poor, they'd stubbornly challenge you.
"Suker, you sit next to me today." Casillas patted his chest. "Let's have a proper drinking match!"
Hearing this, Srna, Kaká, and others immediately turned to look.
They both gave Casillas a thumbs-up.
Brave man!
Daring to compete with Suker in drinking!
Suker shrugged; "I don't care, but you can't run away!"
"Just kidding!"
Casillas was also very confident in his drinking ability.
At that moment, the locker room door opened.
Mourinho walked in, beaming.
In the post-match press conference just now, he had talked ambitiously, enjoyed the limelight, and was in high spirits under the supreme honor of winning back-to-back trebles.
"Gentlemen, there will be no review or training today. From now on, we are no longer coach and players. We will celebrate the honors we've achieved this season together. Today, I will have a big drink with you all!"
Mourinho was also rarely letting loose.
If not now, then when?
Everyone cheered loudly.
Suker moved closer to Mourinho, grinning. "Boss, you don't mind if I sit next to you later, right?"
Casillas also came over.
"Me too!"
Suker and Casillas exchanged a look.
Let's finish him!
This season, this guy had given them plenty of trouble.
"No problem." Mourinho patted his chest. He glanced at his phone and announced, "Mr. Pérez has booked the venue. Gentlemen, now go wash up. Party time is here!"
Everyone cheered again before heading into the showers to clean up.
In the evening, Real Madrid players, coaching staff, support staff, and executives gathered at a restaurant in downtown Madrid, 'Meson Txistu'.
The restaurant was reservation-only and also Real Madrid's designated venue.
Championship celebrations and various events were held here.
This was Suker's first time at this restaurant.
They should have come here to celebrate last season's title, but it was a World Cup year, so there was no time for a victory party.
When Suker entered the restaurant, the restaurant owner and waiters immediately pointed their cameras at him and started snapping photos.
Under Suker's puzzled gaze, Florentino Pérez came over and personally led Suker to a wall.
This wall was covered with photos of various players, from old black-and-white pictures to color photos.
The players featured on this wall were all core players and captains from Real Madrid's history.
Among them, Suker saw figures like Zidane and Raúl.
"This is the Wall of Honor. Having your photo hung here is a symbol of status." Florentino Pérez smiled and winked. "You and Casillas are going up on this wall at the same time."
This statement undoubtedly indicated that Casillas and Suker would be the two most core players of this generation of Real Madrid.
Although Suker didn't have much emotional reaction, he still put on a very surprised expression on the surface, fully satisfying Old Perez's various needs.
Just as Suker was about to take his seat, Florentino Pérez pulled him again: "Come on, let's go to the private room!"
"Private room?" Suker was surprised.
He still wanted to eat with his teammates.
Florentino Pérez smiled: "It's an internal gathering today, no outsiders."
Suker grinned.
Eating with the executives was also a kind of ordeal.
However, since Florentino Pérez had invited him, Suker couldn't refuse.
The two went to a private room together.
Florentino Pérez pushed the door open and found familiar faces inside.
Zidane, Ronaldo, Figo, Raúl, Hierro, and Casillas. Except for Casillas, the others were all legendary players who had played for Real Madrid.
Seeing Suker, Ronaldo directly pointed to the seat next to him.
Suker immediately walked over and sat down.
Compared to the others, his relationship with Ronaldo was relatively closer.
"You've gained weight again!"
Suker patted Ronaldo's belly and sighed: "For the sake of your health, you should exercise appropriately. Letting go as soon as you retire is not a good habit!"
Ronaldo was already overweight when he played for AC Milan. By the time he returned to the Brazilian league, his physique wasn't even that of a qualified professional player, and now... he was fat as a ball.
Ronaldo had a smile on his face; he didn't mind these comments.
He understood that Suker was also concerned about his health.
"Losing weight isn't easy, but I do exercise appropriately, occasionally playing and such."
Zidane joked nearby: "Can you still run for ten minutes? I don't even dare to pass to you like before."
Ronaldo pouted: "To be honest, Figo passes to me more often than you do. You just like doing spin moves to get past people!"
Figo shrugged: "If I could shoot, I wouldn't pass to you either!"
"That's called the Marseille Turn!" Zidane retorted with a laugh.
Everyone laughed.
Hierro sighed: "Without realizing it, so much time has passed."
Ronaldo also nodded: "Now we're all retired!"
"Our era is over." Zidane also shook his head and sighed.
Suker and Casillas exchanged a look.
Suker spread his hands: "Hey! Do you have to reminisce about the past like old men? Then I really have nothing to talk to you about. Back then, I was still playing in Bosnia or Croatia."
Casillas shrugged: "I was a substitute at the time too!"
Zidane smiled and said to Suker: "I just remembered, your first Champions League group stage match was against us, right?"
"You're too kind!" Suker grinned. "A narrow win against you away!"
Ronaldo also nodded: "I remember that too. I even actively went back to chase him and actually couldn't catch up!"
"Your speed was already past its peak then, but Suker was winning with his speed at that time!"
"Hey! Are you saying I only had speed and no skill?" Suker looked at Figo discontentedly.
Figo also smiled: "But your speed was indeed your strongest weapon at that time."
Suker thought about it; that statement wasn't wrong.
The 20-year-old Suker was the type who relied on speed to charge forward.
"Let's get started." Raúl pointed toward the door. "Mr. Pérez will need a while before he comes over."
With that, Raúl opened a bottle of some unknown brand of foreign liquor.
Everyone stood up, raised their glasses, and cheered happily: "Let's celebrate this glorious season together!"
"Suker, you lead the toast!" Raúl looked at Suker.
Suker took a deep breath: "Real Madrid is—"
"Champions!!!"—
Everyone shouted and downed their glasses in one go.
Just as everyone was about to eat something to cushion their stomachs, Suker picked up the liquor bottle, glug glug glug, poured himself a full glass, and said loudly: "Everyone here is a senior and my idol. I toast to you all!"
With that, Suker downed another glass.
Hearing this, everyone was delighted and joined in.
Suker filled his glass again:
"This glass is to my regret of not experiencing your peak. Come on! Bottoms up!"
Glug! Glug!
Suker drank one glass after another.
At first, Zidane and the others could keep up.
But after a while, they couldn't quite match the pace.
But Suker showed no intention of stopping.
He kept toasting, his manner intimidating everyone.
Ronaldo loved this atmosphere; he also liked the feeling of getting drunk.
So, he accepted every toast and even joined Suker in stirring up the excitement.
Casillas knew his limits; he still needed to celebrate with his teammates.
However, he was glad he had found a good excuse.
Because
After three rounds of drinks
Hic!
Suker hiccuped, turned his head, and looked around.
Ronaldo's head was propped on the table, Hierro looked dazed, Raúl's entire face was red, his eyes dazed, Zidane had drunk a bit less but was still breathing heavily.
"Finished! Wrapping up!"
Suker pursed his lips and exhaled.
Casillas, beside him, was dumbfounded.
He looked at the eight empty liquor bottles on the floor.
In just this short hour, Suker alone had finished four bottles!
The others had shared four bottles, and all of them were completely drunk.
Suker pushed his chair back and stood up. "Let's go, Captain. Time to change venues!"
Casillas was stunned: "Change to what venue?"
Suker pointed outside: "There are several more tables outside waiting for me to drink with!"
Casillas's eyes widened: "You're still going to drink?"
He was afraid Suker would drink himself to death!
Suker scoffed: "This is just the beginning. Let's go, let's go!"
With that, Suker pulled Casillas out of the private room and into the restaurant.
The restaurant was already very lively.
Teammates were clinking glasses; some had even taken off their shirts and were dancing to liven things up, having a great time.
Seeing Suker and Casillas return, they got even more excited.
"Suker! Over here!"
Ramos, his face red, waved to Suker.
Suker immediately walked over.
Seeing Suker approach, Srna silently stood up.
"Where are you going!"
Ramos grabbed Srna.
Srna turned his head and scolded: "Let me go. If you want to die, don't drag me down with you!"
Suker plopped down next to Ramos and pulled Srna back.
Seeing that he couldn't escape, Srna's face turned ashen.
Kaká across from him chuckled; he was glad he was religious and couldn't drink excessively.
At that moment, Casillas sat down next to Kaká.
"Captain?"
Kaká was surprised.
Casillas said devoutly, "I am also a devout—"
"Devout, my ass!"
Suker directly interrupted: "Captain, come over here. You're not getting away tonight."
Casillas pressed his lips together, stood up abruptly, and said, "Who's afraid of who!"
Watching Casillas's back, Kaká felt a sense of tragic heroism.
Suker yelled: "Everyone who's drinking, gather here!"
Immediately, a group of people started gathering around Suker.
Soon, everyone started drinking heavily.
Di María watched from afar, seeing his teammates fall one by one, and then it was his turn.
Uh...
The next morning, dawn.
Di María woke up in bed. He looked left and right, then clutched his head.
His head felt like it was splitting open.
"You're up!"
His wife came over, looking at Di María with concern. "How do you feel?"
"Sick!"
Di María frowned.
His wife sighed: "You drank so much. You were vomiting all night; you even soiled the bedsheet."
Di María looked down and saw there was indeed no bedsheet.
"How did I get back?" Di María asked.
He had no memory at all!
He blacked out!
"Suker carried you back." His wife said with some reproach: "Learn from Suker. He wasn't drunk at all. Don't drink so much when you're happy; it's bad for your health."
He was the one who drank me under the table.
Di María complained inwardly, but his head hurt terribly.
"Let me lie down a bit longer! I can't get up!"
His wife nodded: "Rest. The season is over; you can rest properly for a while."
"Oh, right." His wife said: "Suker told me while walking his dog this morning that the victory parade has been postponed until tomorrow. I don't know what happened."
Di María grinned.
Could it not be postponed?
They were all drunk; probably none of them could get up today.
That beast!
"I need to sleep a bit more!"
Di María felt dizzy and needed more rest.
His wife didn't disturb him further.
Next door, in Suker's villa.
Suker was busy making breakfast in the kitchen. On the sofa, Kaká and Srna were sprawled out, sleeping like the dead.
After an intense match, followed by heavy drinking at night, anyone would be overwhelmed.
But when the breakfast was served, their dog-like noses twitched, and they actually managed to get up.
"Ugh~~~ I feel like dying!" Srna looked utterly haggard.
Kaká wasn't much better.
"Yesterday was the most I've ever drunk!"
Suker glanced at them and said irritably: "So, why did you guys egg them on for no reason?"
"I was egging them on to drink with you." Srna retorted, then turned around and dry-heaved.
Suker pinched his nose in disgust: "If you're going to throw up, go home and do it!"
Srna; "I'll go back after breakfast!"
Kaká worried: "What about today's parade?"
Srna was dazed: "I can't get up! I definitely can't get up!"
Suker: "Don't worry, the parade has been postponed until tomorrow."
Hearing this, Srna gave a thumbs-up: "That's the best news I've heard today."
In Florentino Pérez's estate.
After Florentino Pérez got up, he washed up simply.
Recalling the miserable situation of last night, Florentino Pérez couldn't help but shake his head.
There had always been rumors about Suker's 'alcohol god' status, but in the football world, players generally had good physiques, and many could really drink.
But there was no one like Suker, a monster who never got drunk no matter how much he drank.
It didn't seem like he was drinking alcohol; it was like he was drinking water.
No!
He couldn't even drink that much water!
"The parade has been postponed until tomorrow; it was reported last night. Also, guests like Ronaldo have been arranged to stay in hotels."
The secretary said with a sigh.
Last night was the busiest night.
It was basically running between the hotel and the restaurant, sending everyone home or to a hotel.
To be precise, these guys couldn't even walk; they had to be carried.
The others were okay, but Ronaldo's weight nearly exhausted the hired help.
Florentino Pérez also shook his head with a laugh. He turned and asked: "Any schedule for today?"
"No schedule for today, but..." The secretary flipped through his notes: "Mr. Mourinho has an appointment with you this afternoon."
Hearing this, Florentino Pérez frowned slightly.
What was coming had finally arrived!
Since Mourinho started coaching Real Madrid, he had never given up control over transfer authority.
Previously, when he first joined, he had no status or qualifications.
But now, with the credentials and achievements of a treble, was this guy going to lay his cards on the table?
Florentino Pérez also felt a headache coming on.
He was very satisfied with Mourinho.
If this guy was content with being a head coach, he could fully support Mourinho, given his coaching record was right there.
He could even help mediate in the locker room.
For Florentino Pérez, he needed to stabilize the three parties: Casillas, Suker, and Mourinho.
The palm and the back of the hand are both flesh!
How he wished these three parties could get along harmoniously, and that Mourinho would stop obsessing over transfer authority.
Sigh~~~~
Florentino Pérez sighed.
"I understand!"
That afternoon, Mourinho arrived at Florentino Pérez's estate on time.
Mourinho looked somewhat haggard; he had also been heavily drunk by Suker last night.
That he could even get up was probably agonizing.
However, for the sake of his important matter, he still came to Florentino Pérez's estate.
Although he had washed up, there was still a smell of alcohol on Mourinho.
Even the scent of cologne couldn't cover it.
"Have some hot tea!"
Florentino Pérez said with a smile.
Mourinho nodded. A cup of hot tea made him feel much better.
Mourinho exhaled and looked at Florentino Pérez:
"Mr. Pérez, let's get straight to the point!"
Florentino Pérez nodded.
Mourinho said slowly: "I need your support!"
Hearing this, Florentino Pérez was stunned.
He thought Mourinho would directly bring up the issue of transfer authority, and he was headache over how to evade or delay.
But Mourinho actually said he needed his support!
Mourinho also saw Florentino Pérez's surprised expression.
He smiled inwardly.
He knew very well Florentino Pérez's desire for control over Real Madrid.
If he directly demanded transfer authority, he would most likely be put off with various excuses and ultimately gain nothing.
Therefore, Mourinho took a step back proactively; he needed Florentino Pérez's support to further gain control over the locker room.
When he became the locker room leader, gradually gained some say within Real Madrid's first team and upper management, and then raised this demand again based on results, would it truly take effect.
In other words, Mourinho didn't believe that this treble alone was enough to be a bargaining chip to confront Florentino Pérez!
So he took a step back proactively. Then, Florentino Pérez would support him more vigorously, slowly building up strength.
Mourinho needed to ensure that when he decided to lay his cards on the table and deliver a powerful blow, it must be a fatal strike!