Chapter 100: Record-Breaking Fee! Competing with Real Madrid!
Munich, Germany — Säbener Straße, the headquarters of FC Bayern Munich.
Though the team had yet to regroup due to the ongoing World Cup, the club's office was unusually lively on this day.
Any journalist or fan familiar with Bayern would have been shocked by the sheer scale of what was happening.
Present at the club's headquarters were:
Franz Beckenbauer, Germany's football emperor and chairman of Bayern's supervisory board.Herbert Hainer, chairman of Adidas and Bayern's deputy chairman.Karl-Gerhard Eick, board member of Deutsche Telekom and supervisory board member at Bayern.Dieter Rampl, chairman of HVB Group and member of Bayern's supervisory board.Martin Winterkorn, chairman of Audi Group, also on the board.Helmut Markwort, editor-in-chief of the global media conglomerate Hubert Burda Media.
These were titan-level figures in Germany's manufacturing, finance, telecommunications, and media industries—and when they all gathered at Bayern's HQ, it could only mean one thing:
Something major was about to happen.
They were received at the entrance by Bayern's executive trio:
Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, CEO.Uli Hoeneß, Vice President and General Manager, also Head of Sporting Affairs.Karl Hopfner, Executive Board member and CFO in charge of finance, legal, HR, and retail.
Seeing these two tiers of leadership together underscored just how powerful and deeply connected Bayern truly was.
This wasn't just a football club. It was a powerhouse backed by Germany's industrial elite.
As the group entered the second-floor executive meeting room, everything was already prepped.
The meeting began promptly.
...
The meeting was led by Uli Hoeneß himself, as chairman of the executive committee.
As one of Bayern's most influential figures, Hoeneß was held in the highest regard.
He began by thanking everyone for attending, noting how much their presence showed their love for the club and their commitment to Bayern's football project.
Then came a brief recap of the club's recent season:
A domestic double — Bundesliga and DFB-Pokal.
But for Bayern, that was just routine.
As the saying goes, "If Bayern doesn't win a title, now that's news."
None of the board members were particularly moved.
Their attention was on the material in front of them—a dossier on a single player:
Franck Ribéry.
A name they'd heard non-stop in recent months, especially after the World Cup.
"This, gentlemen," said Hoeneß, "is the world-class signing we've waited years for."
"We thought Ballack would be that man. He gave us hope, he gave us titles—but we couldn't keep him."
"Even after we showed him our future transfer plans, he still chose Chelsea."
Everyone in the room looked somber.
Ballack had been Germany's last true global star.
"And now we've signed Mark van Bommel from Barcelona. Our technical staff believes he can replace Ballack's role in midfield."
"But that alone isn't enough!"
Hoeneß clicked to the next slide on the presentation—an organizational blueprint they'd previously shown to the board.
At its center was a world-class core player.
Everything else—signings, tactics, branding—revolved around that central figure.
In recent years, Ballack had failed to meet that expectation.
To be fair, it wasn't entirely his fault.
Germany's youth development had stumbled, and the next generation of stars—born in the 1990s—was still years away from maturing.
At the same time, Bayern's ability to attract top international talent had diminished.
Why? Because Bundesliga's appeal was limited compared to the Premier League, La Liga, and Serie A.
Deisler had once carried immense expectations—but never recovered from his depression.
"Since 2003, the transfer market has changed dramatically. Chelsea's spending spree has made everything more irrational."
"They've scooped up stars like Robben, Essien, Drogba..."
"We were in for Robben. But he chose the Premier League."
"This season, with Juventus forced to drop a division, we considered Ibrahimović and Vieira—but neither chose the Bundesliga."
"Gentlemen, the truth is: we've lost our pull when it comes to world-class players."
Silence filled the room.
The decline of the Bundesliga was plain to see.
Outside of Bayern, no other German club had serious European clout.
Even Bayern's own competitiveness had waned.
And since Bayern practically ran the league, international fans and players found the Bundesliga… boring.
So, why would any star choose to come?
"But now—a rare opportunity has appeared."
"One that could change Bayern's future. A milestone signing."
On the big screen, an image of Ribéry from the World Cup appeared.
The first thing that came to mind?
He's not pretty.
But damn, he's good.
Anyone who had watched the World Cup knew just how good he was.
"We can't compete with United, Madrid, or Barcelona—not even Arsenal—when it comes to signing players. Just look at Rosický—he chose Arsenal over us."
"But Ribéry doesn't come from a superclub. He comes from Bayswater Chinese FC."
"A club that only just played its first season in the Premier League, and still doesn't even have its own home stadium!"
"He's not like Cristiano Ronaldo, Messi, Robben, or Kaká—he's never played for a major club."
"He was developed entirely at Bayswater."
"And yet, he's already recognized as a top-level talent, on the cusp of global superstardom."
Not fully a "superstar" yet—because he hadn't played for a big club.
Had he done what he did last season at Arsenal or United, he'd already be considered elite.
"Our technical team rates him extremely highly. They believe he's the next great French leader after Zidane."
"A true Ballon d'Or contender."
"A superstar we've waited years for."
From the big clubs? Bayern knew they couldn't win.
But from a newly promoted team with no stadium?
This was their chance.
"I've heard the Premier League's 'Big Four,' Real Madrid, and Inter are all circling him," said Herbert Hainer, head of Adidas—and, as fate would have it, a rival to Bayswater's kit sponsor Puma.
From Bayern's sporting perspective, and from Adidas's corporate interests, Herbert Hainer fully supported signing Franck Ribéry.
"From what we know, Bayswater Chinese FC isn't keen on selling Ribéry to another Premier League club. And honestly, it seems no English club can afford him right now."
"Arsenal got a lump sum after selling Henry, yes—but their financial situation is still shaky."
"Chelsea has the money, but their relationship with Bayswater is awful. There's bad blood over that stadium land dispute—they're basically enemies now."
"Liverpool? Not even worth mentioning."
"Manchester United is focused on strengthening midfield, not the front line. I doubt Ferguson can spend big on Ribéry."
"And Inter? After buying Ibrahimović and Vieira, they've gone quiet. Moratti's funds aren't limitless."
"At this point, our biggest competitor is Real Madrid. They've already submitted a £30 million bid—about €45 million."
Ribéry's value skyrocketed after the World Cup.
Before the tournament, that fee might have sealed the deal.
But after his stunning performances, Bayswater felt it was too low—which is why they hadn't responded yet.
They were waiting. Watching.
To see if any new buyers emerged.
"Our executive board and technical team are in full agreement: this will be a landmark signing in club history. Ribéry can lead Bayern into a full revival."
"So we're asking for the supervisory board's support—to make a formal bid and challenge Real Madrid for him!"
As Uli Hoeneß said those words, his fists clenched.
A long-restrained ambition now burned in his voice.
Real Madrid had been the most dominant club in world football for years.
Everyone said that when Madrid wanted a player, they always got him.
To wear the white of the Bernabéu was every star's dream.
But now, Bayern wanted to make a statement—
That the Bundesliga giant was back.
That the Bayern Munich of old—who swept through Europe—was on the rise again.
This wasn't about slogans or marketing fluff.
It would take real moves—huge signings, real ambition.
More importantly, Bayern's return would uplift the entire Bundesliga.
As the league's flagship club, Bayern had always felt this responsibility.
"What's our current financial status?" asked Dieter Rampl, looking toward CFO Karl Hopfner.
"Since winning the Champions League in 2001," Hopfner said, "aside from Makaay and Lúcio, we haven't made a single signing with an eight-figure fee. So financially, we're very healthy. Competing for Ribéry isn't a problem."
"Also," he added, "we're considering selling Hargreaves to Manchester United to recoup some funds."
The Bayern board had been stockpiling cash—waiting for a signature signing like this.
If they landed Ribéry, they would follow it up with a series of supporting transfers, building a team that could once again compete at the highest level in Europe.
"Then let's do it—challenge Real Madrid head-on!" roared Franz Beckenbauer.
Other board members nodded in agreement, voices rising in support.
Rummenigge, Hoeneß, and the others felt their blood surge.
After years of relative silence, Bayern Munich was finally ready to awaken.
...
Yang Cheng had no idea what was happening far away in Munich.
Right now, he had two matters in front of him.
One was good.
While most players were still enjoying the World Cup afterglow, Edin Džeko had returned to the club early.
He'd requested to start intensive physical training, aiming to improve his strength and muscle mass.
He wanted to be ready to fight for the starting striker spot in the new season.
Clearly, the second half of last season had shown Džeko a glimpse of what was possible.
And Yang Cheng was thrilled to see that hunger.
He fully backed him.
Fitness coach Sade Forsythe designed a specialized program for Džeko—building muscle mass, enhancing core strength, improving contact balance.
All essential for a dominant No.9.
Then came the bad news.
Newcastle United had submitted a transfer offer:
£5 million for Danish midfielder Leon Andreasen.
Just as Yang Cheng was preparing to reject it, he got a call from the player's agent.
Andreasen wanted to leave.
Why?
He felt he'd be nothing more than Yaya Touré's backup if he stayed.
At Newcastle, he'd be closer to home—and had been promised a starting role.
Yang Cheng was torn.
...
Why had Yang Cheng always resisted building a bloated squad?
Because he wanted every player to get meaningful minutes.
He wanted everyone to contribute, to improve, to grow.
Not just because the squad was young.
That philosophy had worked elsewhere too.
A big squad wasn't always a good thing.
Just look at Chelsea.
Why did William Gallas demand to leave Stamford Bridge?
Because he felt mistreated.
Terry and Carvalho held the center-back spots. Gallas was forced to play full-back.
It frustrated him—and he walked.
There's a saying in business:
"People leave for one of two reasons: not enough money, or not enough respect."
Yang Cheng prided himself on being fair.
Aside from ultra-young prospects like Bale and Walcott (born in '89) who mostly played in the reserves, almost everyone in the first team got regular minutes.
Even Blaise Matuidi, born in '87, had seen a lot of action and improved significantly.
Let alone Andreasen.
The Danish midfielder had been excellent last season.
He could play as a defensive mid or even a center-back.
Especially when Yaya Touré was away for the African Cup of Nations, Andreasen had carried the team across both the Premier League and League Cup—earning widespread praise.
At 23, with performances like that, he'd proven himself.
But that's how things go.
Once players reach a certain level, they stop being content.
They want more.
From a player's perspective, that's a good thing.
From the club's perspective, it's a dilemma.
Andreasen believed he could start for a top-half Premier League side.
Last season proved it.
Newcastle had finished 8th. A traditional English powerhouse.
So now came the decision:
Stay at Bayswater, play Champions League, and remain in a rotation role behind Yaya?
Or move to the Magpies, be a starter, and earn more?
Both had their pros and cons.
After all, Bayswater played in Europe—Newcastle didn't.
But Andreasen had made his choice.
He was leaving.
And now Yang Cheng faced the real problem.
Don't sell?
That could poison the locker room.
Force a player to stay, and maybe he sulks, underperforms, tanks his value.
Sell?
But then... who replaces him?
There's a saying:
"Finding a top-class starter is hard—finding a reliable backup is even harder."
And decisions like this?
Only Yang Cheng could make them.
In the meeting room, all of Bayswater Chinese FC's top executives turned to look at Yang Cheng.
Everyone could feel the weight of the decision on his shoulders.
If he got this wrong, it could derail the entire season.
Winter transfer window?
That would just be paying a premium out of desperation.
"Are we certain Wenger isn't signing a new striker after selling Henry?" Yang Cheng asked Mike Rigg.
"Absolutely. Arsenal's funds are tight right now," Rigg replied.
Yang Cheng knew Arsenal didn't have money to burn.
In his past life, Henry had left for Barcelona in 2007.
But this time, after failing to qualify for the Champions League, he'd left a year earlier.
It was said Henry had made his decision immediately after the Champions League final.
Which meant Arsenal would go into the new season with Adebayor and Van Persie, both 23, as their primary strikers.
Their midfield was also shockingly young.
Besides 29-year-old Gilberto Silva, the rest had all undergone a full youth transition.
Fabregas, just 19, had long been the team's core.
This season, they'd signed 18-year-old Denilson.
Then there were Alex Song (18), Diaby (20), and the oldest—Flamini (22).
Flamini was a funny case. He always exploded in contract years, only to fade after signing.
In fact, his entire career consisted of free transfers.
Genius? Opportunist? Who could say?
And it wasn't just the midfield.
In defense, Clichy (21) and Senderos (22) were already veterans.
Then there were kids like Djourou (19), Traoré (16), Gibbs (16), and K. Gilbert (19)—all being groomed as future starters.
Sometimes Yang Cheng genuinely felt bad for Wenger.
But then again, in his past life, Wenger took this ragtag bunch and still made top four.
So why couldn't he do the same?
Most of Bayswater's players were also around 20, but with more talent and potential.
What was there to worry about?
With that, Yang Cheng made up his mind.
"Send a fax to Newcastle. Tell them £7 million and Andreasen is theirs."
He said it directly to Adam Crozier.
That was the number in his head. Take it or leave it.
"Understood," Crozier nodded. "And what about Madrid's bid for Ribéry?"
"Keep stalling Mijatović. Let's see if Inter makes a move," Yang Cheng said.
Inter Milan had been eyeing Ribéry for a while and were still in contact.
As for Arsenal?
Yang Cheng could only laugh.
Wenger had once said, "If you ever decide to sell Ribéry, give me a call."
Well, Yang Cheng did call.
And told him Real Madrid had offered £30 million.
Wenger went completely silent.
Knowing Wenger, he'd never spend that kind of money.
On the other hand, Massimo Moratti—fresh off the Calciopoli scandal—had big ambitions for Inter.
He wanted to win the Champions League and reignite the glory of Grande Inter.
Ironically, since Yang Cheng had hijacked the Maicon deal, Inter had gone quiet.
Maybe Zanetti was still going strong, so they weren't too desperate.
...
"Mike, I need you to head to Serbia," Yang Cheng said after the meeting, pulling Rigg aside.
"Serbia?" Rigg blinked in surprise.
He had just returned from South America—now this?
"About 50 kilometers south of Belgrade, there's a town called Lazarevac," Yang Cheng began.
"North of Lazarevac is a small football club called Kolubara. Easy to find. I need you to buy me a player there—Nemanja Matić."
"If my intel is correct, Matić hasn't signed a pro contract. Kolubara plays in Serbia's third tier. Just reach out and bring him back."
Why did Yang Cheng know this?
Because in his past life, he'd taken a team to Kolubara for a friendly—a match arranged by Matić himself.
He'd even visited Matić's hometown of Ub, about 20 km west of Lazarevac.
But there was no need to go into all that.
Let Mike Rigg discover it for himself.
"Serbian players don't have EU clearance yet. Is he capped?" Rigg asked.
Yang Cheng shook his head.
"He's only 18. Hasn't even played professionally yet."
Rigg frowned.
Then how could he play in the Premier League?
"But he has Slovak nationality," Yang Cheng added.
Rigg's eyes lit up.
As for how Matić had both Serbian and Slovak citizenship, even Yang Cheng wasn't sure.
"Oh—and he's an attacking midfielder," Yang Cheng added casually.
"Attacking…?"
Rigg nearly choked.
Weren't they looking for a defensive midfielder to replace Andreasen?
Now they were buying a No.10?
Yang Cheng chuckled.
It was hard to explain.
Matić's career had been full of twists and turns.
His father had been a footballer—strict, disciplined.
By age five, Matić was already training at his father's club Valjevo, in a small town just north of Ub.
Next to the pitch? A graveyard.
After Matić rose to fame, the stadium was renamed Matić Training Center.
In 1997, when he was nine, he was spotted by Obrenovac 1905, Serbia's best academy at the time.
He played in the national youth championships—and won.
His performances there got him scouted by the capital's two giants: Red Star and Partizan.
He chose Red Star Belgrade.
But after four years there, he was released due to poor performances—so he joined Partizan.
He only lasted a few months there before being cut again.
He returned to Ub and joined the youth team at Jedinstvo.
After just a year, in 2005, he moved to Kolubara, a third-tier club near Lazarevac.
In Yang Cheng's past life, he moved to Slovakia's Košice in January 2007.
From there, he transferred to Chelsea.
Matić had originally been a No.10—with great passing and ball control.
At 1.94 meters, he also had a formidable frame, giving him an edge in physical duels.
But with that size came problems.
As he played more high-intensity matches, his mobility and speed became glaring issues.
Same thing happened to Pirlo at Inter—he was too slow for an attacking role.
That's why at Chelsea, Matić was never valued.
Chelsea's youth system at the time was deeply flawed.
They signed tons of talent—but never gave them chances.
Most were loaned out.
Matić was no exception.
He ended up at Vitesse in the Netherlands.
In 2011, after a strong season there, he was included in the deal that brought David Luiz to Chelsea.
Matić was sold to Benfica.
It was there that coach Jorge Jesus changed his life—by moving him from No.10 to defensive mid.
And the rest, as they say...
Was history.
From Bayern's perspective, both competitively and commercially—especially for Adidas—signing Franck Ribéry made perfect sense.
"As far as we know," said Herbert Hainer, "Bayswater Chinese FC doesn't want to sell Ribéry within the Premier League. And honestly, no English club can afford him right now."
"Arsenal may have gotten a windfall after selling Henry, but their financial situation is shaky."
"Chelsea has the money, but they're sworn enemies with Bayswater over that stadium land feud—relations are icy."
"Liverpool? Out of the picture."
"United is focused on midfield, not the front line. I doubt Ferguson will blow the budget on Ribéry."
"As for Inter, they just signed Ibrahimović and Vieira. Moratti is ambitious, but his wallet isn't bottomless."
"That leaves just one major rival—Real Madrid. They've already offered £30 million, which is about €45 million."
Ribéry's value had skyrocketed after the World Cup.
Before the tournament, that price might've sealed the deal.
But now?
Bayswater felt it was too low.
They were waiting. Watching. Seeing if someone would go higher.
Hoeneß leaned forward.
"Our executive board and technical team agree—this could be a defining signing in club history. Ribéry could lead Bayern's full resurgence."
"We want your approval to enter the race—to go toe-to-toe with Real Madrid."
His fists clenched. His eyes gleamed.
This wasn't just a transfer—it was a statement.
For years, people said:
If Real Madrid wants a player, they get him.
Bayern wanted to change that narrative.
They wanted to tell the world:
Germany's giant is back.
This couldn't be just talk. It required a superstar—someone who would reignite global respect.
And with Ribéry, Bayern could also reinvigorate the entire Bundesliga.
"What's our financial position?" asked Dieter Rampl, turning to CFO Karl Hopfner.
"Since 2001, aside from Makaay and Lúcio, we haven't spent eight figures on any single player. Financially, we're in excellent shape. Signing Ribéry won't be an issue."
"And we're planning to sell Hargreaves to Manchester United to recoup funds," he added.
Bayern had been saving for this moment.
After Ribéry, there would be more signings to build a team that could dominate Europe.
"Then let's do it—let's battle Madrid head-on!" Beckenbauer declared.
The board erupted in support.
It was time.
After years of stagnation, Bayern Munich was ready to roar again.
...
Yang Cheng had no idea this was happening in Munich.
Right now, he was dealing with two new developments.
One good. One bad.
The good:
Edin Džeko had returned to training early—before the rest of the squad—and personally requested to begin intensive strength training.
He wanted to build muscle. Get stronger.
He wanted to compete for the starting striker role this season.
Yang Cheng was thrilled.
Džeko had glimpsed his own potential in the second half of last season. Now he wanted more.
And Yang Cheng would support him all the way.
Fitness coach Sade Forsythe crafted a custom program—focusing on strength, explosiveness, and core stability. All key for a modern No. 9.
The bad:
Newcastle United had faxed an official bid—£5 million for Leon Andreasen.
Yang Cheng was ready to reject it.
Then he got a call from the player's agent.
Andreasen wanted to leave.
His reason?
He didn't want to be Yaya Touré's backup.
At Newcastle, he'd be closer to home, and they promised him a starting spot.
Yang Cheng understood—but it still put him in a tight spot.
...
Why did Yang Cheng never believe in massive squads?
Because he wanted every player to play.
Young or not, everyone deserved time on the pitch—real minutes, real growth.
It wasn't just sentiment.
Look at Chelsea.
Why did William Gallas want to leave?
Because he felt disrespected.
Terry and Carvalho hogged the center-back spots. Gallas was forced to play out wide.
He didn't want that—so he left.
There's a saying in business:
People leave for two reasons—money, or respect.
Yang Cheng tried to offer both.
Bale, Walcott—born in '89—mostly played in the reserves.
But everyone else got minutes.
Even Matuidi, just 19, played often—and grew quickly.
Andreasen? He was excellent.
Capable at DM or CB.
When Yaya was away at AFCON, Andreasen held the fort, leading Bayswater through league and cup matches.
At 23, with that résumé? He had a case.
Now he believed he could start for any mid-to-top Premier League side.
Newcastle had finished 8th. They were a respected club.
So now the question was simple:
Stay and rotate behind Yaya, playing in the Champions League?
Or
Leave, earn more, and start every week?
Andreasen had chosen.
He was leaving.
And now Yang Cheng had to answer the real question:
Sell him—then what?
Good backups were harder to find than good starters.
Only Yang Cheng could make this call.
...
In that meeting, all eyes turned to him.
He took a breath.
"Fax Newcastle. Tell them £7 million. That's the price."
Crozier nodded.
"And Real Madrid?"
"Keep stalling Mijatović. See if Inter jumps in."
...
After the meeting, Yang Cheng pulled Mike Rigg aside.
"Mike, I need you to head to Serbia."
"Serbia?" Rigg blinked.
He'd just gotten back from South America.
"There's a town about 50 km south of Belgrade. Lazarevac."
"North of that town is a small club—Kolubara."
"There's a kid there I want: Nemanja Matić."
"No pro contract. Third division. Should be easy. Just go get him."
Why did Yang Cheng know this?
Because in his past life, he'd played a friendly against Kolubara—arranged by Matić himself.
He'd even visited Matić's family home in Ub, a town 20 km west of Lazarevac.
No need to explain all that now.
Let Rigg figure it out.
"He's not capped yet?" Rigg asked.
"Nope. Just 18. No pro matches."
"Then how do we get him into the Premier League?"
"He has Slovak nationality."
Rigg's eyes lit up.
"Oh, and Mike—he's an attacking midfielder."
"What?" Rigg almost dropped his notebook.
Weren't they replacing Andreasen?
Why sign a No. 10?
Yang Cheng just smiled.
...
Nemanja Matić's early career had been anything but smooth.
He was raised by a strict footballer father and trained from age 5 at a tiny hometown club—next to a cemetery.
He moved through multiple academies—Red Star, Partizan—but never stuck.
Eventually, he wound up at Kolubara.
In Yang Cheng's past life, he moved to Košice in Slovakia in 2007, then on to Chelsea.
A natural No. 10, Matić had great passing and footwork.
But at 1.94 meters, he was a physical beast—and slow.
The bigger the matches, the more exposed his lack of agility became.
It was the Pirlo-at-Inter problem.
At Chelsea, he was undervalued and loaned out—eventually traded to Benfica.
It was there that Jorge Jesus pulled him back, retrained him as a defensive midfielder.
And that—
changed everything.
Real Madrid's offer came with several strict conditions—including one that required Ribéry to win the Ballon d'Or.
All the clauses added up to a maximum of £40 million.
Bayern Munich, on the other hand, offered far more favorable terms.
Their only stipulations were related to appearances—nothing Ribéry couldn't easily achieve.
Moreover, Madrid's payment plan spanned five years.
Bayern?
Three years, fully paid.
On top of that, Bayern showed genuine sincerity—with both Rummenigge and Hoeneß flying to France to meet Ribéry and his agent in person, laying out Bayern's vision for the future.
And they won him over.
Yes, Madrid was more glamorous.
But the Galácticos had been in turmoil for years—no one knew how long the chaos would continue.
Bayern, by contrast, were clear, hungry, and full of ambition.
Once Ribéry made his decision, Bayswater Chinese FC gave their blessing.
The Frenchman completed a blockbuster transfer:
£40 million (€60 million) to Bayern Munich.
A record fee for both the Premier League and German football.
...
When news broke of Ribéry's move to Bayern, reactions came swiftly.
At Chelsea's training ground in north London, José Mourinho stood by his office window, silently watching the skyline for an entire afternoon.
At Carrington, United boss Sir Alex Ferguson took to the pitch himself, personally running training—and driving his players into the ground.
No one understood why the old Scot was in such a fiery mood.
At Colney, Arsenal manager Arsène Wenger sat in his office and exhaled deeply, as if a weight had lifted from his chest.
"Yes, it's a shame we didn't sign Ribéry," he admitted.
"But Bayswater just lost their best player. This is our chance."
"This season—we're taking back our spot in the top four!"
Wenger pounded his desk.
He was back in the mood.
...
Due to the World Cup, Yang Cheng had given all participating players extended leave.
Each player returned to training on a different schedule.
Some—like Džeko—came back early in late June for extra conditioning.
Most returned just days before training camp began.
The team's preseason, as usual, focused on fitness.
Few Bayswater players had gone deep into the World Cup.
With Ribéry gone, only Lassana Diarra remained from the team that reached the final—and he hadn't played a minute.
Still, Yang Cheng gave him and Ribéry (prior to the transfer) an extra week off.
On July 10, the first team regrouped.
The club's new signings also reported for duty.
Bayswater had sold three players:
Ribéry, Roger Johansen, and Leon Andreasen.
They had signed five:
Pepe, Marcelo, Di María, Matić, and Lewandowski.
The first team now had 25 players.
Oldest? Backup keeper Danny Coyne, 33.
Youngest? Gareth Bale, who wouldn't turn 17 until July 16.
Seven players were under 20.
Average age: 21.32 (up from 20.95 last season).
The club was maturing.
Yes, Ribéry was gone. But Arshavin had already arrived in the winter.
And with players growing and improving, Yang Cheng believed the team wouldn't be weaker than last year.
This season, the focus would be on the Premier League and Champions League.
The FA Cup and League Cup would be left to the younger players.
During preseason, Yang Cheng made tactical adjustments.
First and foremost:
More responsibility for Džeko.
After weeks of strength and conditioning, the 20-year-old Bosnian striker looked stronger, sharper.
Yang Cheng reshaped the attack around him.
He also gave Džeko and Lambert greater tactical freedom—as free-roaming forwards.
Push up. Drift wide. Drop deep.
Whatever the moment required.
Arshavin, unlike Ribéry, wasn't a possession-heavy wide playmaker.
He was a second striker at heart—quicker, sharper, a better finisher.
Yang Cheng's new idea?
Džeko at the center, with Arshavin and Ashley Young rotating across both flanks.
A fluid front three.
Midfield remained focused on vertical play:
Yaya Touré was given license to make late runs.Modrić still orchestrated possession.Lassana Diarra continued to cover ground and break up play.
In defense, the full-backs were encouraged to bomb forward.
With Arshavin and Young cutting inside, the flanks were left to overlapping full-backs.
The team's overall strategy?
Multi-channel rapid advancement.
Short-range combinations. Interchanging. Positional fluidity.
A high-octane attack layered with late runners.
After two years together, Yang Cheng believed in this group.
The core of the squad hadn't changed since he'd taken over three years ago.
Especially in midfield.
Yang Cheng had spent big to keep them together.
Modrić and Yaya Touré were both on £20,000/week—top earners.
Lassana Diarra wasn't far behind, at £15,000/week.
The salaries spoke volumes about how much Yang Cheng valued his midfield.
...
After camp began on July 10, the team scheduled two friendlies:
July 19 vs Crystal Palace (3–3 draw)July 23 vs QPR (2–0 win)
The second match was special.
A farewell to Loftus Road.
From this season forward, Bayswater Chinese FC would play at Wembley.
QPR fans watched with a mix of admiration and envy.
Their old rivals were now Premier League runners-up and UEFA Cup champions.
And QPR?
Barely escaped relegation last year.
After the match, many QPR fans switched allegiances—buying season tickets for Wembley.
After the farewell match, Yang Cheng led the squad out of London.
Next stop?
Hong Kong.
Bayswater Chinese FC was embarking on its first-ever China tour.
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