He pointed to individual players as he spoke.
"Marco, I know you're going to Dubai. Enjoy the sun, but don't forget your running shoes. Robert, you're going back to Poland. I don't care how good your grandmother's pierogi are, you stick to your diet. Mats, you're staying in Germany. Use the time wisely. Train smart, not just hard."
His gaze fell on Mateo, and for a moment, their eyes met. "And Mateo," he said, his voice softening slightly. "You're going home to Barcelona. I know what that means to you. Enjoy every moment with your family. But remember, you're not just Mateo anymore. You're Der Maestro. And maestros don't take breaks from their craft."
Mateo nodded, understanding the weight of Klopp's words. He felt the eyes of his teammates on him, felt the responsibility that came with his reputation, his status within the team.
