It was a sunny Monday morning in Santa Cruz when Ricardo León officially wrapped up his time at CD Tenerife. As the club captain, he had been a beacon of loyalty through countless Segunda battles, but now he was ready for a new adventure abroad. Although Braga's offer of €1.3 million fell short of what Tenerife had hoped for, Mauro Pérez decided to accept it, understanding León's age and the years he had dedicated to the club.
Laurence González, the head coach, didn't put up a fight. It felt like the right move. León had played a crucial role in solidifying Tenerife's midfield during their promotion push, but both he and Mauro recognized the truth: the past had served its time. The club was entering a new chapter, and nostalgia couldn't hold back progress.
Mauro, Tenerife's sporting director, jumped straight into scouting. Finding a replacement for León wasn't just about filling a void—it was about redefining the team's identity. While Tenerife had managed to stay afloat in La Liga with their high-energy pressing style, they needed a stronger backbone to truly secure their position. They were on the lookout for someone young, adaptable, and tenacious.
In his office, Mauro spent countless hours sifting through old footage, reports, and clips from lesser-known youth tournaments. He revisited trial videos, some so grainy it was tough to tell players apart from mere shadows. He had always believed that the transfer market favored those who explored the overlooked rejects.
That's when he came across a shaky video file labeled "SM Caen #17."
The footage was shaky, the camera bouncing around, and the field was a frosty mess. But right in the middle, one player caught his eye.
A little guy in blue, always on the move. Breaking up passes, chasing after balls he had no business going for. Snatching possession, spinning away from defenders, and making quick, simple passes. He was never standing still.
Mauro leaned in closer, completely focused. The overlay flashed a name and some basic info: Ngolo Kanté – Age 19. Height 1.68m. Club: Boulogne.
The stats weren't anything to write home about—no goals, no assists—but another column told a different story: duels won, interceptions, kilometres covered. These numbers hinted at energy, awareness, and sheer determination.
Mauro didn't bother calling Laurence or anyone else. It felt like a gut decision. Boulogne had put a price tag of €400,000 on the player—a drop in the bucket in today's football world. Without hesitation, Mauro shot off an offer, emailing Kanté's agent with a proposed salary: €7,000 a week, plus bonuses for appearances and performance, a four-year contract, and a promise of first-team play.
It was a risk, but a low-stakes one. If Kanté didn't pan out, Tenerife could easily move on. But if he did, the payoff could be huge.
Meanwhile, over in another part of Santa Cruz, Laurence was going over his tactical notes. Pre-season was just around the corner, and even though the squad looked solid on paper, something felt off.
Casemiro was the enforcer. Kitoko was the tireless runner. Natalio, Neymar, and young Joel brought the attacking flair. But they were missing that unpredictability—the spark that could send defenses into a frenzy. Tenerife's style had structure, discipline, and pressing intensity, but it lacked that touch of intelligent chaos that could turn a game on its head.
Laurence found his thoughts wandering to a player he had once admired, both in awe and with a hint of frustration: Ricardo Quaresma.
The Portuguese winger, once seen as the next big thing after Figo, had faded from the limelight. At 26, he was playing for Beşiktaş, still capable of moments of brilliance but also still prone to inconsistency. His outside-foot crosses were still a threat, and his dribbling remained bold. But that elusive consistency had always eluded him.
Laurence was aware that most clubs had given up on him. Yet, as he watched some recent highlights, he noticed something intriguing: here was a player who was unwanted, affordable, and still had the ability to surprise. Tenerife couldn't match the financial power of Spain's top teams; they needed to find opportunities in the risks they took.
He circled Quaresma's name in his notebook. Not as a guaranteed starter, but as a wildcard. A potential short-term spark.
_______
The next day, Laurence sat stiffly at his office desk, frowning at a printed document. Across from him, Victor, his assistant, leaned against the window frame, trying to keep quiet.
"So," Laurence said, still focused on the paper. "We've signed Ngolo Kanté."
Victor shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. Mauro took care of it."
Laurence's eyes narrowed. "Without even running it by me?"
"You were busy. It all happened pretty fast," Victor explained. "Mauro said it was a minor deal."
Laurence let out a sharp breath and stood up from his chair. "Minor deals don't mean no communication. I step away for a week, and suddenly we're handing out contracts?"
Minutes later, Mauro arrived, as calm as ever, and took a seat across from Laurence.
Laurence didn't mince words. "You signed a player without giving me a heads-up."
"Yes," Mauro replied, keeping his tone steady. "Ngolo Kanté. Four hundred thousand from Boulogne. I've seen enough to back my decision."
"That's not how we operate," Laurence shot back. "This is a team effort. You need to consult the head coach before bringing someone into his locker room."
Mauro's face remained unchanged. "I get that. But I'm the sporting director. My role is to identify talent, and when I see it, I act. Kanté has the drive, the work ethic, and the right mindset. Sure, he's a bit raw, but he adds depth—and you've mentioned that the squad needs it."
Laurence leaned on the desk, frustration evident. "And what if he doesn't fit my system?"
"Then you don't play him," Mauro said matter-of-factly. "We've spent more to get Joel who was almost unnoticed in La Masia. This is a minor risk. If it doesn't work out, no big deal. But if it does, you'll have a player who can reclaim the ball when others can't. I didn't need your go-ahead to make that move."
Victor stepped in, hands raised. "Okay, the deal's done. Let's see how the kid performs in pre-season before making any decisions."
Laurence let out a frustrated breath and stood up. "Small deals still require communication. I take a week off, and suddenly we're handing out contracts?"
Laurence didn't mince words. "You signed a player without giving me a heads-up." He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Look, Mauro, next time just keep me in the loop. I'm not asking for veto power—just a little mutual respect."
Mauro nodded curtly. "Got it."
The tension eased, leaving the three men in a brief silence. Then Laurence tapped his tablet, bringing up a profile on the office monitor.
Ricardo Quaresma.
Victor frowned. "Seriously?"
Mauro blinked in surprise. "Quaresma?"
Laurence confirmed with a nod. "He's on Beşiktaş's offload list. The Turkish papers say they want him gone. Sure, he's inconsistent, but for a low fee? It could be worth it."
Mauro crossed his arms. "He's a risk. Thirty years old. His prime is behind him."
"And that's why he's affordable," Laurence shot back. "We've got Neymar and Joel, but Joel's still learning the ropes, and Neymar can't shoulder the creative burden every game. If Natalio moves centrally, we'll be thin on the wings. One injury, and we're in trouble."
Victor tilted his head. "So, you're saying he's just a temporary fix?"
"Exactly," Laurence replied. "Not a long-term solution, just a tool. Someone who can come off the bench, shake things up, and keep defenders on their toes. He doesn't need to be our star player."
Mauro tapped the desk, deep in thought. "And if it doesn't work out?"
"Then that's on me," Laurence said matter-of-factly. "But if it does work, we'll have a player who can turn a game around in a heartbeat. Sometimes, that's a risk worth taking."