"All right, guys, well done, but now sit for a second."
Xabi Alonso's voice cut through the low chatter as he leaned against the tactics board, one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing toward the front of the room.
The players quieted naturally, some downing whole water bottles as they sat down, with Xabi's assistant turning up the AC in the dressing room, after more and more players took their shirts off.
Real Madrid led by a single goal, but they knew it could've been more.
He looked around the room first, scanning the faces, reading the mood, before locking eyes with Vinícius and Mbappé, who sat a couple of seats apart.
"You two," he began, tone even, calm but sharp enough to slice through the air.
"We're wasting too many of the balls the midfield is working for. Luka, Jude, Valverde, they're running themselves into the ground to get it to you, and we're not finishing the job."
