Chapter 79: Champions League Goal? Let's Aim for the Semis First
Rewind the clock 30 seconds.
"Leon is advancing with the ball—through pass! Beautiful! Ronaldo chases it down, cuts inside… passes to Benzema! Shot—GOAL! What a clinical finish! Benzema—"
"Beautiful—!!! Beautiful—!!!"
Duan Xuan had just finished delivering a passionate commentary of the entire play and was about to continue with some well-earned praise for Leon when Xu Yang's sudden burst of excitement completely drowned him out.
By the time Xu Yang finished his shout, Duan scrambled to regain the mic, fearing Xu Yang might derail the commentary again.
"Ronaldo's movement and final pass, Benzema's timing and shot—both brilliant! But let's not forget, this whole counterattack started because Leon won the ball and immediately pushed forward! His through pass was not just perfect, it was timed to perfection! I'd say Leon deserves at least 40% of the credit for this goal!"
"Absolutely! His interception against Eriksen was key, and he didn't delay even for a second in launching the counterattack. He grasped the rhythm and timing perfectly!"
The two commentators took turns showering Leon with praise.
And inside the Santiago Bernabéu, more than 70,000 Real Madrid fans broke into cheers that had only just started to settle down.
This round of applause was for Ronaldo and Benzema, of course.
But also very clearly—for Leon.
For Christian Eriksen, though, that applause felt more like thunderous mockery.
He clenched his jaw and walked quickly back to his half, visibly rattled.
At 19 years old, Eriksen wasn't as hot-blooded as the likes of Kovačić, whom Leon had thoroughly outclassed the previous round.
Nor was he as stubborn. Kovačić had repeatedly tried to dribble at Leon, even after getting stuffed over and over again.
Eriksen, after being so completely stripped of possession once, already realized just how difficult it was to go one-on-one with Leon.
But he was calm, composed.
After the embarrassment faded, Eriksen wisely chose to avoid direct contact with Leon whenever possible.
Physical duels? Not his strength.
Leon's tackling speed was brutal. Eriksen decided it was best not to charge too far into Madrid's territory.
So when play resumed, Leon noticed that Eriksen was now focusing more on distribution—dictating Ajax's buildup from deeper positions.
He wasn't pressing the halfway line anymore, and as a result, Leon also held back. With his defensive responsibilities in mind, it would've been reckless to overcommit forward just to cause chaos.
That calculated restraint let Ajax regain some control of midfield.
But Mourinho? He wasn't having it.
After watching for a bit, he gestured to Callejón, asking him to drop back into the right central midfield position.
Then he gave new instructions to Leon:
"Break into their midfield and defensive zones!"
That single adjustment gave Frank de Boer a splitting headache.
Leon had previously stayed deeper to focus on midfield shielding. Now, with Callejón filling in defensively, Leon had the freedom to push up again—and that meant Eriksen was once again in his crosshairs.
It was textbook advanced holding midfielder tactics, and the key was that Callejón wasn't just a warm body in midfield—he could actually defend.
No wonder coaches loved utility players.
Callejón could attack as a winger, defend like a midfielder, maybe even cover as a fullback if needed.
He wasn't the most naturally gifted, but he did everything well enough—which, for Mourinho, was perfect.
With Di María on the left, Callejón on the right, Alonso behind—Leon was in his comfort zone.
He bombed forward gleefully, once again racing into Ajax territory.
Eriksen saw him coming and flinched.
Leon's approach was clearly targeted. Eriksen felt the pressure immediately.
His passes got quicker.
Actually, all of Ajax began moving the ball faster in their own half.
Benzema drifted wide, clearing space in the central channel for Leon to roam freely.
He and Ronaldo took up flanking positions, closing in to cut off Ajax's passing lanes.
Callejón and Di María hovered just behind, ready to pounce on second balls.
This coordinated high press forced Ajax into rushed long balls.
Their forwards—Sigþórsson and Bulykin—were both tall and physical. In theory, they should have dominated in the air.
But not with Sergio Ramos patrolling the back line.
Despite standing their ground, neither Ajax striker could win the ball cleanly.
Ramos's aggression and timing neutralized the height advantage.
And even when they did get a touch, Alonso and Callejón swooped in for the scraps.
Another turnover.
Alonso grabbed it.
And that meant Madrid's counterattack didn't need a long build-up. It was already in motion.
With Ronaldo and Benzema on the wings—both with elite ball control and lightning speed—Madrid's transitions became lethal.
Don't underestimate Benzema's mobility back then. He hadn't bulked up yet—he was fast, and he could play wide when needed.
From the 12th minute onward, Madrid unleashed wave after wave of rapid counterattacks.
No matter who got the ball—Ronaldo or Benzema—they drove forward instantly.
And in the center?
Leon, constantly roaming, was the perfect support link.
Benzema started to find his rhythm.
In the 19th minute, Alonso found him again with a beautiful long ball.
Ajax's right wingback Anita was slow to track back.
Benzema killed the ball with his first touch, looked up, and launched himself down the flank.
Vertonghen was fast—but made a poor decision, tucking inside to block the cut.
That gave Benzema a clean lane on the outside.
This was the downside of using a back three.
When your wingbacks are slow to return, the three center-backs become exposed, forced to deal with both the wide and central threats.
Vertonghen realized too late. He scrambled back to cover, but Benzema already had momentum.
Still, Vertonghen pressured well—cutting down Benzema's space.
But Benzema wasn't alone.
Leon was right there, holding his position, always in support.
As soon as Vertonghen closed in, Benzema passed laterally to Leon.
Leon looked up—saw Ronaldo making a diagonal run—and shaped his body as if to send it into the box.
Vertonghen and Alderweireld both adjusted—ready to collapse on Ronaldo.
Then Leon passed in the opposite direction.
Back to Benzema, who had quietly cut inside again.
Another misdirection pass.
Another brilliant feint.
This was the second time Leon had pulled off this "look one way, pass the other" move—and both times, it created real danger.
Both Ajax center-backs fell for it.
Benzema received, breezed into the box. If it were Ronaldo, he would've shot already—even from the tight angle.
But Benzema?
He adjusted, looked up—and slotted home with precision.
Benzema, perhaps not feeling completely confident, chose not to shoot. Instead, he drilled a low, powerful pass across the face of goal.
Waiting at the far post, having just shaken off Siem de Jong, was Ronaldo. And this time, there was nothing "joyful" about it—he calmly slotted the ball into the near bottom corner with his left foot.
From the moment Alonso started that long ball to the goal? Only twelve seconds had passed.
Alonso, Benzema, Leon, and Ronaldo—each touch was clean, efficient, and most importantly, precise.
It was a model counterattack: slick, ruthless, and beautiful. The Santiago Bernabéu roared in appreciation.
Under that tidal wave of cheers, Mourinho clenched his fists and beamed, applauding his players with visible satisfaction.
And the journalists who'd come to the Bernabéu tonight hoping to stir controversy could only sigh, heads down, and start typing out articles filled with reluctant praise for both Leon and Real Madrid's collective performance.
Leon once again made his trademark shrug-and-head-tilt gesture before jogging over to join Ronaldo and Benzema in the celebration.
By now, even the slowest fans understood: Leon was going all-in on this counterattacking masterclass.
He hadn't picked up a goal or an assist in either of Madrid's two goals, but his role was unmistakably vital.
His vision, timing, and ball distribution—this was the essence of a modern No.10, even if it looked different from the classic mold.
Duan Xuan and Xu Yang were once again buzzing with excitement. Their praise for Leon flowed endlessly, energizing the Chinese fans watching from home well past midnight.
With a two-goal lead inside twenty minutes, Ajax coach Frank de Boer's earlier smiles—like the one he gave Leon when signing that autograph—had vanished.
Now faced with harsh reality, he adjusted Ajax's tactics and ordered his players to retreat into a more compact shape.
Mourinho, seeing his opponent fall back, chose not to press harder. He instructed his own team to slow the pace and conserve energy.
Why waste stamina if Ajax had already accepted defeat?
And if Ajax decided to try a late-game push, well—Madrid could just punish them on the counter again.
This kind of tactical rope-a-dope was something Mourinho had perfected long ago.
For the rest of the first half, neither team mounted much pressure.
The half ended with a quiet whistle, and De Boer hustled his team back to the dressing room to make urgent adjustments.
Mourinho, meanwhile, considered the situation from De Boer's point of view. And sure enough, when the second half started, Ajax came out swinging.
De Boer just couldn't accept a meek 0–2 loss.
He knew that Ajax, defensively, wasn't sturdy enough to survive Madrid's waves of attack. So if they sat back and bunkered, they'd only invite more damage.
Better to risk it and go for a quick goal.
If it worked? The game would flip on its head at 1–2.
If it didn't? Well… they were already two goals down.
Ajax's players bought into the plan. They still believed they could strike back.
When Ajax pressed as a unit, they looked cohesive. Organized.
But their surge came to an abrupt halt once Mourinho showed his hand.
"Maintain defensive links! Karim, pressure No. 8 when he's on the ball. Without him, Ajax loses almost a third of their build-up options!"
Leon shouted instructions to Benzema while Madrid shifted into a 4-2-3-1 formation.
Alonso and Leon formed the double pivot, with Di María and Callejón dropping back to cover the wings.
Benzema transformed into a false 10, and Ronaldo remained the lone striker up top.
Mourinho had flipped the game again.
When De Boer thought Madrid would defend conservatively, Mourinho struck aggressively.
And when De Boer expected continued aggression, Mourinho pulled back and fortified his defense.
Ajax were trapped. And forced to commit to their full-pressing attack.
But they couldn't even penetrate the second wall of Madrid's three-layer defense.
Alonso and Leon's double pivot was simply too tough to break.
Ajax's attackers grew visibly frustrated. Every run into the box ended in dispossession.
Eriksen was bewildered.
"How is Leon still running like this?!"
He had seen the stats.
Leon hadn't missed a single game this season. Not even a partial one.
And yet, here he was, running like he'd just subbed on.
He chased. Tackled. Shielded. Pressed.
Alonso's role had become simpler: clean up in vertical space, cover where needed.
Leon? He did everything else.
Eriksen looked at Madrid's midfield with envy.
"Having a player like Leon behind you… must feel like a cheat code."
If Ajax had someone like that, Eriksen wouldn't have to retreat just to avoid losing possession.
As Ajax's attack fizzled and failed, Eriksen sighed internally.
Meanwhile, on the sideline, De Boer could only clench his fists.
Mourinho had completely outmaneuvered him.
This match? It was over.
Instead of dwelling on it, De Boer began thinking ahead.
Better to focus on beating Lyon, and padding their goal difference against Dinamo Zagreb.
He signaled to his bench. The subs started warming up.
Mourinho understood immediately.
He gestured for his team to start slowing down and managing the clock.
It wasn't a gentleman's agreement—it was simply two managers choosing to minimize damage.
When the final whistle blew, Real Madrid secured another comfortable Champions League group-stage win.
Two wins, six points, top of Group D.
Leon, smiling and relaxed, stepped in front of the press post-match for another round of interviews.
When asked about his shrug celebration after the second goal, Leon gave no comment.
There was no need.
Those who understood, understood.
Just the fact that he didn't name names was already more respect than those antagonistic journalists deserved.
When a Marca reporter asked about his and Madrid's Champions League ambitions, Leon paused.
He confirmed that Madrid reached the semifinals last season, scratched his head, smiled into the mic, and joked:
"Well… personally, I'd say we shouldn't aim lower than last year.
Let's at least make the semifinals again, right?"
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/johanssen10