Chapter 85: The New Castilla Five Eagles
Pellegrini had no idea that after the match, Leon had quietly sowed the seeds of a future transfer by whispering sweet temptations to his prized pupil, Isco.
If he had, maybe he wouldn't have praised Leon so much after shaking Mourinho's hand.
Hell, he might've even unleashed his own version of the "Pellegrini Hairdryer" on the cheeky kid.
But Mourinho?
Mourinho just kept beaming.
Every time a rival coach praised Leon's rapid development, Mourinho would feign humility—"He still has a lot to improve"—but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth couldn't be hidden.
Because thanks to the relentless coverage by Spanish media, everyone now knew: Leon grew up under Mourinho's guidance.
Before, journalists used to say Mourinho didn't trust young players, that he only relied on veterans.
But now?
The better Leon played, the more that narrative shattered—and the brighter Mourinho's reputation glowed.
If only a reporter had asked again about youth development...
Mourinho would've dragged Leon over and shoved him between himself and the journalist.
Heck, maybe next time he'd bring Nacho too, let the two of them—the former "Defensive Twins" from Castilla—do the talking.
"Castilla's still producing plenty of talent.
If we need loan reinforcements this winter, José, don't be stingy with your boys."
Pellegrini chuckled as he said goodbye to Mourinho.
Mourinho laughed and nodded in agreement.
But as soon as Karanka approached, Mourinho turned serious.
Grabbing Karanka by the shoulder, he gave rapid-fire instructions.
"Toril. I want a report from Castilla's coach. Top three performers so far this season. Detailed. Strengths, weaknesses, everything."
He was talking about Alberto Toril, head coach of Castilla.
Karanka immediately understood.
"You want to bring them up for experience? Or actually use them?"
"Start with training. If they prove themselves, keep them.
This winter, I'm only planning two moves—one sale, one signing.
So the kids better be ready."
"Got it."
Mourinho wasn't being impulsive.
After Nacho had proven himself capable of backing up Arbeloa, Mourinho's mind had already turned toward mining Castilla for more gems.
After all, with Leon and now Nacho, it was hard not to keep digging into that treasure trove.
Sure, Madrid had the money to buy replacements any time they wanted.
But using your own youth?
That was different.
Leon and Nacho had proven: homegrown players were reliable, low-maintenance, and easy to integrate.
And there really was talent in Castilla.
If he could find another Nacho? That alone would be a win.
If—just if—he could find another Leon?
Mourinho stifled the grin creeping across his face.
He turned back to Karanka, reminded him again to prioritize the report.
That night, because it wasn't too late, the squad flew straight back to Madrid.
The next morning, Mourinho gave everyone the morning off, telling them to report to Valdebebas by 2 p.m. for medical checks.
Leon, as usual, arrived half an hour early.
He stepped into the locker room—and froze.
"Wait, did I go the wrong way?
Don't tell me I just walked into Castilla's locker room by mistake!"
He stared in disbelief.
Across the room, Morata was chatting with two familiar figures who now rushed forward, shouting and laughing.
The three embraced tightly.
"Boss! You didn't even tell me! If anyone's got the right to pick Castilla players for promotion, it's me!
Coach Toril doesn't know you guys like I do!"
Leon grinned, wrapping his arms around his old friends from the C team and Castilla—Dani Carvajal and Lucas Vázquez.
"Booooo!"
Morata joined in the jeering as the group burst into laughter.
Leon didn't care—he changed into his training gear quickly and led the others out to warm up.
Morata had already been up to the first team several times.
He'd even traveled with them to the U.S. for preseason.
So of the three, he was the calmest.
Carvajal and Vázquez, however, were clearly wide-eyed and full of curiosity as they looked around Valdebebas's elite facilities.
By 2 p.m., more senior players began arriving.
The new boys quieted down quickly.
Leon didn't rush to introduce them—he knew from experience that Casillas would take care of that.
And on the pitch, they'd get to know each other naturally.
That's how it had always worked.
That's how it had worked for him.
That's how it had worked for Nacho.
Talk was cheap.
Only performance earned trust.
"Relax, guys. Don't be nervous. Don't be too stiff around the veterans. Just play your game."
Leon's pep talk made Nacho scratch his head.
"Wait a minute…
Why does that sound so familiar?"
Carvajal and Vázquez both thanked Leon quietly.
Mourinho got straight to work.
No fluff.
No formal speeches.
Just a few basic intros—and then right into recovery training.
When it came time for tactical drills and internal scrimmages, Leon, Nacho, Carvajal, and Vázquez were placed in the same team.
Morata joined the main squad—with Cristiano, Higuaín, and the other first-team stars.
As expected, the youngsters' squad got schooled.
Thirty minutes.
Two goals conceded.
Leon ran and tackled his heart out, but there was only so much you could do against Cristiano and Benzema.
And without Alonso to anchor the midfield alongside him?
Leon truly felt what it meant to be outnumbered and outgunned.
Carvajal and Vázquez were clearly nervous.
Their performances were average—nothing special.
Seeing their frustration, Leon forgot his own disappointment and quickly encouraged the two.
Meanwhile, Mourinho and Karanka watched from the sideline, already discussing the young players' evaluations.
Pellegrini had no idea that after the final whistle, Leon had lured his prized pupil Isco with a few tempting words of recruitment.
If he had, he certainly wouldn't have been so generous in praising Leon after his handshake with Mourinho.
Who knows—he might have activated his own version of the Pellegrini hairdryer.
Meanwhile, Mourinho—accustomed now to hearing rival coaches sing Leon's praises—once again downplayed it with a few modest words:
"He still has a lot of weaknesses."
But that smile?
Yeah, it betrayed his pride completely.
With the media digging deeper into Leon's story every day, by now almost every coach and fan in La Liga knew that Leon had grown under Mourinho's trust.
Critics had long accused Mourinho of only trusting veterans and being incapable of developing young talent.
But now, the better Leon played, the more radiant Mourinho's face became.
If only someone would ask about developing youth players again—he'd drag Leon over, plant him between himself and the reporter, and say, 'Ask him.'
Maybe next time he'd bring Nacho too. Let the former Castilla Defensive Duo explain it in person.
"There's still a ton of talent coming out of Castilla these days," Pellegrini joked as they said goodbye.
"If we're looking for loans in the winter, don't hog them all to yourself, José."
Mourinho laughed and agreed casually.
But the moment he turned around and saw Karanka, he immediately shifted gears.
"Karanka, tell Toril I want a detailed report on Castilla's top three players this season—strengths, weaknesses, everything."
He was referring to Alberto Toril, Castilla's current head coach.
Karanka instantly understood.
"You want them training with the first team or...?"
"Start with training. If they prove themselves, they stay.
This winter window, we'll only make two moves—one sale, one signing.
The rest? The kids better be ready."
"Understood."
Mourinho wasn't acting on impulse.
After Nacho proved himself as a reliable backup to Arbeloa, Mourinho started thinking seriously about digging deeper into the Castilla vault.
Leon had come from there.
Now Nacho.
Why stop?
Even though Madrid had the cash to buy backups, using homegrown players just felt better. Easier. Cleaner.
And let's be honest—Castilla's current crop was looking strong.
If he could dig up another Nacho, that'd be a win.
If he somehow unearthed another Leon?
Mourinho couldn't help but grin.
Then quickly composed himself and told Karanka to fast-track the process.
That night, with time still early, the squad flew straight back to Madrid.
The next morning, Mourinho gave the team a half-day off, telling everyone to report by 2 p.m. for physicals.
Leon, ever the early bird, showed up half an hour early as usual—and froze.
"Wait... did I take the wrong turn? Don't tell me this is Castilla's locker room!"
He blinked in disbelief.
Sitting inside, chatting with Morata, were two very familiar faces.
Seconds later, all three were wrapped in a tight embrace.
"Boss! You didn't tell me! If anyone should pick who gets called up from Castilla, it's me!
Coach Toril doesn't know them like I do!"
Leon chuckled, hugging his old teammates—Dani Carvajal and Lucas Vázquez.
"Booooo~"
Morata joined the playful jeering.
Leon grinned and changed into his training kit, then signaled the others to head out and start warming up.
Morata had already been called up to the first team a few times.
He even joined the preseason tour to the U.S.
So among the three, he was the calmest.
Carvajal and Vázquez, meanwhile, looked around Valdebebas with wide-eyed awe.
By 2 p.m., as more first-team players trickled in, Leon and the others—already sweating from their warm-up—watched Carvajal and Vázquez stiffen back up.
Leon didn't rush to introduce them.
He knew from experience—Casillas would take care of that.
Besides, they'd get to know everyone naturally during drills.
That's how it had worked for Leon. That's how it had worked for Nacho.
"Just relax, guys. Don't be too nervous.
Don't be overly formal with the boss either. Just play like you normally do."
Nacho scratched his head.
"Why does that sound so familiar...?"
Carvajal and Vázquez nodded, grateful for the reassurance.
Mourinho didn't waste time.
A few quick intros, a couple greetings, and straight into recovery training.
During tactical drills and scrimmage, Leon, Nacho, Carvajal, and Vázquez were grouped together.
Morata was placed with the starters—Cristiano, Higuaín, and the other A-listers.
No surprise: the "B team" lost quickly.
Thirty minutes. Two goals conceded.
Leon ran his legs off, but even he couldn't stop Cristiano and Benzema from weaving through.
And without Alonso next to him, Leon truly felt how lonely it was to hold midfield alone.
Carvajal and Vázquez were clearly nervous.
Their performances? Average.
Seeing their tension, Leon dropped his own self-reflection and cheered them up.
Meanwhile, Mourinho and Karanka stood nearby, evaluating every move the youngsters made.
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