Chapter 94: The New Golden Boy Making Headlines in England
"This kid needs to spend more time practicing his long passes! He's getting quicker with his short ones, but the long balls are still hit-and-miss."
Mourinho was actually quite pleased, but he still grumbled a little under his breath.
Karanka, hearing this, just smiled silently.
If other La Liga coaches heard Mourinho nitpicking like this, they'd surely lose it. They might even curse him for being greedy.
Leon had only been back this season for a short time, and not only had his short passing improved dramatically, but his long passing was now visibly progressing as well.
Sure, compared to the playmakers from the top half of La Liga, Leon's long passing was probably still at the bottom of the list.
But just last season, Leon didn't even belong in that comparison.
Now, on the pitch, after celebrating with Kaká and the others, Leon was still mentally replaying that long pass that sliced through Granada's defense.
"I still don't use long passes enough. If I had the distance, I could've hit that ball quicker with a short pass. It's only because it was Granada. Against any of the top six in La Liga, that ball probably would've been cut out."
Pulling off another successful attacking transition felt great—but Leon's head remained cool. He carefully reviewed the entire play in his mind without getting overly excited.
After all, he often intercepted passes just like that when defending.
If he put himself in the other shoes—if he were the defender marking Morata—he'd have locked down the chase route. Plus, the ball landed dangerously close to the box. With good communication, the goalkeeper could have rushed out to clear it.
So he noted a few key flaws and resolved to improve them in training.
Still, Leon felt pretty satisfied being able to occasionally launch such long balls now.
What mattered most was continuing to integrate his organizational awareness with his passing technique.
There was still a big gap between spotting a chance and executing it to perfection.
But Leon wasn't worried about slow progress. As long as he kept improving steadily, he'd stay motivated.
"Keep the ball moving, control the tempo, tighten the defense, and then strike back when the time's right. We're doing great—no need to rush."
Back in his own half, Leon clapped and called out to his teammates.
With Alonso and Ramos absent today, it was on him to keep the back line alert.
And with Leon stepping up, Albiol and Lass, the more experienced players, held firm. The youngsters—Varane, Carvajal, and Nacho—were visibly more settled as well.
Nacho even flashed Leon a "got it" gesture.
With his teammates calm and focused, Leon felt more at ease. He was the lone pivot today, after all.
Organizing from deep was one thing, but the real problem came when your teammates weren't on the same page defensively.
If you were solid but they weren't? It still collapsed.
Now Leon understood how much pressure Alonso carried last season.
Back then, there was no one to cover the cover man.
Looking back now, Alonso had carried Real Madrid through three simultaneous competitions. Respect.
"Move up! Esteban (Granero), press their wing hard! Don't worry about getting bypassed—I've got your back!"
Shaking off distractions, Leon shouted at Granero to close down aggressively.
He didn't worry much about Lass's side—he was a wrecking ball when it came to defense.
Granero, though, needed more reminders.
Fortunately, Granero was level-headed, and Mourinho's recent tweaks had made him more invested in defending.
That was already a huge plus. Effort alone took a load off Leon's shoulders.
As for his average defensive ability? Leon didn't mind. Any Granada players Granero missed—he'd cover them.
Once Granada's attack flowed into Madrid's half, the first wall they hit was Leon.
On either side of him, Morata and Callejón had both tracked all the way back to the midfield line.
Under Mourinho's well-drilled, all-hands-on-deck defensive system, Granada's midfield advances were snuffed out time and time again.
Even when they occasionally pushed up near the penalty area, the revived Albiol—along with Varane—shut them down without letting them get close.
Granada's aggressive assault lasted about ten minutes, but the more they attacked, the more their confidence waned.
Whatever hope they had from seeing Madrid's lineup vanished completely.
And once their momentum faltered, Madrid struck back, pushing the game into Granada's half with ease.
Leon knew that when it came to building attacks in the final third, Granero had the edge.
So he called out for Granero to take the ball.
With Kaká also pushing up to deliver incisive passes, Leon shifted his focus fully to anchoring the midfield.
With clear roles, Madrid's possession looked sharp and efficient.
Kaká and Granero kept the attacking rhythm flowing, while Lass could burst forward on late runs. Leon didn't need to force himself into the mix.
Morata was performing decently today. The young striker still lacked confidence, but his technical link-up play with Kaká and Callejón was showing real promise.
In the 34th minute, Morata made a run that pulled Granada's defenders away from the top of the penalty area—
In the right-side channel of the final third, Kaká spotted a window and slotted a pass toward the top of the box. Granero arrived in time, took a quick touch, and launched a fierce shot on goal!
Granada's keeper, Roberto, managed to parry the shot, but the ball deflected off his defender, Siqueira, and bounced toward the right edge of the penalty area.
Callejón, who had been tirelessly making off-the-ball runs, saw his chance and pounced before anyone else could react!
Without giving Roberto a chance to recover, he smashed a first-time shot into the far corner!
2-0!
Before the first half even ended, Real Madrid had extended their lead again!
The 3,000+ Madrid fans who had made the trip exploded in cheers, celebrating joyfully from the stands.
As the rotation-heavy Madrid side began showing real fluidity and rhythm, the Spanish journalists along the sideline couldn't help but start discussing among themselves.
Sure, Granada wasn't exactly a tough opponent—they were in a relegation fight.
But for Real Madrid to completely control the tempo and dominate the game with a nearly full-rotation squad? That was newsworthy.
Because it meant one important thing: the starters could finally rest during some of the easier La Liga matches.
For fixtures against teams like Espanyol, Racing Santander, Zaragoza, and Sporting Gijón, Madrid could confidently field this backup lineup.
At most, toss in Ronaldo, let him go berserk and keep his lead over Messi in the top scorer race.
The rest of the squad could stay fresh and focused on big La Liga clashes and the Champions League.
As of this match, Madrid was on the verge of matching Barcelona's record of sixteen straight wins—accomplished right at the start of the season.
No one could say this team wasn't thinking about the Champions League.
Madrid was red-hot. They had just snapped a three-season winless streak against Barcelona. They were unstoppable.
Any rational Madrid fan would be dreaming of Europe by now.
The kings of the Champions League had gone nine long years without tasting the trophy again.
To talk about revival and only aim for the league title? That was just the starting point. If Madrid didn't lift the Champions League, could it really be called a revival?
The journalists were buzzing with ideas for headlines and narratives. Some were so excited, they stopped watching the match and started writing right there at pitchside.
So when Madrid netted a third goal in the second half and cruised to a 3-0 win over Granada, the players were a bit confused.
Where were the journalists?
Usually after a win, they'd be mobbed for interviews.
Today? Barely anyone showed up. Had the media gone home early for dinner?
The young guns like Morata and Carvajal looked slightly disappointed—not getting a chance to build their reputation with a post-match spotlight.
But Leon was more than happy to enjoy the peace. After a comfortable recovery session and a quick shower, he returned early to the team bus.
Mourinho was busy with the post-match press conference and likely had a tactical meeting with the coaching staff afterwards.
They were serious about this new "B team" and would be tweaking formations and player roles to keep things sharp.
But for the players, the mood was light and cheerful.
Whether it was the starters who watched from home or the backups riding the bus back to Madrid, everyone was in a good mood.
Because after the upcoming Copa del Rey clash against Ponferradina on December 20, Christmas break was here.
And unless something went terribly wrong, Madrid was expected to cruise into the next round.
After all, the second leg of the fourth round would feature the full-strength starting XI.
And as expected, that's exactly how it played out.
At 9:00 PM on December 20, Real Madrid started their A-team at home and demolished Ponferradina 7-0 in their final official match of 2011.
Ponferradina's players weren't even bitter. They were thrilled—taking selfies, swapping shirts, and fangirling over Madrid's stars.
Honestly, it looked more like a successful fan meet than a competitive fixture.
Leon started again, but his role was minor this time.
He had to coordinate with the club's PR campaign, holding up the Golden Boy trophy before the match, smiling awkwardly while journalists snapped away.
After about thirty minutes on the pitch—just enough for a symbolic appearance—Mourinho subbed him out to rest.
Yes, just a few days after Real Madrid defeated Barcelona and extended their unbeaten run to fifteen matches, Tuttosport had announced that Leon had beaten Mario Götze to win the 2011 Golden Boy award.
German media, unsurprisingly, were unhappy.
Before Leon returned to Madrid this season, Götze had been the favorite by a wide margin.
Götze had the stats, the hype, and was leading a young Dortmund side that won the Bundesliga.
But Leon, with his steadily rising performances at Madrid, slowly shifted the public narrative.
Once Madrid's marketing machine got involved—plus some strategic PR from his agent Mendes—Leon's stock skyrocketed after October.
Let's be honest. These awards are about more than just stats. Platform matters.
If Götze had been playing for Bayern Munich, with his numbers and silverware, the award would've been his without question.
But he wasn't—he was at Dortmund.
And he went up against a player who had won a domestic double in Italy and returned to Real Madrid.
When it comes to influence and media presence, you just can't compare Dortmund and Madrid.
The gap in scale wasn't minor—it was monumental.
And truthfully, Leon's Golden Boy win was entirely justified.
In terms of trophies, Leon had not only won the Serie A title last season but also lifted the Coppa Italia. This season? Real Madrid had racked up a string of consecutive victories, sitting comfortably at the top of La Liga, and qualified from the Champions League group stage with six wins out of six. Leon had started every match—an undisputed key player.
Dortmund? They were trailing Bayern in the Bundesliga and had only managed one win in the Champions League group stage—losing four and crashing out at the bottom of their group.
With that record, there was no comparison. The German media could only insist that Götze's individual performances were solid, carefully avoiding any mention of Dortmund's dismal European campaign.
So in the end, the result was clear, and Leon had no guilt about accepting the award.
After the match, with a club staffer's guidance, Leon held the Golden Boy trophy and gave an interview to Marca.
Then came the moment the Real Madrid players had been looking forward to the most—the arrival of their winter break.
Mourinho didn't spoil the mood with lengthy reminders. He gave them a simple report-back date and dismissed the team.
For now, they were free to do as they pleased.
They were professionals. Maintaining physical condition was expected. Anyone foolish enough to report to camp with added kilos would soon learn what "training intensity" really meant.
After all, Pintus was still part of the coaching staff. Enough said.
Leon decided not to return to China during this break. Instead, he joined Cristiano Ronaldo and a few others on a trip to Valencia to soak up some Mediterranean winter sun.
No heavy training. Just daily gym sessions, a little swimming, and plenty of rest.
He celebrated Christmas with Ronaldo's extended family and met with Mendes to touch base on upcoming projects.
After nearly a week of pure relaxation, Leon said goodbye and, with his assistant team, headed to England.
His destination: London. The reason: a commercial shoot.
It took three grueling days to finish filming.
Throughout the process, he noticed quite a few people with cameras loitering outside the studio.
He didn't think much of it—until his assistant handed him a tabloid from The Sun featuring him in a front-page gossip piece.
The headline? "Golden Boy Spotted with Blonde Bombshell in London — Romance Rumors Swirl!"
Leon laughed—half from disbelief, half from outrage.
"They don't know this is a commercial shoot? What the hell is this? 'Allegedly dating a blonde stunner in London'? That's defamation! Can I sue for libel?"
His assistant paused, then shook his head.
Suing The Sun was pointless.
They were experts in celebrity gossip. The keyword "allegedly" gave them all the wiggle room they needed.
If anything, the paper would welcome a lawsuit—it would only boost traffic and public attention.
"If you really want to sue, I can arrange it," the assistant said. "But there are other ways."
"Like what?"
"Well, if a bigger story breaks soon, your gossip piece will get buried. Their expected traffic won't meet expectations."
Leon paused, thought for a moment—and his eyes lit up.
The next afternoon, Leon made a public appearance in downtown London. It didn't take long before fans and journalists spotted him.
At 4 PM, he showed up at Stamford Bridge to watch Chelsea vs. Aston Villa.
Not in a VIP suite—just the regular stands with fans.
The sight immediately set off a frenzy in the British press, while online, Premier League fans were quick to speculate.
Some said Leon was simply enjoying his break and watching a match while in town.
After all, of the five major European leagues, only the Premier League plays through Christmas. Watching a game during the holidays wasn't unusual.
But many others had a different theory: Chelsea was talking to Mendes.
Everyone in the Premier League knew Chelsea needed a defensive midfielder—especially a tough one.
Leon wasn't just tough; he had a reputation since his debut for being durable and tireless. He fit the profile perfectly.
Rumors exploded, and the previous day's gossip was quickly overshadowed by speculation about a potential transfer.
Back in Spain, Madrid fans rushed online to squash the rumors.
They posted Leon's shooting schedule, screenshots of his Instagram post explaining he was in London for a commercial.
It looked like the fan-led PR campaign had successfully debunked the story.
But then came the real headline.
As the Chelsea match ended, Leon—seated visibly among the spectators—stood up and slammed his hand on his chair in visible frustration.
Chelsea had lost 1-3 at home to Aston Villa.
The cameras caught it. The photos hit front pages.
And the transfer rumors?
They exploded.
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