I Am Jose

Vázquez was confident that his players would break down Mallorca's group of "old, weak, sick, and disabled" veterans with their relentless sprints. However, what happened next was disappointing—Mallorca's aging squad, rather than collapsing under the energetic runs of Rayo Vallecano's players, seemed to gain an almost invincible resolve, as if they'd been injected with some sort of energy.

Vázquez had made one major misjudgment—while Mallorca's defensive line was indeed aging, possibly the oldest in La Liga, each player possessed nearly ten years of top-flight experience, and their physical condition hadn't significantly deteriorated. Sprinting back and forth might quickly drain their stamina, but in a more passive defensive setup, their experience, physicality, positioning, and judgment allowed them to perform at their best. There was no way a team like Rayo Vallecano, which didn't have a standout striker, would be able to easily break through their defense.

Moreover, Mallorca's quick counterattacks weren't something to be underestimated. Tristan's power was impressive, and both Stankovic and Ibagasa were skillful and fast midfielders. Though they weren't lightning quick, their short, sharp combinations and understanding between them caused plenty of problems for Vallecano's defense.

With the pressure from Mallorca's front players, Rayo Vallecano couldn't just attack without caution, allowing Mallorca's defense to operate with more ease.

After a period of intense attack, Rayo Vallecano's momentum began to falter. Such aggressive attacks were exhausting, and despite Sembranos' playmaking in the middle, the youthful Rayo Vallecano side slowed down as their stamina waned.

Yet, Mallorca didn't seize the moment for a counterattack but rather began controlling the midfield through passing and adjustment. The key figure in this was Captain N'Gonga, who kept receiving the ball and distributing it to find attacking opportunities.

Thus, the match coasted to halftime. When the referee blew the whistle signaling the end of the first half, José clenched his fist and stood up, heading toward the locker room. Vázquez, irritated, waved his hand dismissively, also standing and walking in the same direction.

Interestingly, their actions were almost synchronized. They met at the players' tunnel entrance. Vázquez glanced at José and snorted before entering the tunnel. José smiled slightly, waiting for Vázquez to go in before following suit.

In the locker room, José took a moment to ponder as Mallorca's players filed in. When Natal was the last to enter and closed the door, José cleared his throat to get the players' attention.