I Am Jose

"What target?" José asked curiously, looking at Piri. He knew that when it came to players in La Liga who weren't particularly famous, Piri would definitely have a better grasp than he did.

"Right midfielder from Málaga, Francisco Rufete. Twenty-four years old, a Spanish international. Fast, accurate crosses, hardworking, and highly active on the pitch. He came from Barcelona's youth academy but never played for the first team. He previously joined Mallorca but left midway through the 1998-99 season due to a lack of playing time, transferring to Málaga, who were still in the Segunda División at the time. Over three seasons, he's made over eighty appearances, scoring fourteen goals—quite an impressive record. His contract has two years left, and his release clause is only eight million dollars. We could sign him for a relatively low price," Piri said with a smile.

José recalled the player. When they faced Málaga away last season, Rufete had been suspended, which was why José hadn't formed much of an impression of him. However, he had seen him in the Spanish national team—after last year's European Championship, Rufete had secured a spot in the restructured squad. The fact that he was selected despite the presence of Mendieta spoke volumes about his ability.

"If we're looking for a replacement for Mendieta, I actually think Rufete is a better fit than Ibagaza. His playmaking ability is stronger," Piri added with a grin.

"If they don't want him, then we'll take him. Our midfield already has plenty of dynamic dribblers—Ronaldinho alone is enough. If Rufete brings more balance between attack and defense, he might actually be more useful than Ibagaza," José said, laughing.

Rufete seemed like a solid choice. Since Piri had recommended him, José had no reason to doubt the suggestion. He immediately called the club's transfer department to inquire about the possibility of signing Rufete. Then, he and Piri eagerly turned their attention to Drogba's match highlights from the past two seasons.

"Damn, this guy is rough," José muttered to himself while watching. No wonder people joked about him being the 'Ivorian Li Yi' when he later moved to the Premier League. His technique was laughably raw—his first touch could send the ball five meters away, and his dribbling looked clumsy, like a rampaging elephant. He just bulldozed his way through defenders. But still, his physical attributes were absolutely monstrous...

"What do you think of him?" José asked with a smile.

Piri pulled a face, as if he were watching something unbearable. He had no personal bias, but as a technically skilled player himself, he never had much appreciation for rough-and-tumble players like Drogba. "His physicality is certainly impressive... but his ball control is just painful to watch."

"Ball control can be trained over time. But that kind of physique... damn, it's insanely strong," José mused.

"Are you seriously considering signing him? He's already twenty-three—he may not have much room for development. Plus, he had two injuries last season, playing only eleven matches in total. He looks strong, but who knows if there are hidden risks?" Piri asked, surprised.