"Why did you suddenly ask me out for coffee?"
Luis Lourenço sat down opposite Mourinho. Accustomed to his old friend's habitually cold expression, he ordered a coffee from the approaching waitress and began reviewing several manuscripts.
He was one of Portugal's best-known sports journalists, writing columns for several newspapers and maintaining extensive contacts throughout the industry. He was also Mourinho's fellow countryman. The two had known each other for years and had always been close.
Lourenço initially expected Mourinho to explain himself, but when no answer came, he looked up from his papers.
"What's wrong with you, José?" he asked with concern.
Mourinho emerged from his thoughts and shook his head. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, only to discover that it had gone cold. He quickly called the waitress over and asked for a fresh one.
Throughout it all, his brow remained furrowed.
"Luis, do you think Ferguson is a great manager?" Mourinho suddenly asked.
Lourenço laughed.
"Of course he is. The football world sees him as a man who ushered in a new era and established a dynasty. Many already consider him the greatest manager in Manchester United's history. Whether you're his friend or his opponent, you have to admire his achievements and ability."
"What about Brian Clough?"
"He was also great. Personally, I find Clough's achievements even more remarkable, but Ferguson faced greater challenges. Modern football is completely different from the game in Clough's era, and it will only become more difficult and results-driven in the future."
Mourinho seemed affected by the answer, and Lourenço, who knew him well, immediately noticed that something was wrong.
"What happened?"
Mourinho looked out through the café window. From time to time, celebrating Belgian supporters passed by, their faces filled with the uncomplicated joy of seeing their national team win.
"Just now, I met a club owner who wants to appoint me. He confidently told me that I would regret turning down the opportunity to create a new era. He even called me short-sighted," Mourinho said with an unreadable smile.
Lourenço studied his friend.
The fact that Mourinho was willing to mention it proved the words had struck a nerve. Otherwise, given his personality, he would never have shown such emotion.
"Luis, would you rather become one star among many in an already brilliant constellation, or create a magnificent constellation of your own for future generations to admire?"
Lourenço found the question unusually philosophical. After considering it for a moment, he answered.
"The first choice would undoubtedly be easier. The second would be far more difficult, but it would also bring a greater sense of achievement and fulfilment. Neither choice is wrong. It depends entirely on the person making it."
Then Lourenço suddenly smiled.
"To be honest, José, I'm beginning to think this club owner understands you very well. He has clearly identified exactly what kind of person you are, and from the sound of it, he is extremely ambitious."
"You don't even know which club it is."
"That doesn't matter, José." Lourenço shook his head. "As long as it isn't a Portuguese club, I see no problem. I've worked in Portuguese football long enough to know how insecure a manager's position can be, especially for someone taking his first senior job. You can't expect to build anything when you might be dismissed within six months."
It was for precisely this reason that, a year earlier, Lourenço had persuaded Mourinho not to accept an offer from a top-flight Portuguese club. Mourinho had listened to him and remained at Barcelona.
However, Mourinho's final year there had not been a happy one.
His ambition had continued to grow, and he could no longer tolerate remaining an assistant. His tactical disagreements with Van Gaal only made the situation more frustrating.
Whatever the case, that year had finally ended. Van Gaal had departed, Gaspart had taken control and appointed Ferrer, and Mourinho had naturally left as well.
It was both surprising and entirely understandable.
"It's an English League Two club," Mourinho finally revealed.
Lourenço could no longer smile.
He knew how proud Mourinho was. His friend would never willingly accept a position he considered beneath him.
But the truth was that no one yet knew just how talented Mourinho really was.
"Do you want my honest opinion, José?" Lourenço asked after thinking for a moment.
"Of course. Otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting here."
Lourenço smiled bitterly. Mourinho's way of speaking was still as sharp as ever.
"I think you should try it. The level of the league isn't the most important thing. Even if it's only League Two, it's still professional football. If you perform well, clubs at higher levels will notice you."
"More importantly, managing in the lower divisions means less pressure. It will give you room to experiment and make mistakes."
"At a major club, one match can determine everything. Win, and you're a genius. Lose, and you're a failure. It's a ruthless environment that gives you almost no margin for error. You spent enough time at Barcelona to understand that better than I do."
"I believe in you, José. Right now, you have plenty of theories, but you need the opportunity to put them into practice. And once you begin doing that, mistakes are inevitable."
"Besides, judging by what you've said, this owner appears extremely ambitious. Why not consider it? Managers are generally given more authority in England."
Lourenço paused, then added the most practical point.
"And most importantly, José, you're currently unemployed."
After hearing this, Mourinho had to admit that his situation was exactly as Lourenço described.
Ethan knew what the future held. He knew Mourinho would survive the pressure and eventually become one of Europe's most famous managers.
But Mourinho himself did not know any of that.
All he knew was that he was currently unemployed, sitting at home and waiting for an opportunity.
"They've just been promoted to League Two. The club is New Manchester United," Mourinho finally said.
Lourenço immediately looked surprised.
"New Manchester United?"
"You know them?"
"Of course. They're a fascinating club. Their founding caused a sensation, and in only two years they've won consecutive doubles and earned direct promotion to League Two. They already have a certain reputation in England."
"But the most interesting thing about them is their owner."
"Ethan Yu?" Mourinho frowned as he remembered the man who had somehow managed to be even more arrogant than him.
"Don't take this the wrong way, José. I'm your friend, but I have to be honest. At this moment, you cannot compare with him in any respect. If you knew more about him, you would understand that he has every right to speak arrogantly in front of you."
Lourenço then began recounting everything he knew about Ethan.
Mourinho had not known that Ethan had risked everything to found New Manchester United. Nor had he known that Ethan had built his fortune from nothing, become friends with Apple's Steve Jobs, or earned widespread praise from investors on Wall Street.
He also had no idea that the sports car Ethan had designed for Lamborghini had recently won an award at one of the world's most prestigious motor shows.
Still less did he know that Ethan had personally written New Manchester United's club anthem.
By the time Lourenço finished, even he was surprised by how much Ethan had already accomplished.
"Put simply, he is an obsessive football supporter who also happens to be extremely wealthy and willing to invest. One of the things he says most often is that New Manchester United is like his son."
Lourenço leaned back in his chair.
"From what I know of him, he isn't the kind of man who makes empty promises."
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Lourenço smiled.
"This is a wager, José. Ethan is betting that you can become the next Ferguson, while you would be betting that New Manchester United can become the next Manchester United."
"So what?" Mourinho sounded slightly displeased.
He hated gambling. Even after becoming one of Europe's most famous managers, he would continue to dislike it. Gambling depended too heavily on luck, while Mourinho preferred to control every possible variable.
"Based on the hands each of you currently holds, I would bet on him," Lourenço replied with a laugh. "Whichever way you look at it, he is the more promising investment right now. It's that simple, José."
Ethan was already a billionaire, he was willing to spend money, and financial strength had become one of the most important factors in a club's development.
Lourenço believed that even if Mourinho rejected him, Ethan could quickly find another manager whose reputation and ability were at least comparable. His ambition and resources would make certain of that.
The more Lourenço thought about it, however, the stranger the situation seemed.
Why had Ethan approached Mourinho in the first place?
Mourinho had been Van Gaal's assistant, but he was hardly a devoted disciple. He had frequently questioned Van Gaal's decisions in private, much to the Dutch manager's displeasure.
More importantly, Mourinho had never managed a senior team himself.
Talented players were common enough, but people rarely spoke of naturally gifted managers. Almost every manager improved through constant experimentation, research, and learning, progressing through the pain of defeat and the confidence gained from victory.
Mourinho had not even coached a youth team independently.
So why had Ethan chosen him?
Did he see Mourinho as a high-potential investment, like an emerging software company in Silicon Valley?
Naturally, the proud Mourinho thought Ethan's interest was perfectly reasonable.
Lourenço, however, was curious. He felt he needed to help his friend discover the answer.
As it happened, an opportunity soon presented itself.
On June 12, after England lost 3-2 to Portugal, Beckham made an obscene gesture toward the England supporters in the stands. Since the match was being broadcast live, viewers across the world saw it, causing an enormous uproar.
Under those circumstances, Luis Lourenço requested an interview with Beckham's close friend.
Ethan readily agreed.
(To be continued.)
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