Along with Granero and Alonso, the Murcian Pedro León Sánchez belonged to a long line of Spanish midfielders who had emerged over the previous decade. He was one of those players whose style of play had provided Spain with a distinctive footballing identity. In the pre-season with Madrid he had given the impression of being physically ready to fulfil the potential that scouts from Chelsea, Barça and Milan had all glimpsed in him. His development at Getafe in the 2009–10 season – that combination of vision, creative audacity and a clean strike of the ball – had placed him among the top players in the league with nine assists. Only Alves (Barcelona) with 11 and Navas (Sevilla) with 10 were ahead of him, and he was level with Valero (Villarreal), and Xavi and Messi (Barcelona). Pedro León had succeeded in Getafe, a small team on the outskirts of Madrid, without the attacking players around him that he would have had at Barcelona, Sevilla and Villarreal. When Madrid paid €10 million for him no one seemed to think it was a bad deal.
His way of dominating the ball, the co-ordination of body and object, his subtle touches – these were all a throwback to another era, to a time when children had no TV, no consoles, no McDonald’s, no mobile phones or Dolce & Gabbana – only footballs. For José Luis Mendilíbar, his coach at Valladolid, the lad seemed to have stepped out of a time machine.
Mendilíbar, born in Vizcaya in 1961, gets excited just thinking about it. ‘There are no players like Pedro León anymore,’ he says. ‘He’s from the last century. He’s like a child. Throw him a ball on the street and he’ll start to play with it. I had to practically call him in from training sessions.’
Pedro León was always a boy with slightly old-fashioned habits. Born in Mula, an inland town in Murcia, he had the reserved nature typical of highland people, and had had a strict upbringing from his father, a retired policeman permanently disabled after being the victim of a terrorist attack, possibly by ETA. There was a spartan regime in the house and sacrifice, physical courage and discretion were valued above all other qualities.
Pedro León detested jokes and abhorred electronic games. He paid very little attention to social life, to music, to bars or admirers, and settled down with his first girlfriend. Vicente del Bosque once said of Pedro Munitis: ‘Football is his vice.’ Football was also Pedro León’s vice, and he left evidence of his weakness wherever he went. When he played for Levante in the 2007–08 season, he trained with his team-mates in the mornings in Buñol and then travelled 200 miles to Mula to play indoor football with his friends.
The summer he signed for Madrid, after a somewhat inactive holiday period, he enrolled in a seven-a-side football championship despite running the risk of injury. It was one of those tournaments that lasts for 24 hours without interruption, like ‘The 24 hours of Caravaca’. A marathon. It began on a Saturday and ended on Sunday after some early-hours-of-the-morning play-offs. The Madrid scouts whose job it is to check out the private lives of potential signings could not have been clearer in their reports. Valdano shrugged his shoulders: ‘The boy is clean-living to the point of being naive.’
Pedro León possessed the spirit of an amateur but that contrasted with Mourinho’s rather industrial notion of football, where players were aseptic pieces on an assembly line to be put together as the coach saw fit. Pedro León would never put in an indifferent spell at training, despite the fact that his coach hardly ever used him for competitive matches. It was a new experience for the youth. Never before had he had such a peripheral role in a team and it burned him up inside. He was going to Valdebebas every morning like someone on his way into battle. Teeth clenched, he worked as if each session were his last chance to win his place in the team. His aim was to occupy the right wing, where the most expensive signing of the summer – the first transfer that turned a profit for Benfica Stars Fund – played: Angel di María.
That night at the Ciutat de Valencía – when Mourinho accused Pedro León of displaying a vain and selfish attitude in front of his team-mates – was only his second game of the season. In five rounds of league matches and one round of Champions League fixtures he had only played 60 minutes; Di María had already played 340. The press conference in Auxerre was the most explicit public attack that Mourinho had launched against one of his own players. It is probable that after hearing what he said Mourinho realised he needed to make what had happened seem like nothing special. Who better for the job than Pedro León himself?
Mourinho spoke to him two weeks after returning from Auxerre, asking him to give a press conference that he himself would supervise. The procedure was the same as he used when Karanka spoke in public and more often than not when one of his players held a formal press conference: he would meet the player in question, he would formulate the questions that he imagined reporters would ask and suggest answers, as if in a face-to-face interview. What Mourinho asked Pedro León can be worked out from the repetitive answers the player gave in the press room.
‘I spoke with the coach after the game against Levante and I knew I’d done some things wrong,’ he said, without specifying exactly what his mistakes had been. ‘There’s been no punishment. I’d even say I feel protected by my coach. He’s the boss. I know that when the boss gets along well with someone he usually tell them these things. At no time have I felt bad or offended. If I have to ask anyone for advice, then, with the friendly relationship I have with my coach, I ask him.
‘I get along with him very well. I’ve a very good relationship. I know that everything he does is for the good of the group and for me. And the team’s good …’
This was positive propaganda that favoured the powers that be. But still, Mourinho did not like some of the words used by the player. In time, the coach would forbid Madrid players from giving press conferences – something that they had hitherto done on an almost daily basis.
His public appearance did little to enhance Pedro León’s career prospects at Madrid, and he played less and less. On 3 October at the San Siro in the fourth round of the group stage of the Champions League, Milan led 2–1 when the coach brought him on with 10 minutes remaining. His contribution was explosive: he got the equalising goal in the last attack of the match. But there was no reward. This goal was the last thing Pedro León did on the pitch for a long while as he did not play a single minute in any of the following six league matches.
Murcia lawyer José Sánchez Bernal, one of the 16 men who sat alongside Pérez on the board, was quick to offer the official version of his fellow Murcian in the newspaper La Verdad de Murcia. ‘I have to clarify the fact that our coach has not put a cross against his name,’ he said. ‘I’m sure Pedro León will end up playing many games for Real Madrid and have lots of success.’
Sánchez Bernal’s vision offers up an idea of the type of information available to the board. The reality for Pedro León at Valdebebas was very different. His future in Madrid was unfeasible. Chelsea and Manchester City made contact with Valdano in December and January to inquire about the footballer, checking the possibility of a loan until the summer. Hearing this, Mourinho rejected the idea, saying he needed him. In the second half of the season, however, he used him even less.
For players, and for employees close to the first-team squad, the reasons for the relegation of Pedro León are the same ones that inspired the demotion of Kaká and Canales. Because of the way Mourinho lined up his team, the presence of these players would have been a serious threat to Di María’s place in the starting line-up. Since the Argentinian winger clearly could not compete with Ronaldo or Özil, it became clear that he had to play on the right wing. In order to keep Di María there, Mourinho had to edge out all serious competitors who performed well on that side of the pitch.
By Christmas 2010 Mourinho was fully aware that Pérez was withholding the power and the conditions from him that he had demanded to carry out his grand task. It was not enough for him to have converted Valdebebas, that once public exhibition of all things Madrid, into a fortress whose inhabitants increasingly believed that the interests of a privileged few were being served above all others. He needed much more power and something told him it would not be possible to progress in his mission without first causing a long conflict. The pacification of the club, which José Ángel Sánchez had spoken about, could not be achieved without violent