Starting With Real Madrid

"Mehdi!"

Just as Benatia was about to head toward the locker room, he heard Gao Shen's voice calling out to him from the doorway of the coach's office.

Turning to see Gao Shen waving him over, Benatia immediately jogged toward him.

"Boss," he greeted respectfully.

Although he was new to the team, Benatia knew that it was Gao Shen who had given him a second chance in football. Without Gao Shen, he might not have even had a team to play for, let alone an opportunity at this level. For this, his heart was full of gratitude.

Since joining Napoli, Benatia had also come to understand just how highly regarded Gao Shen was within the team.

Whenever the players spoke about Gao Shen in private, there wasn't a single bad word about him. Instead, their comments were filled with admiration and respect, underscoring the deep trust Gao Shen had built with his players.

Benatia had played for several clubs before, but this was the first time he had encountered a coach who was held in such high esteem.

…

It was early evening, and training had just concluded for the day.

Gao Shen grabbed two chairs and set them outside the coach's office, sitting down as the setting sun cast its golden light over the horizon.

"It's been almost two months since you arrived in Italy. How are you settling in?" Gao Shen asked with a friendly smile.

Benatia had been learning Italian for three months, starting from the moment he signed with Napoli. By now, he could handle basic conversations without issue. Gao Shen had noted this early on as a sign of Benatia's intelligence.

"It's going well," Benatia replied.

"How's life here?"

"Very good."

"And your accommodations?"

"They're great too."

"Is there anything bothering you?"

"No, nothing at all."

By the end of the rapid-fire questions, Benatia couldn't help but chuckle.

Since taking over as Napoli's coach, Gao Shen had been meticulous about ensuring his players were well taken care of.

One reason for this was the youthfulness of Napoli's squad. Gao Shen understood the pressures young players faced, especially those suddenly thrust into the limelight with large paychecks. He made it a point to provide guidance and keep them grounded.

Another reason was that many of these players lacked the experience to manage their lives effectively, so Gao Shen ensured they had support. Team captain Montevino often played the role of mentor, and Gao Shen had specifically entrusted Benatia to Montevino's care when he joined.

After a bit of small talk, Gao Shen smoothly shifted the conversation toward training and matches.

One of the things Gao Shen admired most about Benatia was his eagerness to learn. The Moroccan defender made it a habit to carefully study the analysis reports provided after every game and training session, working tirelessly to improve himself.

Since arriving at Napoli, Benatia's progress had been evident, though Gao Shen noted one key area where he needed work, he was still too polite in his play.

This wasn't a major issue, though. Gao Shen had already instructed Cannavaro to mentor Benatia and teach him some of the "tricks" needed to excel in Serie A.

"What do you think about the upcoming Italian Super Cup?" Gao Shen asked casually.

Benatia hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I think we can win."

"That's the spirit!" Gao Shen laughed, clearly amused by the safe, flattering answer. "But what I really want to know is: what's your personal take on it?"

"I…" Benatia trailed off, unsure of how to respond. He was just a newcomer, an unknown player who hadn't played a competitive match in over a year. What insight could he possibly offer?

"If," Gao Shen began, his tone light but deliberate, "I asked you to mark Ibrahimovic, do you think you could do it?"

Benatia froze in shock, staring at Gao Shen as if he hadn't heard him correctly.

"Me?" The Moroccan defender's voice betrayed his disbelief. "How could that be possible?"

"Why not?" Gao Shen countered with a calm smile.

Benatia fumbled for a response, unsure of how to convey his doubts.

He wanted to remind Gao Shen that he was just a rookie, a player with no top-flight experience, who had spent a year sidelined by a serious knee injury. Meanwhile, Ibrahimovic was one of the best strikers in the world, a player who towered over the likes of Cavani, Drogba, and Torres.

Gao Shen wanted him to mark Ibrahimovic?

"Boss, are you joking?" Benatia asked awkwardly.

But Gao Shen simply smiled and shook his head. His silence was more compelling than any words could have been.

Realizing that Gao Shen wasn't joking, Benatia's nerves began to kick in. He licked his dry lips, his heart pounding.

"I know it's a lot to ask all of a sudden," Gao Shen said gently. "But it's okay. You have three days to think about it. Once you've made up your mind, give me your answer."

Benatia felt as though the ground beneath him had shifted. After a moment of thought, he managed to ask, "Boss, why?"

"Why?" Gao Shen repeated, pretending not to understand.

"Why do you think I can defend someone like Ibrahimovic?"

Even saying the striker's name sent a chill down Benatia's spine.

"It's simple," Gao Shen replied firmly. "Because I believe you can."

Benatia was taken aback. While he appreciated the vote of confidence, he couldn't shake the feeling that Gao Shen was overestimating him.

Gao Shen understood where Benatia's doubts came from. The defender had spent too long away from competitive football. Add to that his lack of experience at the top level, and it was no wonder he lacked confidence.

But Gao Shen also knew that Benatia had the potential to become one of Europe's top defenders. The ability to reach that level required a resilient spirit and an unshakable determination.

"I know you're not a household name," Gao Shen continued. "But when you trained at Clairefontaine, didn't you dream of becoming a world-class defender? Didn't you look up to players like Desailly, Blanc, and Thuram?

"You told me your best friend is Nasri. He's now a French international with a bright future. Back then, you were equals. Do you really think you're any less talented than him?

"You've worked so hard to get here, Mehdi. You've endured injuries, setbacks, and doubts from others. So why are you doubting yourself now?"

Benatia listened intently, the fire inside him slowly reigniting.

"And remember," Gao Shen pressed on, "when I first brought you to Napoli, I told you that you were not a substitute. You were here to compete alongside David Luiz, Bonucci, and Cannavaro. You promised me then that you wouldn't let me down.

"So, tell me, can you do what they can do? Or will you let this opportunity slip away?"

Benatia clenched his jaw, his mind racing.

"Go back and think it over," Gao Shen said, his tone softening. "If you think you can do it, I'll give you the chance to prove yourself in front of all of Italy, Europe, and the world.

"But if you don't think you're ready, that's fine too. I'll find someone else who is."

…

Standing by the window of the adjacent coach's office, Zidane watched the exchange between Gao Shen and Benatia unfold.

He couldn't help but marvel at Gao Shen's ability to motivate players.

Sometimes Zidane thought Gao Shen didn't seem like a football coach at all—more like a masterful salesman.

Hadn't Real Madrid's players once been similarly inspired by Gao Shen's words? Hadn't they gone into every match like warriors, ready to fight tooth and nail?

If Gao Shen could stir up a team full of veteran superstars, what chance did a young player like Benatia have against his eloquence?

Zidane's only concern was whether Benatia could truly deliver.

If he did, it would be nothing short of miraculous. A free transfer marking one of the world's best strikers in the Italian Super Cup? If Benatia succeeded, his market value would skyrocket overnight, and Gao Shen's reputation for spotting talent would reach even greater heights.

Next to him, Carlo's voice broke the silence.

"Care to make a bet?" Carlo asked with a grin.

Zidane turned to him with a skeptical look.

"I think Benatia can do it," Carlo said. "Gao Shen always surprises us. Sometimes it feels like he can pull off the impossible."

Zidane shook his head, chuckling softly as he turned to leave.

"Bet with you? Do I look that stupid?"

***

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