SWR: Chapter 509/510

Chapter 509: Confusion

The journey from Naples to Rome takes less than two hours, but Gao Shen still decided to travel a day in advance.

Napoli wasn't unfamiliar with the Stadio Olimpico, yet Gao Shen insisted on holding a familiarization session there the day before the match. Everything was meticulously planned, every detail executed with care.

His message to the players was clear: Don't get complacent just because the final is in Rome.

Even if the match were held at the San Paolo in Naples, victory wouldn't be guaranteed.

Remember the 2012 Champions League final? It was held at the Allianz Arena.

Bayern Munich played Chelsea.

Who won?

That's right—Chelsea.

Gao Shen dismissed the media's claims that Napoli had an advantage because the final was being held in Rome.

It was nonsense, in his view.

With modern travel, technology, and improved logistics, the concept of "home advantage" wasn't what it used to be. Besides, what did Rome's Olympic Stadium have to do with Naples?

Take that Bayern-Chelsea final, for example.

Ticket allocations for Champions League finals are always evenly split: one-third goes to UEFA, while the remaining two-thirds are divided equally between the two finalists.

So where's the advantage?

Since he couldn't control the media narrative, Gao Shen focused on keeping his team sharp and alert.

The real advantage of playing in Rome was logistical convenience.

No long flights. No complex transport schedules. Everything was close and familiar.

Barcelona, on the other hand, had to send an entire truckload of food, water, and training equipment across the border.

At least they had learned their lesson.

Last time, when Gao Shen's Real Madrid faced Barcelona in the 2006 final in Paris, the Catalans had prematurely bought a giant bottle of champagne, confident they would win.

Instead, they left the Stade de France empty-handed.

As for that bottle of champagne? Gao Shen had no idea what happened to it.

Probably drank it at home in frustration.

This time, Barcelona kept a much lower profile.

And with good reason.

Napoli had reached the final after eliminating three consecutive Premier League clubs. Their path to Rome had been brutal but impressive.

Barcelona knew they were in for a fight.

…

Napoli's team bus departed Castel Volturno on time and headed directly to the Stadio Olimpico for their training session.

Afterward, the players went straight to their hotel to check in.

The proximity between the cities made everything smoother than usual.

Gao Shen, however, remained at the stadium for UEFA's pre-match press conference.

It was a familiar routine. He had gone through the same process before the final in Paris.

"Hey, congratulations, Gao!"

The greeting came from Bruno Conti, the venue representative for the Champions League final.

He had been involved throughout the tournament, from the group stage draw to overseeing the stadium's preparation for the final. As Roma's general manager, he was deeply invested in the event's success.

Before the press conference, Gao Shen took the opportunity to discuss some logistical details with him.

His request?

"Take care of us as much as possible, within the rules, of course."

There was nothing unusual about this.

UEFA guidelines for pitch dimensions allowed for some flexibility.

The standard size was 105m x 68m, but Camp Nou, for instance, measured 107m x 72m—significantly larger.

That added space changed the dynamics of a match.

The Stadio Olimpico's pitch was already set to the standard size, so Gao Shen's "care" request referred to other aspects: facilities, accommodations, and subtle, behind-the-scenes details that might provide an edge.

Despite the rivalry between Roma and Napoli, Conti agreed without hesitation.

After all, a Napoli victory would bring prestige not only to the club but also to Serie A as a whole.

"Don't worry," Conti promised, "we'll take care of you as best we can."

That, right there, was Napoli's only real "home advantage."

When Gao Shen walked into the press conference hall, he was greeted by warm applause.

Feeling slightly flattered, he quickly raised his hand to acknowledge the crowd with a modest smile.

The room was packed with reporters from all over the world. These weren't just average journalists, they were seasoned football insiders, the kind who knew more than the average fan and had access to behind-the-scenes information.

Gao Shen's three years in Naples had been nothing short of a success.

Even if Napoli lost the upcoming Champions League final, his standing within the football world wouldn't be shaken.

Especially if he lost to his own protégé, Guardiola.

The two coaches might share similar tactical philosophies, but they operated on vastly different platforms with vastly different resources.

Guardiola had inherited Messi, a generational talent, along with European champions like Xavi, Iniesta, and Busquets. Add world-class stars like Henry, Eto'o, and Yaya Touré to the mix, and it was clear Barcelona's squad was in a different stratosphere.

Napoli's roster, on the other hand, was entirely Gao Shen's creation.

He had discovered and developed his players from relative obscurity. While many of them had grown into formidable talents, Napoli's lineup still couldn't match Barcelona's in terms of star power.

Forget Messi or Henry even producing a forward of Eto'o's caliber was a distant dream.

Napoli's platform remained too small to elevate their players to global superstardom.

The football world knew that both Gao Shen and his best players were destined for bigger clubs eventually.

But that only made Gao Shen's achievements even more remarkable.

Taking Napoli, a club without stars or a deep financial backing to a Champions League final was, in itself, a footballing miracle.

Over the past three years, Gao Shen had mellowed. Gone was the fiery, combative coach who once challenged the world during his Real Madrid tenure.

Now, he was more measured.

More composed.

And today, he had nothing but praise for Guardiola and Barcelona.

Three years ago, Gao Shen had led Real Madrid to victory against Rijkaard's Barcelona.

Now, facing Guardiola's version of the team, he acknowledged how different things were.

"Both teams were and are incredibly strong," Gao Shen said.

"Rijkaard's Barcelona had more creative freedom. Their football was more spontaneous, more unpredictable. But Guardiola's Barcelona is more structured, more methodical. They apply greater pressure and have a stronger collective identity."

He smiled.

"In this Barcelona team, we can see the tactical philosophy Johan Cruyff began building more than 20 years ago."

Despite the widespread belief that Guardiola was his "student," Gao Shen downplayed the idea.

"Pep doesn't need me as a mentor. He's meticulous, passionate, and aggressive. But also… very cunning."

The room stirred at the word cunning.

Sensing the shift, Gao Shen quickly clarified.

"I don't mean that negatively. In football, being cunning is an asset, it shows intelligence and adaptability."

As for Napoli's chances, Gao Shen placed them at 50-50.

Then, with a self-deprecating laugh, he added:

"To be honest, I feel more pressure than Pep. This is his debut season as a head coach, and he's already achieved so much. Even if Barcelona loses tomorrow, everyone will still consider it a fantastic season for them."

"But if I lose? I'm going to hear about it for weeks."

The room erupted into laughter.

To the reporters, it was surreal.

Gao Shen was only 28.

Yet here he was, discussing his second Champions League final like a seasoned veteran.

…

The press conference wrapped up smoothly, but many journalists left feeling disappointed.

The Gao Shen of old might have delivered a few headline-grabbing statements.

Now, he was too measured. Too diplomatic.

One reporter sighed, "He used to be such a fun kid. But three years in Serie A turned him into a boring tactician."

"Exactly," another agreed. "Serie A kills all the good ones."

Gao Shen had no idea what the media were thinking.

After fulfilling his UEFA obligations, he walked toward the tunnel just as Guardiola emerged from the field, having completed Barcelona's training session.

"Hey, Gao!"

"Pep!"

The two greeted each other with genuine smiles and a warm hug.

The media, UEFA officials, and stadium staff all sensed the respect between them. Phones came out as people scrambled to capture the moment.

"Did you say anything bad about me in there?" Guardiola asked, half-joking.

Gao Shen laughed.

"Would I dare? You're the favorites, remember? I have nothing but respect for you guys."

Guardiola narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."

Gao Shen couldn't resist.

"Honestly, Pep, I already know what tactics you're going to use tomorrow. The question is, can you guess mine?"

Guardiola froze.

Just for a second.

But it was enough for Gao Shen to see the uncertainty flash across his face.

Guardiola was a tactical perfectionist, someone who obsessed over every detail.

Hearing Gao Shen's confident statement instantly planted a seed of doubt.

What if Gao Shen really had cracked his tactical plan?

Would he need to make last-minute changes?

Gao Shen nearly burst out laughing at the sight.

Come on, Pep—don't let me down. I'm counting on you to overthink this.

"Anyway, take your time figuring it out, brother. I've got other things to do."

Gao Shen patted Guardiola on the shoulder.

"If I win tomorrow, drinks are on me."

With a casual wave, he turned and walked away.

The moment he was out of sight, Gao Shen allowed himself a grin.

Would Guardiola resist the bait?

Or would the so-called "Emperor of Confusion" tinker with his tactics at the last minute?

Come on, Pep. I believe in you.

_______
Chapter 510: Big Trouble

Whether Guardiola will be troubled or forced to adjust his formation on the spot is something beyond Gao Shen's control.

What Naples can do and do well is their preparation.

The next morning, the team had a scheduled training session, though it was light and led by Pintus. It was a muscle-awakening routine conducted in the hotel gym.

As Pintus explained, it was all about activating the muscles to get them ready for that night's game.

Gao Shen trusted his expertise.

After the training, the players had a meal together, took a short rest, and then gathered in the conference room for their morning tactical meeting.

Gao Shen remained convinced that Barcelona would stick to their 4-3-3 formation.

With Abidal suspended due to accumulated yellow cards, all signs pointed to Guardiola deploying Puyol as the left-back.

Goalkeeper: Valdés.
Defense: Puyol, Piqué, Yaya Touré, Alves.
Midfield: Busquets dropping deep, with Iniesta and Xavi in central roles.
Forwards: Henry, Messi, Eto'o.

This was expected to be Barcelona's starting lineup.

Given the composition of their squad, even if Guardiola considered a tactical shift, he'd have few options.

Three-at-the-back?

Impossible. That would be suicidal against Napoli.

Over the past few weeks, Napoli's training sessions, tactical drills, and team discussions had all focused on countering Barcelona's setup and style of play. Gao Shen and his staff had drilled into the players every detail they needed to be aware of.

At this morning's meeting, Gao Shen primarily reinforced these key points while issuing his final instructions.

"This is going to be a tough, tough battle," Gao Shen said with certainty. "You need to be mentally prepared. This might be the hardest, most painful game you've ever played."

The players grew solemn.

The stronger the opponent, the more flaws they would need to expose and the more difficult the task would be.

No one knew what awaited them in the final, but everyone believed they had a shot at glory.

Of course, belief alone wouldn't win the game. Strength would.

Barcelona had been the strongest team in Europe this season, there was no disputing that.

But Gao Shen made sure his players understood something else: Napoli was just as strong.

"In my eyes," he declared firmly, "we're not inferior to Barcelona at all. In fact, we're even stronger!"

Coming from anyone else, these words might have sounded like blind bravado. But Gao Shen said it with such conviction that his players believed him.

Napoli had no superstars, no household names, not yet. But this belief came from their coach, a coach who had taken them to the Champions League final.

"But remember," Gao Shen continued, "our strengths differ from Barcelona's. We need to challenge them in areas where we have the advantage. Don't fight them in areas where they are strongest."

The players nodded. They got it.

"Also, understand that games like these are unpredictable. We might concede first or even go two goals down early. Things might go wrong in ways we can't anticipate. But no matter what happens, stay calm. Stay composed. Keep your heads clear and stick to our plan."

Most of Napoli's players were young, with tremendous physical attributes but limited big-match experience.

For them, this final was the biggest game of their lives.

It was like a student stepping into the exam hall for the university entrance exams: no matter how well you'd prepared, nerves were inevitable.

By contrast, Barcelona had seasoned stars: Messi, Xavi, Iniesta, Henry, Eto'o. They'd been here before, whether in Champions League finals, European Championships, or World Cups. Their experience would give them an edge in handling the game's intensity.

"Don't worry," Gao Shen reassured them, his voice steady. "I'll be right there, on the sidelines, as always, watching you, fighting alongside you!"

These final words sent a wave of calm through the squad.


---

After the tactical meeting, Gao Shen held brief one-on-one talks with players. With limited time, he kept each conversation concise and to the point.

There was one exception: Thiago Motta.

In a 4-3-3 system, the role of the deep-lying defensive midfielder is pivotal.

Look at Chelsea: Mikel's limitations were obvious, yet manager after manager kept him as their holding midfielder.

Or Manchester United: Carrick had clear strengths and weaknesses, but Ferguson always entrusted him with that role.

The reason was simple: this position sits at the crossroads of attack and defense.

Modern football had blurred the lines between traditional roles. Players had to be flexible, adaptable.

Take Messi, for example. What was his position exactly? False nine? Winger? Attacking midfielder? Shadow striker? He could do it all, dropping deep to build play or leading the line.

In Napoli's tactical plan, Thiago Motta was crucial. His task: track Messi when he dropped deep, monitor Iniesta's forward runs, protect the defense, and help cover Alves' attacking surges down the right flank.

It was a monumental responsibility.

Gao Shen knew Motta had the tactical intelligence to handle it. His worry lay elsewhere.

Motta was a product of Barcelona's La Masia academy. He was a self-proclaimed Barça fan. Rumors suggested he might return to Camp Nou that summer.

Could he maintain his composure and commitment against the club that shaped him?

To lighten his workload, Gao Shen instructed Biglia to drop deeper and assist Motta when necessary.

Still, the uncertainty lingered.

Motta had battled injuries throughout his career. After leaving Barcelona, he'd bounced between clubs—Atletico Madrid, Genoa, Inter Milan—without ever reappearing on Barcelona's radar.

Right now, Busquets is still young, Yaya Touré lacks consistency, and Thiago Motta is in his prime. His skills and attributes happen to combine elements of both Yaya Touré and Busquets. How could Barcelona not be tempted?

That's exactly why Gao Shen found himself facing this dilemma.

He had spoken with Thiago Motta several times before. This time, their conversation largely revisited the same themes, with Gao Shen mainly trying to gauge Motta's current mindset.

After all, at 26, Motta was already something of a "veteran" with years of top-level experience. His mood seemed positive and composed.

"Don't worry, boss," Motta reassured him with a calm smile. "Once I step onto the pitch, nothing will affect me."

He paused, then added with a chuckle, "Like you said before, even if I do want to go back to Barcelona someday, wouldn't it be more meaningful to return as a Champions League winner? And even better, a champion who defeated Barcelona to win it, right?"

Motta laughed openly as he finished speaking.

Gao Shen listened attentively, his eyes fixed on the midfielder's face. He studied Motta's expression and gaze, searching for any signs of hesitation or doubt. Only when he was convinced that the player's confidence was genuine did he finally relax.

Thiago Motta held a deep sense of respect and gratitude toward Gao Shen.

Ironically, his downfall had begun with Gao Shen's Real Madrid defeating Barcelona. Yet his career revival also stemmed from the same man.

When Barcelona discarded him, leaving his career in limbo, it was Gao Shen who extended a lifeline—offering trust, patience, and the right medical care. Step by step, Gao Shen helped Motta regain his confidence and reach his peak once more.

Without that faith, there would be no Thiago Motta standing here today.

Suddenly, Motta's eyes turned red with emotion. His voice caught in his throat.

"Boss!" he said, his tone trembling slightly. "Tonight, I'm not just playing for the team, the fans, or even myself. I'm playing for you. For everything you've done for me these past two years. No matter what, I'll give everything to win that Champions League trophy for you!"

The raw sincerity of those words hit Gao Shen hard.

He forced a smile, shook his head, and pointed at Motta. "You're getting sentimental on me now?" he said with mock disapproval.

Motta burst out laughing, wiping at his eyes.

Some emotions didn't need long speeches or dramatic gestures. Between men, some things were better left unsaid.

But at that moment, Gao Shen was genuinely reassured.

"Go out there and show them!" He clapped Motta on the shoulder, his grip firm.

…

After Motta left, Gao Shen sat in silence for a moment.

His chest tightened, and a faint soreness stung his eyes.

It wasn't just Motta's words that affected him. It was everything—this team, these players, and the memories of the past three years.

He was human. He had emotions.

From day one, he'd poured his heart into this project. Slowly, piece by piece, he'd built Napoli into what it was today.

And now, it was all coming to an end.

Tonight was his final game as Napoli's coach. Motta's words had brought that reality crashing down on him.

The sadness and reluctance surged through him but only for a moment.

He quickly steadied himself. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and forced the emotions aside.

This wasn't just any match. It wasn't just his last game. It was the Champions League final.

And because of everything they'd built together over the past three years, Gao Shen knew one thing:

They had to win.

That afternoon, after the lunch break, Gao Shen received a visit from an unexpected but very important guest.