Handsome position is not easy

Chapter 42
When Jose found Mourinho, he was sitting on the steps of the Sporting Lisbon parking lot in a daze, his black curly hair even covered with a thin layer of dust, and he looked like he had been here for a while.

Seeing Jose approaching, Mourinho rubbed his forehead, trying to make his expression a little more natural, but it was in vain. No matter how relaxed his facial muscles were, he couldn't conceal his extremely bad mood.

"You know all about it?" Mourinho squeezed his teeth fiercely across his cheeks, his expression looked a little grim.

Jose spread his hands and said helplessly: "I didn't know, a newspaper was blown to me by the wind..."

"Damn!" Mourinho angrily punched the air, sighed and sat back, "Although it's dramatic, I have to admit that that news is not worth a newspaper's money at all, you seem to earn It's..."

"You should be with Mr. Robson now."

"I wanted to do this, but Mr. Robson didn't want to. He told me to think about it."

Mourinho covered his nose with his hands together, and his heavy breathing sounded like a bellows in a blacksmith shop. Jose knew he was very sad, so he didn't say a word.

This kind of sadness is not due to the distress of impending unemployment, but purely because of the empathy for those who are both teachers and friends.

……

In the UEFA Cup, Sporting Lisbon challenged FC Salzburg away. When there was only half a minute left in stoppage time, Mourinho threw his body back to the bench. The players shook their bodies, but couldn't salvage anything.

Robson still had a bitter smile on his face, and the long wrinkles on his cheeks appeared a little deeper under the reflection of the light. He patted Mourinho on the back, wanting to let this little boy who was still aggrieved Translate to ease the mood.

"Relax, Jose, it's nothing to lose away from home, we'll win back when we go home." The old man's voice was still as stable as usual, with a kind of magical power that calmed the heart.

"Damn, damn low-level mistakes, or two, ruined the game, this is unreasonable!" Normally, Mourinho may no longer be angry, but today he is a bit unusually irritable.

Robson smiled and patted Mourinho's head lightly, as if he wanted to straighten his curly black hair, but he withdrew his hand after feeling the slightly embarrassed look in the little translator's eyes.

When the whistle blew at the end of the game, Robson hugged the coach of Salzburg, walked towards the visiting team stand under the respectful eyes of the other party, and bowed down to apologize to the fans.

The noisy crowd fell silent at the moment, giving applause to the beloved old coach. It wasn't until Robson walked back to the aisle that he booed the Sporting Lisbon players who were leaving the field.

Mourinho was sitting on the empty bench, the last fighter also sank in the cheers of the home fans, alone surrounded by tens of thousands of people, at the moment he was extremely lonely, but he was addicted to smoking in loneliness The thrill of hate.

……

On the plane back to Portugal from Austria, the entire team fell into silence, and even the staff put on blindfolds to take a nap.

Mourinho is holding a thick pile of scouting reports, which is his extra work this week, and he will hand them over to the old coach for review after sorting out, so he doesn't want to waste this short return trip time.

Robson was covered with a thin blanket, and his body had long since prevented him from resting in clothes like a young man. The hum of the engine was not too loud, but it was enough to destroy the old man's fragile sleep.

The radio suddenly sounded on the plane, and the noisy radio waves almost woke up everyone. Before the confused players muttered a few words, Sosa Sintra's voice occupied the entire cabin.

"Sporting Lisbon club notice, now I officially announce that Mr. Bobby Robson will no longer be the head coach of the team with immediate effect, and the staff who belonged to the club are waiting for the next step. Sporting Lisbon thanks Mr. Robson for his great efforts Contribute and wish him many more successes in his future career..."

Mourinho's hand flipping through the document suddenly froze, his expression quickly changed from surprise to anger, his face turned pale for a while, and his shoulders began to tremble.

He immediately got up and squatted next to Robson's seat. Looking at the questioning eyes of the old man, Mourinho managed to suppress a forced smile.

"Chairman Sintra is a little dissatisfied with the team's away results. He is criticizing everyone, saying that this kind of performance is very unworthy of the club's training..."

Robson tried to lift his sleepy eyelids, his lips moved a few times, but he still didn't say anything in the end.

Listening to the repeated broadcast and the chattering of the players, Mourinho's nose twitched in anger. He tried to restrain his volume, and slowly said to the staff standing by the broadcast: "Close Lose."

"But, the chairman is still..."

"I told you to turn it off! You... your teacher is still sleeping! Do you hear me, turn off that damn broadcast for me!" Mourinho got up abruptly and growled towards the other side in Portuguese, Every word seems to be forced out of the teeth.

Frightened by his ferocious gaze, the staff turned off the chattering radio, the players also quickly shut up, and the entire cabin suddenly fell silent.

Robson patted his clenched fist lightly, and Mourinho quickly squatted down again. Seeing that the old man just shook his head, he didn't say anything more, tucked the blanket and sat back to his seat .

Looking at the scout report on the small table, there are detailed information on all the opponents in the next month, which I personally collected bit by bit from various places, but now it has nothing to do with me. With some heavy breathing, Mourinho couldn't calm down for a long time.

……

Bobby Robson stood in his office, admiring the wind-torn sunset outside the window. The chair symbolizing power was pushed aside because it was in the way of the window and it was not high enough to sit on. .

The iron-blue clouds were dyed red by the setting sun, and the sun slanted towards the side of the sky like a knight who fell from his horse with an arrow. Rein in the bundle of wind that rolls Shuyun.

At this moment, this is a landscape that only belongs to him.

Nothing can be taken away from my eyes, so no one can take away my eyes from looking at this piece of land.

"Jose, do you have any plans for the future?"

Mourinho shook his head.

"You can stay at Sporting Lisbon first, as long as you stay away from me, the unlucky old guy, you should be fine."

"Sir, you understand my thoughts, and I am willing to follow you."

This time it was Robson's turn to shake his head.

"Little Jose, you have to think about it, there are not many opportunities to make choices in life. Besides, I will stay in Portugal for a while..."

Mourinho asked with some doubts: "Sir, aren't you going back to England?"

"It's embarrassing to say that my contract was forcibly terminated by Sintra, and my wages have not been paid yet. I have to stay in Portugal, otherwise the club will most likely not be in debt."

"This is illegal! As long as they dare to do this, I will sue them!"

Robson looked at his assistant who was filled with righteous indignation, and smiled with some relief: "It hasn't reached this point yet... You know, the winter in Portugal is very warm, so I can go shopping with my wife, play golf, and go to the beach It’s also good to bask in the sun and go to see the children.”

"Sir, I've been to England a lot, and Scotland too, and I think I can afford a job there."

"Jose, as I said, think again. Mathilde is a good girl. Even if you are ready, ask her. Leaving the motherland is not an easy task."

Mourinho nodded sadly and said nothing more.

"The person who replaced me as the head coach is Carlos Queiroz. You should know him. A friend of Sosa Sintra, he led Portugal to win two World Youth Championships a few years ago."

"The guy who was eliminated by Italy in the qualifiers? Huh, he acts tough, and he probably doesn't like me..."

Robson pressed Mourinho's shoulders hard twice, forcing him to hold back the conversation.

"Come back and sit at home with Mathilde, Elsie misses your wife's cooking skills, that is, she can always think about the stomachs of our two old people..."

……

"Rodriguez, this is the indifference of the football industry, you know? The away loss to Salzburg is because of that goalkeeper, the one signed by Sosa Sintra himself, if it weren't for his two low-level mistakes , How could we lose?" Mourinho clenched his fists and said, his eyes narrowed.

Jose sighed and said softly, "It's useless to complain about Sintra now. When you meet such a chairman, there is nothing you can do. Mr. Robson looks away, so don't be too persistent."

"One? Is it one?! When I was ten years old, my dad got the phone call that he was fired in the middle of the Christmas party. You know how bad it felt?"

Seeing that Mourinho was about to be overwhelmed by anger, Jose was also helpless. He couldn't hold back this seemingly elegant but strong Setubal.

"Jose, why are you here? I asked a lot before I found you..."

A voice came from the entrance of the parking lot. Mourinho looked up and swallowed the anger welling up in his throat.

"Tami, why are you here?"

"I don't want to get involved in your work either, but if you have something to say, you should tell me what time it is. Look at the watch for yourself? I don't want to call home. It made me worry for so long..."

Mourinho raised his wrist and looked at his watch, his eyes widened a bit, he swallowed, and stood up in embarrassment.

"Me, I'm at the club to take care of things... I'm sorry for the lateness."

"I know, and I called Mrs. Robson. We will visit them in a few days. Let's go?"

Mourinho nodded and turned to Jose again.

"I'll analyze what you said for you when I get back. I want Yang to have a good environment, and I'll let you know when it's done."

Jose smiled and waved
　I have been thinking about this episode for a long time, staring at the information and reports I found in a daze. Many details are true, and many of them are in my imagination. Won't disturb a great soul resting in peace.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)