Chapter 70: Days on the Substitute Bench

Passing through the gates of the training ground, Marcelino entered. Though his footsteps echoed loudly, they seemed not to disturb the player on the pitch, who continued to dribble with the ball. His style was not as flamboyant as Neymar’s, but his movements were deft and practical.

Choosing a seat at random on the coaches’ bench at the edge of the field, Marcelino settled in to watch the player’s training. The drills were simple, focusing almost entirely on offensive skills: dribbling from half midfield, shooting from outside the penalty area, precision strikes and lofted shots from the edge of the box. His technique was impeccable, and his control over angles and timing was superb.

The black-haired player was unmistakable—this year’s first signing for the club, the newly crowned Asian Footballer of the Year, David Dai.

In truth, David Dai hadn’t figured in Marcelino’s original recruitment plans; the club had pressed him in. Yet Dai’s performance against Barcelona had quickly won Marcelino over, and he soon welcomed Dai’s arrival.

“Is this young man really just twenty-one? What a bargain!” Marcelino’s eyes lit up as he watched David Dai on the field.

Marcelino excelled at tactical design and planning, though his in-game decision-making was merely average; his talent for spotting promising players was keen.

Even though David Dai had yet to play an official match for Villarreal, his potential for growth was his most striking trait. A player like him, with a season or two of development at Villarreal, could undoubtedly become a first-rate attacker in La Liga.

“Impressive, his potential is enormous!” Marcelino smiled at the sight of David Dai. This young man from the East was truly remarkable—arriving so early for training, so diligent! With such natural talent and a tireless work ethic, it would be an injustice if he didn’t succeed.

Just from the fact that Dai had come early to train, Marcelino’s impression of him rose another notch.

If all went well, David Dai should make Marcelino’s squad list for the next match.

What Marcelino didn’t know was that David Dai had never behaved this way at his previous club, Guangzhou Evergrande. Though he often stayed for extra training after regular sessions, he had never arrived early.

In fact, Dai had come early to the training ground simply because he had no friends at Villarreal, and boredom drove him to the pitch to expend his excess energy.

Standing up, Marcelino brushed imaginary dust from his trousers and left the training ground at a leisurely pace.

Even as Marcelino departed, David Dai never once turned around deliberately, but he knew Marcelino had noticed him.

“Ah, fortune in misfortune!” Dai thought to himself, feeling pleased after scoring another long-range shot from nearly forty meters.

Though this “chance encounter” hadn’t been carefully planned, Dai had heard that Marcelino always arrived early the day after a match to review the previous day's game.

It had been nearly a month since David Dai last played a match—since the Club World Cup third-place game, he had only trained individually to keep in form, uncertain how much of his match sharpness remained.

The nearest fixture was the upcoming league match against Real Betis in two days.

Whether he would play, he could not be sure.

...

“Hello, sir,” David Dai called out to the assistant coach in front of him. More than a week had passed since he joined the team, yet he still couldn’t remember every assistant coach’s name. “Could you give me a dossier on Real Betis and a summary of their matches from the first half of the season? You know, I’ve just arrived, so I haven’t prepared yet.”

“Alright...” The assistant coach glanced at Dai, then casually fetched a document from nearby—what had just served as padding for luggage turned out to be the Real Betis player profiles and match summaries.

“Thanks!” Though he felt a bit awkward, David Dai smiled politely and accepted the folder.

On seeing the Real Betis squad list, Dai was taken aback—Betis was no weaker than last season’s Guangzhou Evergrande. If they faced Betis, Evergrande would have been seriously threatened.

But then, Dai realized with a smile that he was no longer with Evergrande.

At Villarreal, Betis could hardly be considered a formidable opponent, which explained the relaxed mood throughout the club.

David Dai continued reading about Betis: since their founding, they had won a single La Liga title, long ago before the Second World War, and had mostly lingered in the league’s lower half.

In the 2013-14 season, Betis finished last in La Liga and were relegated to the second division. After one season, they returned as champions, rejoining La Liga this season.

Yet, before this round, Betis had managed only 5 wins, 5 draws, and 9 losses; in their last eight games—six league matches and two Copa del Rey fixtures—they had failed to win. Betis currently stood fifteenth in the league, just five points above the relegation zone.

So, after eight winless rounds, Betis announced the dismissal of their head coach, Pepe Mel, two days before the match. Mel became the seventh manager fired in La Liga this season.

For this fixture, Marcelino continued with his regular starting lineup. Though David Dai made the eighteen-man squad, he remained on the bench.

Dai felt no resentment at not starting. After all, any player joining a new team after just five days would not be expected to start unless injuries were rife; no coach would rush a new signing onto the field.

Even if you were Pele and Maradona combined, you’d need to learn the team's tactics and build chemistry with your teammates—this wasn’t a national team thrown together for a short tournament.

Moreover, Dai had risen from the bench at Evergrande, and he firmly believed that even at the highest level of world football, La Liga, he could shine twice as brightly.

So, even on the bench, Dai joked and laughed, taking in Villarreal’s home ground, the Estadio de la Cerámica.

Just five kilometers from the stadium lay the beautiful Mediterranean Sea; it held 22,000 spectators, though tonight barely over ten thousand attended.

“It’s nothing compared to Tianhe Stadium,” Dai muttered in Mandarin, unconcerned whether anyone could understand him.

While Dai was still distracted, the starting lineups for both teams were announced:

Villarreal’s starting eleven:

Goalkeeper: Areola

Defenders: Gaspar, Musacchio, Ruiz, Marin

Midfielders: Dos Santos, Trigueros, Bruno Soriano, Suarez

Forwards: Soldado, Bakambu

Real Betis starting eleven:

Goalkeeper: Adan

Defenders: Piccini, Pezzella, Cabrera, Vargas

Midfielders: Petros, A. Ruydiaz, Cadi, Fabian, Cejudo

Forward: Ruben Castro

“Hmm, Bruno’s playing in midfield?” Dai noticed the change. “What’s Marcelino up to?”

Playing away after a recent managerial change and eight winless games, Betis packed their defense from the start, clearly aiming to hold out for a draw and take a point home.

In the third minute, Cabrera challenged Soldado for a header, climbing all over him; the referee awarded a free kick. Bruno Soriano drove a low shot, which bounced off the turf and went out for a goal kick.

Villarreal dominated possession. In the seventh minute, Bruno Soriano delivered a fine pass to Dos Santos on the flank, but the latter lost control.

Three minutes later, Ruiz made a mistake in the back, but Vargas’s awkward dribble quickly handed the ball back to the home side.

In the eighteenth minute, Suarez sent a clever pass to Dos Santos, who cut in from the right and squared to Bruno Soriano. A. Ruydiaz, tightly marking Villarreal’s captain, quickly cleared the ball out.

Betis’s patched-up defense gave Villarreal plenty of space. In the twenty-first minute, Gaspar easily dribbled forward, feeding Dos Santos, whose cross was too close to the keeper and caught by Adan.

A minute later, Soldado passed to the advancing Bakambu, whose shot from six yards missed the target, though the linesman’s flag was up for offside.

Villarreal continued to control the game. In the thirty-second minute, Dos Santos used his skill to cut in from the right, passing to Soldado, who promptly flicked it to the onrushing Bruno Soriano, but the defenders intercepted.

With dominance on the field but no breakthrough, Marcelino, who had been seated on the bench, rose and walked to the sideline.

David Dai’s eyes suddenly sparkled.