"To be honest, I still haven't quite co to terms with it. We gave it everything— and my players alike. The result is hard to accept."
"Glorious in defeat? No, no. A loss is still a loss. We have to face the gap between us and the strongest team in football right now. Mourinho has done an outstanding job at Real Madrid. He's built a historic team—just like Guardiola did a few years ago."
"We're confident we can win our last two group matches. These two gas against Real Madrid weren't total losses for us. I believe my players gained confidence from them."
"And of course, I hope we can face Real Madrid again—preferably in next sumr's Champions League final. I just hope by then Li Ang won't be this insanely good again."
In the post-match press conference, Klopp had already composed himself. Despite Dortmund's shaky position in the group, he clearly believed they could still advance with two matches left.
And no one thought he was bluffing.
Dortmund had proven their worth.
Both clashes with Real Madrid had ended with only one-goal losses. Their tactical setup, energy, and collective fighting spirit had earned widespread admiration.
In terms of exposure, Klopp and his young squad had cashed in massively.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say that after this doubleheader, Dortmund's stock in European football had skyrocketed.
anwhile, Ajax and Manchester City fans, having watched both Group D matches, found themselves in a strange limbo—hopeful, but anxious.
They were still in it. But could they really scrape out wins against this Real Madrid and this Dortmund?
Those doubts would linger until the next round of group fixtures on November 21.
At that point, a single result might resurrect hope—
—or crush it entirely.
Group D was spiraling into glorious chaos.
※※※
The morning after the match, Real Madrid and Dortmund graced the front pages of nearly every major European sports outlet.
Their all-out shootout. Dortmund's brave showing. The tactical drama. It had beco the epicenter of football discussion.
In comparison, Real Madrid only sparked the initial wave of dia buzz. After that, most of the focus shifted to Dortmund.
Other than Madrid fans celebrating their early qualification, most neutrals were more fascinated by Dortmund's display.
Because ever since Real Madrid dethroned Barcelona with a string of statent victories last season, they'd taken over as the kings of the narrative.
Winning beca normal. Dominance beca boring.
There was no elent of surprise left. They were the new Barça.
And just like Barça a few years ago, Madrid had entered that phase where wins weren't news—only losses were.
Especially important losses.
But based on their current form, disappointnt wasn't coming any ti soon. At least not before the quarterfinals.
After the win over Dortmund, Mourinho was elated.
The victory was sweet, yes—but what made him happiest was that his squad had finally clicked.
It had been nearly three months since the season started. And now, at last, they looked like themselves.
Mourinho had spent the early stages rotating heavily, managing players' fitness, adjusting training load, and grinding out results.
It had been effective—but never comfortable.
The clash with Dortmund had been a test.
A trial to see what Madrid could really handle.
They passed.
The attack had firepower. The pace was blistering. The defensive line held firm under pressure.
The coaches' conservative predictions had been shattered. Madrid's ceiling was higher, and their floor was stronger than expected.
Confidence rippled through the staff.
Now, they could approach the next phase of the season with peace of mind.
With qualification secured, the last two group matches would be for rotation.
A chance to give the youth and new signings a full 180 minutes.
The regular starters? They could return to one match per week in La Liga.
Unless you were Cristiano Ronaldo.
If he wanted to play? If he felt fine? Mourinho would let him.
Just like last season, Mourinho supported Ronaldo's pursuit of personal stats—as long as it didn't hurt the team.
Their relationship was strong. Not quite as tight-knit as with Li Ang or Essien, but definitely close.
Inside the squad, the mood was excellent.
Except when it ca to the Madrid dia.
Despite the win and top-of-the-group status, a few local outlets—outlets that were supposedly Madrid's mouthpieces—were stirring trouble again.
Instead of celebrating, they ran editorials praising Mourinho for "honoring Real Madrid's attacking tradition."
What did that an?
It ant "finally playing attractive football."
A backhanded complint.
Florentino had literally gone on record, pledging full support to Mourinho.
And yet, Marca and AS were back to their old tricks—stirring up tired debates, throwing subtle shade.
To be fair, Mourinho's temperant had softened since the treble-winning season.
He'd gone out of his way to avoid conflict with Madrid fans and the press.
When the dia attacked his defensive setups, he didn't bite back.
He hadn't been this patient even with the English or Italian press.
But this?
This really pissed him off.
He could tolerate cheap shots about his personality.
But not about his football.
Never about his tactics.
Keep pushing, and the "Special One" would re-erge—unfiltered, uncompromising, and ready for war.
Back at Valdebebas, Mourinho kept calm during training. But everyone in the squad could tell—
the pressure was building.
At first, when they saw Mourinho acting calm as ever during training, the players thought he was going to let it slide once more.
But on November 10th, after watching Mourinho's pre-match press conference ahead of La Liga's 11th round, the entire Real Madrid squad was stunned.
Mourinho had snapped.
He tore into the Marca reporter who, yet again, had asked whether he planned to play more attacking football.
The coach unleashed a verbal barrage so direct, so fiery, that it instantly stole all the attention away from the actual ga and drew the full force of fan and dia scrutiny.
"Stop asking brainless questions! If you think my tactics are wrong, take off your press badge, sit in my chair, and prove you can do better!"
"I don't know why this crap keeps getting recycled over and over again!"
"We're a month away from possibly lifting our sixth trophy of the year—so don't bring your shallow ideas here to question my training thods and tactical choices!"
"Maybe I really did make a mistake by winning so many trophies last season. Maybe I should've lost the Champions League final and the Copa del Rey, and only won La Liga. Then your argunts would actually make sense!"
"I regret not saying this earlier: your job is to disrupt Real Madrid's preparation! You're traitors! Absolute traitors within the Real Madrid camp!"
If Marca and AS had been poking the bear, certain Mourinho wouldn't bite, this was the mont they realized they'd lit the match on a powder keg.
Mourinho didn't just throw a match—he tossed the whole damn torch and then poured gasoline on the flas.
From a neutral fan's perspective, many found his tirade cathartic and satisfying.
After all, what coach could stay silent while being backstabbed by his own "house dia" while standing on the verge of a historic six-trophy season?
But from the viewpoint of Real Madrid's players and board, it was a nightmare.
When Florentino Pérez heard what Mourinho said, he reportedly blurted out in a eting:
"Madman!"
The players were shocked.
Li Ang, however, was... not.
He found it completely logical.
This had been a ticking ti bomb, waiting to explode since Marca and AS first started criticizing Mourinho's tactics back in 2011.
The war of narratives had been inevitable.
Because Mourinho would never change his tactical style.
Let's be honest—top-tier coaches like him don't change for anyone.
Can you picture Guardiola parking the bus and playing on the counter?
Or Bielsa suddenly deciding 1-0 wins were the dream?
If that happened, then maybe Mourinho could soften up.
But that's not reality.
At least not in Li Ang's mory—not in 2023.
All those legendary managers stubbornly stayed their course.
So expecting Mourinho to back down now?
Delusional.
And now the dia battle was well and truly on.
Marca and AS wouldn't take being called "traitors" lightly. They would strike back hard.
And so Real Madrid fans, who had previously held back their frustrations, would now find a platform for their discontent.
It wasn't unreasonable—everyone loves attacking football, and fans naturally want to be entertained.
But they had underestimated Mourinho's pride.
Just like with Ronaldo—if you gave him constructive feedback gently, he'd listen.
Challenge him head-on?
He'd erupt.
The only good news?
Despite their shock, Madrid's players still backed Mourinho.
There were no fractures in the locker room. No conflicting interests.
They all had the sa goal: win more trophies.
As long as that remained true, the team's unity was unbreakable.
So when La Liga's 11th round matchday arrived, with Madrid traveling to face Levante, the ga beca the single most-watched event in European football that weekend.
And not just in Spain—dia from across Europe had their eyes on Valencia.
Locally, Real Madrid's fan base was starting to fracture.
Most still supported Mourinho—especially with a six-title season in sight.
Aesthetics could wait.
But a small segnt, amplified by dia spin, began to grow louder.
So voices were exaggerated. Others were planted.
And so, the match was drowned in noise before it even kicked off.
Florentino was nervous.
He had been furious with Mourinho the day before. But now, with the whole football world watching, he worried that the players' form would suffer.
And then...
The match started.
Mourinho's response?
Classic. Ruthless. Mourinho.
Real Madrid played pure counterattacking football.
Not once did they push high and try to dominate possession.
They could've crushed Levante with direct pressure—but Mourinho refused.
Li Ang and Essien, both starting, were everywhere.
The match's stop-start tempo frustrated the dia on the sidelines.
They knew what this was.
Mourinho was making a statent.
"We can attack. But we don't have to. And we'll still win."
And win they did.
Ronaldo and Higuaín, both in top form, buried two counterattack goals.
Final score: 2–0.
Not flashy. Not overwhelming.
But utterly controlled.
Levante never had a chance.
And as the match ended, relief washed over Florentino and most of the club's supporters.
But of course, Mourinho couldn't help himself.
At the post-match presser, he once again lashed out:
"Marca and AS care more about selling papers than they do about Real Madrid's results!"
The explosion had only just begun.
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