Antonio Pintus?
Lorenzo quickly searched his mory, and his eyes lit up with a shock of recognition. In his previous life, Pintus was the legendary unsung hero behind Real Madrid's historic Champions League three-peat. He was the "Sergeant," a fitness coach whose devilish training thods were whispered about in locker rooms across Europe.
His physical training made even the world's most conditioned superstars complain. In the future, when Karim Benzema first participated in Pintus's regi, the Frenchman reportedly vomited after just twenty-five minutes and was forced to withdraw. But it was precisely because of this "devilish" training that a group of veterans, many nearing thirty-five or forty, could still outrun twenty-year-olds in the ninetieth minute of a final.
"Pintus hasn't been poached by Madrid yet?" Lorenzo realized.
In this tiline, Pintus's legendary connection with Real Madrid was still three years away. Having just finished his contract with Palermo in Italy, he was a free agent. Lorenzo couldn't help but smile at the irony; he had just intercepted a pillar of the future "White Legion" to build his own path at Barcelona.
"Your fra is good, and your muscle density is promising," Pintus said, stepping closer and squeezing Lorenzo's triceps with a clinical, iron-like grip. He nodded approvingly but then circled the boy, his sharp eyes evaluating every joint.
"But you are still too light," Pintus continued, shaking his head. "According to your height and the profile your father described, your ideal weight should be eighty-five kilograms. You look like a winger; I need you to look like a mountain."
Lorenzo nodded, unfazed. "I've already added six kilograms in the last week. But my goals are specific. I need to maintain my explosive speed while significantly increasing my jumping reach and my shot power."
His heading had always been his weakest link and a striker's jumping ability was the foundation of aerial dominance. Furthermore, to fully utilize the Batistuta "Batigol" template he had just acquired, he needed his leg muscles to generate cannon-like force.
Pintus smiled, a look that most players found terrifying. "Jumping power relies on the gastrocnemius, the muscle behind the calf. I have a set of isotric and plyotric thods specifically for that. As for your shot power, that requires a chain of power starting from the core and moving through the quadriceps and hip flexors. I will create a plan for you."
Then, Pintus's smile widened. "But before we touch a ball, you must survive the conditioning. We start with the 'routine': ten thousand ters with the ball after two hours of high-intensity aerobic drills."
Lorenzo felt a cold shiver. In the professional world, "Little Beast" Rolu Lukaku had once described Pintus's routine as "legalized torture."
For the next two weeks, the diterranean sun rose and set to the sound of Lorenzo's heavy breathing and the relentless whistle of Antonio Pintus.
Every morning at dawn, Pintus arrived at the villa with a detailed physiological chart and a suitcase of avant-garde training equipnt. The training was brutal. Lorenzo's muscle definition began to change, hardening into the sculpted, statuesque form required by the 100% Drogba integration.
Pintus was as professional as he was strict. He knew the risk of injury was highest during a bulk-up, so he monitored Lorenzo's soleus and gastrocnemius muscles with pathological obsession. He was determined to ensure Lorenzo's foundation was indestructible.
As Lorenzo's attributes steadily climbed, the world of football outside the villa was in a state of absolute chaos. The sumr transfer window of 2013 was proving to be one of the most explosive in history.
The "Prince of San Siro," Kaká, was returning to AC Milan from Madrid. Mario Götze had shocked the world by leaving Dortmund for their arch-rivals, Bayern Munich. In the Premier League,
Manchester United was transitioning into the post-Ferguson era with the arrival of Marouane
Fellaini, while Manchester City countered with Fernandinho.
But the real earthquake was in La Liga.
Barcelona had officially presented the Brazilian prodigy, Neymar, for 57 million euros. Across the divide, Real Madrid had responded by shattering the world record, signing Tottenham's Gareth Bale for an astronomical 103 million euros.
The dia was already framing the upcoming season as the "War of the Frontlines." Real Madrid had the "BBC" - Bale, Benzema, and Cristiano. Barcelona had ssi and Neymar, but they lacked a traditional "Number Nine" after David Villa's departure to Atletico Madrid.
The question remained: Who would lead the line for the Blaugrana? Would ssi remain the False Nine, or would Tata Martino find a new solution?
With only two weeks remaining before the La Liga curtain-raiser, Martino working closely with the first-team staff made a decisive move. He needed to test the new front three in a high-intensity environnt.
"We've finalized the preseason schedule," the assistant coach reported, entering the office at the Ciutat Esportiva. "We have offers from Manchester United, Arsenal, and PSV. But the Boss wants a team that will actually press us."
Martino didn't hesitate. "Contact Jürgen Klopp. We're playing Borussia Dortmund."
Dortmund was the runner-up of the previous Champions League, the team that had dismantled Real Madrid 4-1 in the semi-finals. They played a style of "heavy tal" football, relentless, aggressive, and physical.
"The frontline needs an overhaul," Martino said, his gaze fixed on the player reports. He looked at the file for Lorenzo, who had just spent two weeks under Pintus's regi. "I want to see if the boy can survive a tackle from Humls and Subotić. If he can, then the number nineteen jersey is his to keep."
The stage was being set. The "Beast" was ard to the teeth, his weight was climbing toward the 85kg target, and the Batigol cannons were loaded. The preseason friendly against the giants of Germany would be the world's first look at the new king of Barcelona.
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