Pato walked into the locker room with his head down, and the rest of the players could only look at him helplessly.
He became famous only to get involved in a scandal right after—this guy really knows how to stir things up!
The entire European media had their eyes on him, yet he still had no sense of boundaries and went partying at a nightclub.
Did he not know the club strictly prohibits drinking and going to bars during the league season?
"I didn't drink! I swear I didn't! It was just soda!"Pato looked aggrieved.
Suker was pulling on his training pants and snapped, "The media doesn't care whether you drank or not. If they think you drank, then you drank."
Suker was sure that Pato had been targeted by paparazzi.
Suker himself had taken more than a year of back-and-forth warfare to finally shake off the paparazzi. He even flipped one of them to his side.
Kaká was the epitome of discipline in his personal life. As for Pato—Suker could only assume that a dog can't stop eating poop.
"It was Barbara's friend's birthday yesterday," Pato said with a grin. "After the party, they suggested going to a bar—I couldn't say no. But I didn't think I'd get photographed."
"You didn't know the paparazzi were watching you?" Suker asked.
Kaká added, "Didn't your agent warn you?"
Pato shook his head again.
"Fire him!" Suker waved dismissively. "What's the point of an agent like that?"
Pato whispered, "He went to Germany to negotiate a brand endorsement... He did call me this morning though."
Judging by Pato's expression, Suker already knew the outcome wasn't good.
"They lowered the offer?" Suker asked.
Pato nodded, looking discouraged.
Kaká sighed. In his view, Pato was still half a kid—not mentally mature yet.
After joining Milan, his salary skyrocketed, and he started landing big endorsements. It was easy to lose himself.
But he needed to resist temptation.
"But I did use some of the endorsement money to hire a private training team," Pato said. "I really don't party like the media says."
Suker: "The problem is—no one believes you."
Kaká: "Just be more careful from now on. Stay out of bars and similar places. If you keep performing well, these rumors will fade."
Suker added, "Even if he's careful, it's useless."
Kaká paused, then couldn't help but grin.
The real problem was Barbara.
But she was Berlusconi's daughter—the team's general manager dating a player, and the so-called "Princess of Milan". Who could actually control her?
Most likely, Ancelotti was the most frustrated of all.
Sure enough, when training began, Ancelotti's expression was grim.
Ancelotti preferred to be friends with his players, and he rarely handed out punishments. But this time, he made an exception.
Pato was publicly scolded in front of the entire team.
Pato kept his head down, unable to even look up.
Suker understood—Ancelotti wasn't just mad at Pato. He was also mad at Barbara.
But again, what could he do?
Unless Ancelotti wanted to quit.
As punishment, Ancelotti suspended Pato for one match to teach him a lesson.
He didn't even bother making up an excuse. Instead, he went straight to the media and said, "I don't like undisciplined players."
This scared the hell out of Pato.
But Suker believed that Ancelotti wasn't just warning Pato—he was sending a message to Berlusconi.
"Get your daughter out of my team!"
Berlusconi moved quickly—after all, this mess was caused by his own daughter.
He didn't like Pato, but he also couldn't just ignore Ancelotti's feelings.
So, Barbara was reassigned from team manager to an administrative position within the club, completely removed from the first team.
That move eased some of Ancelotti's frustration.
Still, he was annoyed with Barbara.
Even during lunch breaks, she would always stick to Pato, sometimes even disrupting training.
Ancelotti didn't like Barbara.
Berlusconi didn't like Pato.
No way that relationship would end well.
On April 6, in Matchday 32 of the league season, Pato wasn't even included in the squad list.
In that match, AC Milan hosted Cagliari at home.
Ancelotti stuck to his "fake double-core" system featuring Suker and Kaká.
This kind of high-energy tactic could be figured out eventually, so while it still worked, Ancelotti used it for all it was worth.
Suker and Kaká took turns tearing into Cagliari's defense.
Even though the opponents used a 4-5-1 defensive formation, they were still overwhelmed by the constant pressure.
Cagliari's defenders could barely breathe with Suker and Kaká pressing.
The pressure was immense.
When both players simultaneously broke into the box, the entire defensive line became rigid.
If they marked Kaká, Suker slipped through.If they marked Suker, Kaká got free.
When they finally managed to lock both of them down, Ronaldo shook his big hips and had a field day.
Milan racked up over 20 dangerous shots in the full 90 minutes.
The final score: AC Milan 4–0 Cagliari.
After this match, many people said AC Milan looked like they were back to their peak.
Their offensive strength was terrifying.
But others argued this was just a tactical choice, and the reason Milan attacked so well was because they couldn't defend.
And the person who raised this point was José Mourinho!
"Did that Portuguese guy see through our weakness?"Ancelotti asked, puzzled.
Veteran assistants Costacurta and Tassotti looked at each other in surprise.
They only understood the intricacies of this tactic because Ancelotti explained it to them. Left to their own devices, it could've taken them forever to figure it out. For original chapters go to novel⦿fire.net
Yet Mourinho had somehow grasped its essence just by watching.
Of course, they weren't sure if Mourinho was bluffing.
After all, that guy was known for stirring the pot before matches, provoking opposing players, and belittling the other team.
Still, Ancelotti had to be cautious.
If Mourinho really figured it out, then did Guardiola also see through it?
But Ancelotti quickly shook his head.
Different perspectives lead to different conclusions.
Mourinho analyzed from a defensive standpoint, so it was easy for him to find flaws and trace them back to the core tactic.
But Guardiola didn't have that mindset.
Even though they had only faced off once, Ancelotti knew Guardiola was a pure offense-driven coach.
Meanwhile, in Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain—
Guardiola rubbed his head, brows tightly furrowed.
He was watching replays of Milan's matches, trying to find the root problem through minute details.
He believed that Mourinho wasn't bluffing.
That guy would never say anything that might come back to slap him.
If Mourinho spoke up, he likely understood the key issue.
But no matter how hard Guardiola tried, he just couldn't figure it out.
He didn't think he was lacking in tactical knowledge...
But he simply couldn't see it.
"Forget it," Guardiola shook his head.
Whether he understood or not wasn't the point.
Once they were back at Camp Nou, he was confident they'd beat AC Milan.
Without the wet pitch, without Milan's home advantage, could they really stop Barcelona's passing and build-up play?
Guardiola believed in his players.
Even though they were down by two goals after the first leg, he was confident they would turn the tide at home.
On April 9, AC Milan arrived in Barcelona, Spain.
This was a world-famous city known for its urban planning.
From above, the city looked like a grid of square-shaped "mouth" characters (口).
Barcelona's greatest pride was the modernist genius architect Gaudí, whose masterpieces made this Mediterranean gem even more dazzling.
Now, tension filled the air.
From fans to players, Barcelona was brimming with confidence.
They believed they could overturn the first-leg loss and win at home.
They were determined to drag AC Milan off the throne.
The night before the match, Catalan newspapers ran passionate headlines:
"Forward, Barcelona! This is a journey to reclaim the crown!"
These reports reflected the local media and fans' total belief in victory.
But for AC Milan fans, the tone felt extremely uncomfortable.
The night sky darkened. Thick clouds gathered, casting a gloom over the city.
Bolts of lightning snaked across the sky like spider webs.
Soon after, torrential rain poured down.
It was Barcelona's first spring rain—and a fierce one at that.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, Suker watched the rain fall in sheets and muttered:
"Keep bragging, huh? Even the heavens are fed up with you."