Chapter 94: Shared Ownership

Convincing Pirri was a crucial first step, and now that José had his support, things became much easier.

When José and Pirri personally visited Samuel Eto'o, the Cameroonian forward didn't hesitate for long before agreeing to join Mallorca. One was the coach who had restored his confidence last season, and the other was the mentor who had brought him from Africa to Spain. With both of them inviting him, Eto'o would have considered the move even if things were going well at Real Madrid—let alone now, when he was struggling to get any playing time.

With Eto'o on board, the next step was negotiating with Real Madrid, which José handled personally. Madrid wasn't opposed to the idea of selling him—Eto'o had no place in their squad, and rather than letting him rot on the bench, they might as well make some money off of him.

The negotiations were led by Jorge Valdano, Real Madrid's newly appointed sporting director, a former Argentine international and one-time star striker who had played alongside Maradona. But as far as José was concerned, Valdano was much easier to deal with than Pirri.

After all, a decade later, another José—José Mourinho—would outmaneuver Valdano in Real Madrid's internal power struggles. José took that as a good omen.

"Mallorca and Real Madrid have done business before," Valdano said with a polite smile. "I believe we can keep the loan terms the same as last season. What do you think, Mr. José?"

You want us to keep developing your player for free? Not a chance.

José smiled and shook his head. "No, Mr. Valdano. This time, I'm here to buy Eto'o, not to take him on loan."

"A permanent transfer? I'm afraid that's not an option. Eto'o is still young, and we see him as an important part of our future strike force."

José almost laughed. An important part of the future? No club treats a player they genuinely believe in like this—keeping him on the bench all season with barely any appearances.

"Forgive me for being blunt, but if Real Madrid truly believed in Eto'o, he wouldn't have spent half a season playing just two matches. His style of play doesn't fit Madrid's system, and keeping him here will only waste his potential. He's about to turn 20, and at this stage of his career, what he needs isn't training with star players—it's actual game time."

Valdano wasn't moved by José's reasoning. He didn't care about Eto'o's development—his job was to maximize Real Madrid's financial gain.

José decided to take another approach. "A player who isn't getting minutes and is growing increasingly frustrated won't be a positive influence on the squad. It's better to move him on than to let him become a distraction. Madrid's goals this season are ambitious, and the team can't afford unnecessary disruptions. If Morientes or Raúl gets injured, Madrid has plenty of young forwards to call upon—like Portillo, who's been scoring for fun in the youth teams. A content backup is always better than a disgruntled one. Besides, Mallorca needs a striker after losing Diego Tristán."

That argument made Valdano think. He was well aware of Madrid's financial struggles. Under Lorenzo Sanz's previous presidency, the club had accumulated over $100 million in debt. Sanz had been a reckless spender, even using club funds to cover his personal gambling losses—classified as "diplomatic expenses" in the club's accounts. When Florentino Pérez took over, he had to pour even more money into signing Luís Figo, further worsening Madrid's financial situation. To stabilize the club, Pérez was already negotiating with the city government to sell Madrid's training ground for a cash injection. If selling Eto'o could bring in some quick money, it might help—if only slightly.

Moreover, Pérez's position wasn't completely secure. He had only narrowly defeated Sanz in the election, and though signing Figo had won him support, selling Fernando Redondo had enraged many fans. The only way for Pérez to cement his authority was by winning Madrid's first league title in three years. And for Valdano, his job security was tied to Pérez's. If Pérez stayed in power, Valdano would remain as sporting director—but if Pérez fell, someone like Pirri could easily take his place.

"I need to discuss this with the president," Valdano said after some thought.

"Of course," José replied with a smile.

Valdano moved quickly, consulting Pérez and getting input from coach Vicente del Bosque before returning with a counteroffer.

"We're willing to sell Eto'o," Valdano said, "but on one condition."

"Go ahead."

"We will only sell 50% of his rights to Mallorca. Additionally, we want the option to buy back that half before any future transfer."

José cursed internally. That damn co-ownership rule again. Why hasn't it been abolished yet?

Real Madrid's stance on Eto'o had always been ambiguous. They didn't use him, but they also refused to let him go completely. As a result, Eto'o would spend four years at Mallorca under a shared ownership arrangement. It wasn't until the summer of 2004—when the Spanish FA finally scrapped the co-ownership rule—that Real Madrid was forced to sell him outright. By then, Mallorca couldn't afford to buy the remaining half, and Madrid, having used up their non-EU player slots, couldn't retain him. This allowed Barcelona to swoop in and sign Eto'o for just €25 million—a bargain for a world-class striker.

Now, Madrid was trying to play the same game again. José had expected it, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. A player should be fully committed to his club—not stuck in limbo between two teams.

But he had no choice. For now, Mallorca would have to accept the deal—but José would do everything in his power to prevent history from repeating itself.

"Fine, we can agree to co-ownership," José said after a moment. "But I want to add one condition."

"I'm listening."

"The co-ownership lasts for only two years. After that, if both clubs want to retain Eto'o, we settle it with a sealed-bid auction. Whoever bids higher gets him. If Real Madrid decides to sell their half, Mallorca gets the first right to buy—and the price cannot exceed $10 million."

That caught Valdano off guard. He had assumed José would negotiate over the transfer fee, not the terms of ownership.

After thinking it over, Valdano decided it was reasonable. Two years was plenty of time to evaluate Eto'o's development. If Madrid still didn't rate him by then, it would be no great loss.

"I'll need to run this by the president and the coach," Valdano said before stepping away to make a phone call.

He returned quickly with the final decision. "We accept."

With the major points settled, the rest of the negotiations were handled by lower-level staff. Within a day, the deal was finalized: Mallorca would pay $4.5 million for 50% of Eto'o's rights. He would play for Mallorca for the next two seasons, with the club covering his wages. After two years, either club could bid for full ownership, or Madrid could sell their half to Mallorca for no more than $10 million.

Valdano found it odd that José had insisted on capping the buyout price. Does he really think he'll be able to buy Eto'o for less than $10 million in two years?

But he shrugged it off. The deal still seemed to favor Madrid. If Mallorca didn't want Eto'o, Madrid could buy him back for a reasonable price. If both clubs wanted him, Madrid could outbid Mallorca. Either way, the club would make a decent profit.

Negotiating with Eto'o was even easier. He signed the contract without hesitation and was eager to leave for Mallorca immediately.

José had won this round. But he knew the real challenge lay ahead—making sure Mallorca didn't lose Eto'o the way they did in his previous timeline.