Chapter 162: The Value of Experience

Gelsenkirchen is a small city of only 260,000 people, yet it boasts a stadium that holds over 50,000 spectators. Known originally as AufSchalke—though later renamed the Veltins-Arena—José still preferred its original name, which exudes a grandeur rarely matched elsewhere.

For domestic league matches, the stadium accommodates more than 61,000 fans (including standing areas). In European competitions, however, only seated tickets are allowed, reducing capacity to roughly 53,000–54,000. It's remarkable that a city of just over 200,000 residents can support such a large venue; for comparison, Turin, home to Juventus, has over a million people, yet their stadium typically holds only 40,000–50,000 fans.

What's truly astonishing is that AufSchalke is almost always sold out—about one in every five residents attends every match. This level of support is unique, as German fans are known for their loyalty. Even clubs in small cities, like Dortmund with 600,000 inhabitants, boast stadiums that hold 80,000; Wolfsburg, with a population of 120,000, regularly fills a 30,000-seat arena, and similar examples exist at Leverkusen and even Hoffenheim.

Bundesliga match tickets are among the cheapest in Europe—far less expensive than those in La Liga or Serie A, and nowhere near the sky-high prices of the English Premier League. Although English fans are known for their passion—and their clubs excel at extracting revenue—German football is seen as affordable, making it a true mass-market entertainment. This widespread accessibility has had a significant impact on clubs like Mallorca.

When the 53,000 strong crowd erupted into synchronized chants as the players took the field, the overwhelming noise immediately put pressure on the Mallorca players. Although they had played in massive stadiums like Camp Nou or the Bernabéu before, Schalke's supporters, with their raw passion and volume, were something else entirely.

"These Germans really have big lungs," José remarked with a laugh, turning to Drogba on the bench.

Drogba, however, looked troubled. Since his brief appearance in the Spanish Super Cup, he hadn't gotten any playing time in four league matches and two Champions League games—while Klasnic had enjoyed several minutes on the pitch.

"What's wrong, Didier? You should be enjoying an atmosphere like this. Situations like these don't come around every day," José said, patting Drogba's shoulder. With Natal still in Argentina, José had little time for anything else.

"Boss, I haven't played in ages," Drogba replied, his face etched with frustration.

José then asked, "How's your shooting coming along? I remember yesterday you managed less than 70% accuracy in a hundred shots."

"That's a big improvement—I used to be under 30%," Drogba defended himself.

"70% without any pressure isn't enough," José countered. "On the pitch, you rarely have the luxury of an unguarded shot or ample time to control the ball before taking a shot. You need to reach a point where, no matter where you are or the circumstances, your body instinctively knows the target and the best way to shoot. A top striker must have that natural urgency to shoot rather than waiting for the perfect moment. Until you develop that, I'm not going to play you—except in very special circumstances."

Drogba fell silent, understanding that José's tough love was meant to help him improve. Missing out on game time after his long recovery from an injury at Le Mans was disheartening.

After glancing at Drogba, José turned his focus back to the match with a small smile.

Drogba was different from Eto'o. When José brought Eto'o on loan, the Cameroonian already had his technique honed thanks to Real Madrid's excellent youth system—he just needed the right tactical environment and more match experience. Drogba, at 23, hadn't received as much targeted training, and much of his potential still lay dormant. Rushing him into games now might actually hinder his development, unlike Eto'o, who had already gathered plenty of match experience. For the time being, José planned to work on Drogba's fundamentals before giving him more playing time.

Of course, there would be occasions when José would use Drogba, but not right now.

As the deafening chants filled the air, the match began.

Schalke 04's supporters roared with even greater intensity than usual. Their team was in deep trouble in the Champions League, and the players responded by showing extra determination. A third consecutive loss would virtually eliminate them from group-stage contention.

Right from the whistle, Schalke launched a ferocious attack.

Andreas Möller, even amidst a generation filled with stars like Effenberg, Häsler, and Matthäus, had never been overshadowed. Möller had won the Champions League, Bundesliga, and UEFA Cup at club level, and lifted both the European Championship and World Cup with his national team. Though he was aging, he remained the central figure in Schalke's midfield.

Möller was the epitome of a classic German midfielder. His iconic celebration from Euro '96—standing with his hands on his hips—became legendary. Despite a decline in physical attributes, his experience and tactical intelligence only grew, making him the most decorated player in Schalke's recent history.

Mallorca, too, boasted a veteran in their captain, Nadal. After Engonga faded from the first team, Nadal was entrusted with the armband and had previously won the Champions League with Barcelona. An experienced veteran is an invaluable asset.

Schalke's Möller made the first move. Receiving a pass in midfield, he dribbled elegantly past Karaze, his movements as crisp as ever. The Schalke fans erupted with cheers. Although Möller's peak was during his time at Dortmund—where he won two league titles and a Champions League—his transfer to Schalke immediately endeared him to their supporters.

Karaze pursued relentlessly, and Motta moved to intercept—one of the players José had specifically told his team to watch. Möller, never one to try to dribble past multiple opponents, instead played a precise pass to another German international, Berme.

As Berme controlled the ball, Agali and Sand began making runs into the box. In this match, a speedy Belgian forward, Mpomsa, was benched by Schalke's Dutch coach Stevens, who opted for a twin striker setup with Agali and Sand to exploit wide areas.

Although Mallorca's center-backs were tall and strong, Agali stood at 1.90 meters and Sand possessed excellent heading skills—it wasn't just height that mattered in aerial duels.

Möller's pass was impeccable. Berme received the ball comfortably, and Campano surged forward. Berme executed a quick one-two with Campano and broke free down the left flank. Campano tried to catch up, but Berme's speed left him trailing. Despite Campano's relentless pursuit, Berme maintained his lead and continued advancing. Under pressure from Campano's chase, Berme, who had planned to drive into the box, instead sprinted toward the touchline and, after a brief glance into the penalty area, delivered a decisive cross.

Campano almost got to the ball in time—what a close call! The ball spun into the box; Agali drew Van Buyten's attention, while Sand made a late run, leaping high to meet the ball with a powerful header—an unmarked chance. However, just as the ball was airborne, a player lunged in from the side and blocked the header. Nadal quickly realized he couldn't stop Sand's effort, so he raced back and intercepted the header with timely positioning—a clear display of his vast experience.

The ball struck Nadal's body and rolled out to the touchline. Berme attempted to continue the attack, but Campano, having recovered quickly, intercepted the ball and launched a clearance with pace.

"Good job!" José stood up from the bench and applauded, relieved that the dangerous attack had been neutralized.

Indeed, having a seasoned veteran on your side is priceless. Schalke had Andreas Möller, and Mallorca had Nadal—both with accolades and skillsets that rival each other. Despite his age, Nadal remained an indispensable pillar in Mallorca's defense.