Whether Guardio will be troubled or forced to adjust his formation on the spot is something beyond Gao Shen's trol.

  What Naples do and do well is their preparation.

  The m, the team had a scheduled training session, though it was light and led by Pintus. It was a muscle-awakening routine ducted iel gym.

  As Pintus expined, it was all about activating the muscles to get them ready for that night's game.

  Gao Shen trusted his expertise.

  After the training, the pyers had a meal together, took a short rest, and then gathered in the feren for their m tactical meeting.

  Gao Shen remained vihat Bara would stick to their 4-3-3 formation.

  With Abidal suspended due to accumuted yellow cards, all signs poio Guardio deploying Puyol as the left-back.

  Goalkeeper: Valdés.

  Defense: Puyol, Piqué, Yaya Touré, Alves.

  Midfield: Busquets dropping deep, with Ia and Xavi iral roles.

  Forwards: Henry, Messi, Eto'o.

  This was expected to be Bara's starting lineup.

  Given the position of their squad, even if Guardio sidered a tactical shift, he'd have few options.

  Three-at-the-back?

  Impossible. That would be suicidal against Napoli.

  Over the past few weeks, Napoli's training sessions, tactical drills, and team discussions had all focused on tering Bara's setup and style of py. Gao Shen and his staff had drilled into the pyers every detail they o be aware of.

  At this m's meeting, Gao Shen primarily reinforced these key points while issuing his final instrus.

  "This is going to be a tough, tough battle," Gao Shen said with certainty. "You o be mentally prepared. This might be the hardest, most painful game you've ever pyed."

  The pyers grew solemn.

  The strohe oppo, the more fws they would o expose and the more difficult the task would be.

  No one knew what awaited them in the final, but everyone believed they had a shot at glory.

  Of course, belief alone wouldn't win the game. Strength would.

  Bara had beeroeam in Europe this season, there was no disputing that.

  But Gao Shen made sure his pyers uood something else: Napoli was just as strong.

  "In my eyes," he decred firmly, "we're not inferior to Bara at all. In fact, we're even stronger!"

  ing from anyone else, these words might have sounded like blind bravado. But Gao Shen said it with such vi that his pyers believed him.

  Napoli had no superstars, no household names, not yet. But this belief came from their coach, a coach who had takeo the Champions League final.

  "But remember," Gao Shen tinued, "our strengths differ from Bara's. We o challehem in areas where we have the advantage. Don't fight them in areas where they are stro."

  The pyers hey got it.

  "Also, uand that games like these are uable. We might cede first or even go two goals down early. Things might g in ways we 't anticipate. But no matter what happens, stay calm. Stay posed. Keep your heads clear and stick to our pn."

  Most of Napoli's pyers were young, with tremendous physical attributes but limited big-match experience.

  For them, this final was the biggest game of their lives.

  It was like a student stepping into the exam hall for the uy entrance exams: no matter how well you'd prepared, nerves were iable.

  By trast, Bara had seasoars: Messi, Xavi, Ia, Henry, Eto'o. They'd been here before, whether in Champions League finals, European Championships, or World Cups. Their experience would give them an edge in handling the game's iy.

  "Don't worry," Gao Shen reassured them, his voice steady. "I'll be right there, on the sidelines, as always, watg you, fighting alongside you!"

  These final words sent a wave of calm through the squad.

  ---

  After the tactical meeting, Gao Shen held brief one-oalks with pyers. With limited time, he kept each versation cise and to the point.

  There was one exception: Thiago Motta.

  In a 4-3-3 system, the role of the deep-lying defensive midfielder is pivotal.

  Look at Chelsea: Mikel's limitations were obvious, yet manager after manager kept him as their holding midfielder.

  Or Maer United: Carrick had clear strengths and weaknesses, but Ferguson always entrusted him with that role.

  The reason was simple: this position sits at the crossroads of attad defense.

  Modern football had blurred the lines between traditional roles. Pyers had to be flexible, adaptable.

  Take Messi, for example. What was his positioly? False nine? Winger? Attag midfielder? Shadow striker? He could do it all, droppio build py or leading the line.

  In Napoli's tactical pn, Thiago Motta was crucial. His task: track Messi when he dropped deep, monitor Ia's forward runs, protect the defense, and help cover Alves' attag surges down the right fnk.

  It was a moal responsibility.

  Gao Shen knew Motta had the tactical intelligeo ha. His worry y elsewhere.

  Motta roduct of Bara's La Masia academy. He was a self-procimed Bar?a fan. Rumors suggested he might return to Camp Nou that summer.

  Could he maintain his posure and itment against the club that shaped him?

  To lighten his workload, Gao Shen instructed Biglia to drop deeper and assist Motta when necessary.

  Still, the uainty lingered.

  Motta had battled injuries throughout his career. After leaving Bara, he'd bounced between clubs—Atletiadrid, Genoa, Inter Min—without ever reappearing on Bara's radar.

  Right now, Busquets is still young, Yaya Touré cks sistency, and Thiago Motta is in his prime. His skills and attributes happen to bine elements of both Yaya Touré and Busquets. How could Bara not be tempted?

  That's exactly why Gao Shen found himself fag this dilemma.

  He had spoken with Thiago Motta several times before. This time, their versatiely revisited the same themes, with Gao Shen mainly trying to gauge Motta's current mi.

  After all, at 26, Motta was already something of a "veteran" with years of top-level experience. His mood seemed positive and posed.

  "Don't worry, boss," Motta reassured him with a calm smile. "Once I step onto the pitothing will affect me."

  He paused, then added with a chuckle, "Like you said before, even if I do want to go back to Bara someday, wouldn't it be more meaningful to return as a Champions League winner? And eveer, a champion who defeated Bara to win it, right?"

  Motta ughed openly as he finished speaking.

  Gao Shen listetentively, his eyes fixed on the midfielder's face. He studied Motta's expression and gaze, searg for any signs of hesitation or doubt. Only when he was vihat the pyer's fidence was genuine did he finally rex.

  Thiago Motta held a deep sense of resped gratitude tao Shen.

  Ironically, his downfall had begun with Gao Shen's Real Madrid defeating Bara. Yet his career revival also stemmed from the same man.

  When Bara discarded him, leaving his career in limbo, it was Gao Shen who extended a lifeline— trust, patience, and the right medical care. Step by step, Gao Shen helped Motta regain his fidend reach his peak once more.

  Without that faith, there would be no Thiago Motta standioday.

  Suddenly, Motta's eyes turned red with emotion. His voice caught in his throat.

  "Boss!" he said, his torembling slightly. "Tonight, I'm not just pying for the team, the fans, or even myself. I'm pying for you. For everything you've done for me these past two years. No matter what, I'll give everything to win that Champions League trophy for you!"

  The raw siy of those words hit Gao Shen hard.

  He forced a smile, shook his head, and poi Motta. "Yettiimental on me now?" he said with mock disapproval.

  Motta burst out ughing, wiping at his eyes.

  Some emotions didn't need long speeches or dramatic gestures. Between men, some things were better left unsaid.

  But at that moment, Gao Shen was genuinely reassured.

  "Go out there and show them!" He cpped Motta on the shoulder, his grip firm.

  …

  After Motta left, Gao Shen sat in silence for a moment.

  His chest tightened, and a faint soreness stung his eyes.

  It wasn't just Motta's words that affected him. It was everything—this team, these pyers, and the memories of the past three years.

  He was human. He had emotions.

  From day one, he'd poured his heart into this project. Slowly, piece by piece, he'd built Napoli into what it was today.

  And now, it was all ing to an end.

  Tonight was his final game as Napoli's coach. Motta's words had brought that reality crashing down on him.

  The sadness aance surged through him but only for a moment.

  He quickly steadied himself. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and forced the emotions aside.

  This wasn't just any match. It wasn't just his st game. It was the Champions League final.

  And because of everything they'd built together over the past three years, Gao Shen knew ohing:

  They had to win.

  That afternoon, after the lunch break, Gao Shen received a visit from an ued but very important guest.