My Footballing Legend

What followed was a week of brutality.

Not the typical preseason brutality of endless running or laps which would earn shouting. Laurence had something different in mind. More structured. More a version of something, that in 2010 barely existed anywhere outside the upper-echelon academies in Spain.

He began to mould Tenerife's training in the image of something he had admired from the future; Hansi Flick's Barcelona in the 2024-25 season - fluid positioning, tactical triggers, fullback rotations, and pressing as a shared approach, not an individual gamble. But it had to be simplified. The Tenerife squad did not have Pedri, Gavi, or João Cancelo. They had veterans and potential - many with no top-level experience.

But they had one thing going for them - belief. Laurence was relentless with the repetitions. Defenders were structured in triangles, working through rotation ahead of pressure and anticipation to promote quick progression. Midfielders carried out similar drills in small spaces, one-touched combinations, starting as static and progressing to moving phases of play. Every player was assigned an individual responsibility - not to play freely, but to react to space.

He introduced ideas such as the "third man run"; shadow pressing; diagonal wide overloads. Not in theory, but by doing. Repeatedly.

Víctor stood off to the side of every session, arms crossed, shaking his head at times, and rarely said a word.

"It looks like you are making a clock," he said one day.

"A machine," said Laurence. "Created to punch above its weight."

He even pushed Neymar, making him track back, link up, and understand when and why to drift in. To Neymar's credit, he didn't push back. He didn't always get it—but he tried. Ramos looked sharper. Natalio was making the right runs. Even the defenders—Bertrán, Luna, and Hidalgo—seemed to get more comfortable with the structure.

But not Casemiro. 

It wasn't that he didn't work. He worked hard. To put it bluntly, he worked his socks off and is a consummate worker who asks the right questions. But he was still reactive on the pitch, coming into duels too early, following the ball too often instead of blocking passing lanes. At training, he was often a second too late in rotating to cover when the team lost the ball. 

Laurence knew what Casemiro could become. But not yet. 

Not until the first test.

The first preseason friendly was on the slate against Atlético Paso, a semi-pro side from the third tier, brought in to open Tenerife's summer with something less intimidating than facing off against La Liga pros. For Laurence though, this game was important. It was the first on-field test of the system. The first glimpse of whether the process was taking root—or whether he was overreaching and flying too close to the sun.

In the small team meeting before kick-off, Laurence wrote the starting XI on the whiteboard.

He passed over Casemiro.

Instead he replaced him with Ricardo León in the defensive midfield position—steady, calm, a little slow, but he was tactically sound. Alongside León, he chose Kitoko, the Belgian-Congolese midfielder, who used his physicality and defensive discipline to play it safe. Casemiro would sit on the bench.

As Laurence was writing the team down, Casemiro stared straight a head, his expression unreadable. He didn't say a word. But he didn't leave, and the silence held long after everyone else had departed the locker room.

Laurence approached him quietly outside the locker room.

"Listen," he said plainly. "You're not being dropped. You're being protected."

Casemiro looked up. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," Laurence said. "But you don't need to prove that today. You'll get your moment when the system needs your chaos—not when we're still learning to stay upright."

The boy nodded, jaw clenched. "Okay, míster."

_____

The match itself began under a warm dusk sky, with around 2,000 fans scattered across the small stands. It was meant to be a light affair—something to stretch legs and greet supporters.

However, it was a challenge for Laurence. 

The team had pressed well in the first twenty carnations. Natalio made two good diagonal runs, one resulting in a near goal from a chip from Ricardo León. Neymar and Omar had rotated within the high press, causing confusion with the Paso fullbacks. Kitoko had made three important recoveries, keeping the defensive line high. For longer periods, it felt like the players were finally beginning to catch on.

The goal came in the 33rd minute.

A brilliant passing move - Neymar cutting in, sliding miscued with Natalio, who held of his marker and slotted the ball into the bottom corner.

1 - 0 Tenerife.

Laurence did not cheer, folds his arms tighter and watched the convexity of the lines whilst trying to better picture how Paso were planning to respond after conceding.

In the second half, the changeover broke the flow of the game - Tenerife was unlucky from a corner - a lapse in marking. But Laurence was not so concerned about theto him score. He was suddenly concerned instead about what the players did after losing the ball, about how quickly they reacted when Neymar was isolated, about whether his full backs were tucking in or taking too long to stay wide.

When the match ended in a 1–1 draw, the fans applauded mildly. But Laurence remained at the tunnel, eyes narrowed.

It was working.