Mourinho's Step-by-Step Approach: Diomande and the 130 Million Euro Contract at Real Madrid

Tuesday afternoon, I stood at the fence of Valdebebas training ground as the floodlights began to glow. The main session had ended long ago, assistants were collecting cones and balls, but Ousmane Diomande stayed behind with a video analyst. He reviewed every move on the tablet, then walked to the penalty spot, striking three consecutive shots into the left corner. Alone, with no one watching, only me and a few security guards. No one clapped. He nodded to himself, packed his boots, and left. That moment said nothing about tactics, but it said everything about a boy carrying the weight of 130 million euros who has not started a single match for Real Madrid. The context of this story began on Saturday night, when Real Madrid thrashed Malaga 4-0 at the Bernabéu. A perfect result, a flawless performance. But in the stands, people were not only talking about Vinícius's goals or Bellingham's orchestration. They were talking about Diomande, the Ivorian defender worth between 120 and 130 million euros, remaining on the bench and only coming on in the final minutes. Across the first three matches, he played 20, 15, and 30 minutes respectively. Those numbers are not form; they are a tactical declaration. The post-match press conference became a drama I have witnessed many times in 25 years of following Mourinho. When a journalist asked about Diomande not showing his value, he did not answer directly. He looked to the right, where the communications officer stood, and asked: "How much did we pay for him? 120 or 130? I do not remember how much we paid anymore?" The room fell silent for two seconds, then erupted in laughter. Mourinho repeated the question again and again, before a journalist replied: "130, for sure." He nodded, left the hall, then came back to needle the journalists further. That performance made everyone forget the original question: why is the most expensive defender in history not starting? From a distance of 1.5 meters, I saw something the cameras could not capture. When Mourinho spoke about Diomande, his voice softened noticeably. He used words like "humble" and "hard-working," words he rarely uses for big stars. He said the boy "must take things step by step" and that he "listens to me and to his team-mates." To me, this is not diplomatic talk. It is the signal of a teacher trying to protect a student from the weight of expectation. Because a 21-year-old boy, fresh from Sporting Lisbon, arriving at one of the most demanding clubs in the world, does not need any extra pressure beyond the expectation of 130 million euros. I have seen this before. In 2026, I wrote about Carlos Soler, a 20-year-old practicing free kicks alone after a session at Mestalla. No one watched, no one clapped, but he stayed until dark. The next day, he made his debut and played as if his whole life had been waiting for that moment. Diomande has the same eyes, the same habit of staying late after everyone has left. But there is one major difference: Soler was a product of Valencia's youth academy, raised in the atmosphere and language of the city. Diomande is a stranger in a strange land, like I was 45 years ago when I left Vietnam for Madrid, alone, with two suitcases and an unspoken belief that football would show me the way. The truth the Spanish media is missing is that Real Madrid already has a settled defense. Rüdiger, Alaba, and Militão have played together for seasons, understanding each other to the point of not needing to look when handling situations. Inserting Diomande into that framework is not a mere technical decision; it is a decision about dressing-room chemistry. Integration cannot be measured by statistics, but it can be felt in how a new defender calls his team-mates' names when the ball comes to him, in how he moves without the ball, in how he reacts when possession is lost. Mourinho, who always prioritizes defensive solidity above all else, understands this better than anyone. To him, a 4-0 win over Malaga is the perfect opportunity to give Diomande the safest minutes possible, under the lowest pressure possible. I have followed teams for five decades, and I recognize this: Mourinho's tactics always start in the dressing room, not on the tactics board. When he says "step by step," he is not only talking about Diomande, but about how he is rebuilding the trust of the entire squad. A young player handed a starting spot too early can disrupt the balance of the whole system. But a young player who waits patiently, who is brought on in easy matches, will be grateful to his coach and ready to fight for him. That is why I am not worried about Diomande. I would worry if he started too soon and made a mistake, was torn apart by the media, and turned upon by the very people who are demanding he start today. There is a financial contradiction that no one in the press room dared to state plainly. 130 million euros for a young defender, however talented, is a market-breaking price. The previous record belonged to Joško Gvardiol at around 90 million euros when he moved to Manchester City. That amount breaks the normal valuation of a position that does not create goals, does not generate direct revenue. Mourinho's "120 or 130" question is not just a joke. It is an implicit admission that he does not know exactly what the club spent, and that perhaps he was not involved in the recruitment decision. When a coach says "I do not know how much we paid," it reflects an unspoken gap between him and the club's recruitment department. But that gap is not what I want to exploit in this article. Because the real story lies where cameras cannot reach: in the transition of a young player leaving a familiar environment to arrive at a new football culture, a new language, a new way of life. I remember my own first months in Valencia, knowing no Spanish, not knowing how to order a beer at the bar. Each morning waking up with homesickness. Diomande is probably experiencing the same thing, but under the lights of the Bernabéu, before tens of thousands of eyes, with a 130 million euro tag on his back. The difference between us is that I could leave the training ground without anyone noticing, while every step he takes is scrutinized under the media's microscope. I sat down with 12 Valencia fans one night in Qatar, as they discussed Carlos Soler's future. They did not analyze tactics or statistics. They talked about missing the days when Soler was a kid zigzagging through the backyard, and feared that when he left, a piece of their childhood would go with him. Real Madrid fans probably do not have that feeling with Diomande yet, because he is still a question mark. But I believe if they are patient, they will be rewarded. Because from those afternoons at the training ground, I see that Diomande is not a fragile player. He is someone who knows how to take responsibility for himself. On Thursday's session, I stood a little closer to the fence. Diomande stayed behind again. This time, he and Antonio Rüdiger practiced defending against crossing situations. Rüdiger demonstrated three times, said something in English, then let Diomande execute. The first tackle left a gap, Rüdiger shook his head and smiled. On the third attempt, Diomande read the situation correctly, cut out the ball in front of Rüdiger, and both slapped hands. I have never seen Rüdiger slap hands with a young player in an extra session. That is a small signal, but for a beat reporter like me, it is the most important signal of the week. There is an external misunderstanding that Diomande's benching is a sign of failure. But the truth is the opposite: it is a sign of a long-term plan. Mourinho, a coach once criticized for not giving youth a chance, is doing something he knows better than anyone: building confidence before building tactics. In 2026, he did the same with Kurt Zouma at Chelsea, introducing the 19-year-old in easy matches, and Zouma became a mainstay center-back. History can repeat itself in Madrid, if people let it. On Saturday night, after the Malaga win, I walked through Cibeles square with a few close friends who are Real Madrid supporters. They asked me: "What do you think about Diomande?" I did not answer with tactical analysis or statistics. I told them about the afternoon I saw him practicing penalties alone, and how he talked to himself when the ball hit the net. They laughed, not fully understanding what I meant. But I do not choose sides. I only record how beer falls and the curses of a generation. And I think about how, a year from now, the people questioning Mourinho today will sit in that same bar, raising a glass to Diomande in some final. Will they remember that they once doubted him? Perhaps not. Because belief, like football, is only seen clearly when looking back from behind. The lesson I have learned from half a century in this profession is: never judge a signing after just three matches. Look at the quiet training sessions, the conversations without cameras, the hand slaps with older team-mates. Elite football is built not only on tactics but also on patience. And Mourinho, no matter how hated he is, remains one of the masters of that patience. He does not need a player to start immediately. He needs a player ready to wait, to learn, and to fight when the moment comes. Diomande, with those solitary afternoons at the training ground, is proving he deserves that expectation. And when that day comes, I hope I am still here, standing at the fence, recording the moment he touches the grass with a perfect tackle.