Gunning for Greatness: My Life: With an introduction by Jose Mourinho by Mesut Özil

Author:Mesut Özil [Özil, Mesut]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2017-04-20T04:00:00+00:00

12

A new world

Your job is never to be satisfied

Even before my transfer I knew that Real Madrid was the biggest club in the world. But as an outsider you have no idea of its true dimensions. You have to feel Real to understand it. You need to be part of this crazy entity. Everyone talks about its great history, but these are just words. You only understand the true greatness when you’re part of this monstrous club, which swallows you up entirely.

When I put on the white jersey for the first time I felt such a thrill. I was actually shaking and even slightly terrified at how overwhelming it felt. It’s not just any old piece of material you’re slipping on and taking off again. The moment it touched my skin I realised the responsibility that now lay on my shoulders. The commitment I’d made.

When I first stepped onto the training ground I was in total awe. Put next to the facilities of Bremen and Schalke, there’s absolutely no comparison. The gym boasts many more machines than players – you don’t have to queue or wait a single second for a teammate to finish. Everything is in abundance, the perfect conditions. A footballer’s paradise, if you like.

One of the major advantages at Real is that you can train in total peace and seclusion. There are no distractions. There aren’t any journalists who get wind of squabbles during training and then milk them as much as they can. Nor is there any ‘spying’ during the closed training sessions. At FC Bayern, for example, paparazzi always hang around, taking photographs through holes in the tarpaulin in an attempt to discover training secrets. Reporters permanently stand by the protective screen, listening to the instructions the coach is shouting. None of that is possible at Real Madrid as the ground is too remote. None of the tactical ruses the manager rehearses can slip out. At Real you train as you do at Arsenal: in secret.

Real also owns a hotel inside the training complex itself, so, if a player gets tired between sessions he can retire to a single room to rest. A fingerprint scanner opens the door – you don’t even need a keycard.

When I entered Bernabéu stadium, I felt like a dwarf. I looked up at those steep tiers of seats and felt tiny. Really, really small. I don’t know why, but I took my first steps on the grass with great care. Complete madness really. But somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to stomp all over the sacred turf that had witnessed so many heroic deeds. I imagine there must be hundreds of players all over the world who would pay a fortune for the opportunity to play just once on this pitch, in this stadium. Maybe I’d have been one of those players myself if my chance hadn’t come to turn out for Los Blancos.

Everywhere I went I got a sense of Real Madrid’s dimensions as a football club. At the World Cup in South Africa there were 20 fans outside our team hotel.

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