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meretriculatitle: a beautiful friendship
fandom: football rpf
pairing: Jose Mourinho/Pep Guardiola (ish. but mostly gen.)
rating: G
word count: 1000
summary: A quiet phonecall between two family men.
notes: man, if you asked me to explain this, I don't think I could. very, very loosely inspired by the knowledge that Pep Guardiola and Jose Mourinho used to get together with some friends and talk football way back in the day, and my own speculation that in spite of all their personal differences they probably understand each other better than almost anyone else. they get painted as extremes in the media, but at the end of the day they're both husbands and fathers who don't get much time to spend with their families.
a beautiful friendship
"You know," Pep said, sounding oddly reflective, "I really miss you sometimes."
"I'd say I'm flattered, but I doubt you meant it as a compliment."
"Well, it's strange, don't you think? You'd think I'd miss Luis, or Johan, or - I don't know, Michael. Zubi before I got him back, maybe. And I did, you know, I do, but most of the time it's you. I don't know why."
"Maybe I had one of the physios hypnotize you into it. You were in their offices enough, nobody would have noticed."
Pep laughed. "Jose, not even you think that far ahead. Though I know you'd love for me to believe you can. No, I think… oh, I don't know what I think. After you went back to Portugal, and then when I was in Italy, I kept wanting to call you and talk tactics. That's not so strange. Or my classes, when I was in Mexico, I'd learn something and want to know what you thought about it."
"If you want me to critique what you're planning for two weeks from now, I'd be happy to go over your notes with you," Jose said dryly.
"That's all right," Pep said, and Jose could hear his smile in his voice. "I did learn how to handle things on my own. Good thing, or you wouldn't respect me much."
"I've always respected you. Even if you are a bit of an idiot about things sometimes." Jose leaned back in his chair, letting the day-old tension in his shoulders drain away. He didn't think he needed it now. "And a lucky idiot at that - what would you miss me for now? I'm right here. Closer than you'd like, I think."
Pep made a humming noise, then adjusted his handset so that Jose could only barely make out a muffled, "In a minute, sweetheart, Daddy's on the phone." There was a rustling noise, then he continued, "Sorry about that."
"No, no, no problem. Bedtime is bedtime."
"Well, I was the one who called you, so I'm still sorry. Do you need to tuck anyone in?"
"Not yet. They're a bit older than yours, you know."
"Mmm. I haven't seen them in a long time. I suppose I forget that they keep growing when you're not watching."
"That's more often than I like." There was a brief, companionable silence, which Jose finally felt impelled to break. "So what's on your mind, that you had to call up your great rival to discuss?"
"What great rival?" Pep mocked, though he sounded more amused than scornful. "You certainly haven't gotten any more modest since they ran you out of Italy. No, no, I'm sorry, that was unkind of me, and unfair. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Jose said, because there wasn't. He wasn't so weak that careless or even malicious words could hurt him - not from Pep, not from some idiot Italian journalist. And anyway, it was half-true: he'd certainly never prided himself on humility.
"Ah, well. I suppose I happened to be in a bit of a nostalgic mood today. Even if it hadn't been down to you or me, I wouldn't have wanted you here," Pep said, too easily to have meant any cruelty by it. He was good at many things, and brilliant at others, but he was an amazingly awful liar. "You've always had the most extraordinary gift for finding beautiful things and breaking them to make them work better. They would have won for you but they wouldn't have been Barcelona."
"And you've always been a hopeless idealist," Jose said, unoffended.
"Well, someone has to be. And I suppose this is the closest you'll ever be to me again, but I still can't like where you are."
"It isn't where I am, I think, it's what I am. Or maybe who. I'm not Luis, you know."
"You'd never be that stupid," Pep snorted. "Or so pointlessly proud. No, I know who you are. And you know who I am. Better than anyone else ever has, at least. That might be what I miss the most, in the end."
Jose let the silence drag on longer this time, while he worked out what he wanted to say. It wasn't often that anyone surprised him, but he wasn't about to let that force him into a misstep. "Bring Cristina with you, the next time you're in Madrid," he said abruptly. "Tami gets sick of hearing nothing but football, football, all the time." Pep made a small, startled noise, and Jose smiled. "We can talk about the Bundesliga and Eredivisie without any problems, I think. As a purely theoretical exercise, of course. And Zuca and Mathilde should know what you look like from something other than television, at least."
"I… would like that very much," Pep said slowly. "And - not the next time you're in Barcelona, I think. But if you find yourself there for other reasons, I would like you to see my family as well." Jose heard a girl's voice, quiet and indistinct, at Pep's end of the line, and Pep's reply. He didn't bother trying to cover the mouthpiece this time, but he was speaking in Catalan. Jose had learned to understand and even speak the language during his time in Barcelona, but he hadn't had much opportunity to use it since he'd left. "I have to go, I'm afraid, but I'll see you in a few weeks. May the best man win, I suppose?"
"The best team," Jose corrected. "It isn't about us, after all." Pep was still laughing as he hung up. Jose made a mental note to call Luis sometime soon, then put the phone away and went to see how Mathilde and Zuca were getting along with their homework. Tami managed it all perfectly well when he wasn't home, of course, but since he was home, he thought he would like to spend some time with his children.
notes:
1. Jose Mourinho worked on the coaching staff at Barcelona from 1996 to 2000, and thus was well-acquainted with Pep Guardiola and Luis Figo, among others. He started out as a translator for Bobby Robson and worked his way up to assistant manager before leaving Barcelona to become head coach of the Portuguese club Benfica.
2. Luis is Luis Figo, former Barcelona player. Johan is Johan Cruyff, former Barcelona player and coach. Michael is Michael Laudrup, former Barcelona player. Zubi is Andoni Zubizarreta, former Barcelona player and member of the current management staff.
3. Mourinho, Guardiola and Figo apparently participated in an informal football discussion club with Laurent Blanc and Gica Popescu while they were all at Barcelona.
4. Luis Figo's transfer from Barcelona to arch-rivals Real Madrid in 2000 was the source of great controversy. Guardiola and Figo had been close friends before Figo's move.
5. Before Guardiola was given the job of first-team coach of Barcelona in 2008, Jose Mourinho was the primary candidate for the position. Mourinho himself has stated that Guardiola was the right choice for the job.
6. Both Guardiola and Mourinho keep their families out of the public eye, so not much is known about them. Guardiola and his partner Cristina have two daughters and a son. Mourinho and his wife Mathilde (Tami) have a daughter named Mathilde and a son named Jose (Zuca).
7. Guardiola and Mourinho are (obviously) the current coaches of Barcelona and Real Madrid, respectively, and will face off in Barcelona for the first Clasico of the season on November 29, 2010.
8. As always, if you want to know more about Barcelona than you can find out from these footnotes, this post is here to help. And if you have any other questions, please ask! I'm always happy to talk about my club.
9. Title and cut-text are quotes from the movie Casablanca.
fandom: football rpf
pairing: Jose Mourinho/Pep Guardiola (ish. but mostly gen.)
rating: G
word count: 1000
summary: A quiet phonecall between two family men.
notes: man, if you asked me to explain this, I don't think I could. very, very loosely inspired by the knowledge that Pep Guardiola and Jose Mourinho used to get together with some friends and talk football way back in the day, and my own speculation that in spite of all their personal differences they probably understand each other better than almost anyone else. they get painted as extremes in the media, but at the end of the day they're both husbands and fathers who don't get much time to spend with their families.
a beautiful friendship
"You know," Pep said, sounding oddly reflective, "I really miss you sometimes."
"I'd say I'm flattered, but I doubt you meant it as a compliment."
"Well, it's strange, don't you think? You'd think I'd miss Luis, or Johan, or - I don't know, Michael. Zubi before I got him back, maybe. And I did, you know, I do, but most of the time it's you. I don't know why."
"Maybe I had one of the physios hypnotize you into it. You were in their offices enough, nobody would have noticed."
Pep laughed. "Jose, not even you think that far ahead. Though I know you'd love for me to believe you can. No, I think… oh, I don't know what I think. After you went back to Portugal, and then when I was in Italy, I kept wanting to call you and talk tactics. That's not so strange. Or my classes, when I was in Mexico, I'd learn something and want to know what you thought about it."
"If you want me to critique what you're planning for two weeks from now, I'd be happy to go over your notes with you," Jose said dryly.
"That's all right," Pep said, and Jose could hear his smile in his voice. "I did learn how to handle things on my own. Good thing, or you wouldn't respect me much."
"I've always respected you. Even if you are a bit of an idiot about things sometimes." Jose leaned back in his chair, letting the day-old tension in his shoulders drain away. He didn't think he needed it now. "And a lucky idiot at that - what would you miss me for now? I'm right here. Closer than you'd like, I think."
Pep made a humming noise, then adjusted his handset so that Jose could only barely make out a muffled, "In a minute, sweetheart, Daddy's on the phone." There was a rustling noise, then he continued, "Sorry about that."
"No, no, no problem. Bedtime is bedtime."
"Well, I was the one who called you, so I'm still sorry. Do you need to tuck anyone in?"
"Not yet. They're a bit older than yours, you know."
"Mmm. I haven't seen them in a long time. I suppose I forget that they keep growing when you're not watching."
"That's more often than I like." There was a brief, companionable silence, which Jose finally felt impelled to break. "So what's on your mind, that you had to call up your great rival to discuss?"
"What great rival?" Pep mocked, though he sounded more amused than scornful. "You certainly haven't gotten any more modest since they ran you out of Italy. No, no, I'm sorry, that was unkind of me, and unfair. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Jose said, because there wasn't. He wasn't so weak that careless or even malicious words could hurt him - not from Pep, not from some idiot Italian journalist. And anyway, it was half-true: he'd certainly never prided himself on humility.
"Ah, well. I suppose I happened to be in a bit of a nostalgic mood today. Even if it hadn't been down to you or me, I wouldn't have wanted you here," Pep said, too easily to have meant any cruelty by it. He was good at many things, and brilliant at others, but he was an amazingly awful liar. "You've always had the most extraordinary gift for finding beautiful things and breaking them to make them work better. They would have won for you but they wouldn't have been Barcelona."
"And you've always been a hopeless idealist," Jose said, unoffended.
"Well, someone has to be. And I suppose this is the closest you'll ever be to me again, but I still can't like where you are."
"It isn't where I am, I think, it's what I am. Or maybe who. I'm not Luis, you know."
"You'd never be that stupid," Pep snorted. "Or so pointlessly proud. No, I know who you are. And you know who I am. Better than anyone else ever has, at least. That might be what I miss the most, in the end."
Jose let the silence drag on longer this time, while he worked out what he wanted to say. It wasn't often that anyone surprised him, but he wasn't about to let that force him into a misstep. "Bring Cristina with you, the next time you're in Madrid," he said abruptly. "Tami gets sick of hearing nothing but football, football, all the time." Pep made a small, startled noise, and Jose smiled. "We can talk about the Bundesliga and Eredivisie without any problems, I think. As a purely theoretical exercise, of course. And Zuca and Mathilde should know what you look like from something other than television, at least."
"I… would like that very much," Pep said slowly. "And - not the next time you're in Barcelona, I think. But if you find yourself there for other reasons, I would like you to see my family as well." Jose heard a girl's voice, quiet and indistinct, at Pep's end of the line, and Pep's reply. He didn't bother trying to cover the mouthpiece this time, but he was speaking in Catalan. Jose had learned to understand and even speak the language during his time in Barcelona, but he hadn't had much opportunity to use it since he'd left. "I have to go, I'm afraid, but I'll see you in a few weeks. May the best man win, I suppose?"
"The best team," Jose corrected. "It isn't about us, after all." Pep was still laughing as he hung up. Jose made a mental note to call Luis sometime soon, then put the phone away and went to see how Mathilde and Zuca were getting along with their homework. Tami managed it all perfectly well when he wasn't home, of course, but since he was home, he thought he would like to spend some time with his children.
notes:
1. Jose Mourinho worked on the coaching staff at Barcelona from 1996 to 2000, and thus was well-acquainted with Pep Guardiola and Luis Figo, among others. He started out as a translator for Bobby Robson and worked his way up to assistant manager before leaving Barcelona to become head coach of the Portuguese club Benfica.
2. Luis is Luis Figo, former Barcelona player. Johan is Johan Cruyff, former Barcelona player and coach. Michael is Michael Laudrup, former Barcelona player. Zubi is Andoni Zubizarreta, former Barcelona player and member of the current management staff.
3. Mourinho, Guardiola and Figo apparently participated in an informal football discussion club with Laurent Blanc and Gica Popescu while they were all at Barcelona.
4. Luis Figo's transfer from Barcelona to arch-rivals Real Madrid in 2000 was the source of great controversy. Guardiola and Figo had been close friends before Figo's move.
5. Before Guardiola was given the job of first-team coach of Barcelona in 2008, Jose Mourinho was the primary candidate for the position. Mourinho himself has stated that Guardiola was the right choice for the job.
6. Both Guardiola and Mourinho keep their families out of the public eye, so not much is known about them. Guardiola and his partner Cristina have two daughters and a son. Mourinho and his wife Mathilde (Tami) have a daughter named Mathilde and a son named Jose (Zuca).
7. Guardiola and Mourinho are (obviously) the current coaches of Barcelona and Real Madrid, respectively, and will face off in Barcelona for the first Clasico of the season on November 29, 2010.
8. As always, if you want to know more about Barcelona than you can find out from these footnotes, this post is here to help. And if you have any other questions, please ask! I'm always happy to talk about my club.
9. Title and cut-text are quotes from the movie Casablanca.
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no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:26 pm (UTC)lalalalala can't hear you talking about Liverpool! or the Barcelona game which I am much more stressed about! oh fuck I didn't bake anything today fuuuuuuuuuuuuu they better not lose!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:32 pm (UTC)DAMN una is fast, i just saw this last night
why are you stressed about barca, i have faith in victor to keep a clean sheet, yes i do
omgggggg our third away kits are gorgeous
no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:43 pm (UTC)idk I'm just way more emotionally involved with Barça. like, if Liverpool or AC Milan lose I'll be kind of annoyed but if Barça loses I get sulky and pissy and the bad mood lasts for hours. I WANT THEM TO WIN EVERYTHING EVER OKAY. I'm like this with Rafa, too. (though less so right now because he won three Slams and I am thus pretty much okay with his season even if he doesn't win another match till January.)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 05:58 pm (UTC)i did not know you supported milan! this way you can keep loving ibra, that's good bb.
no i get it i think i'm more invested with lfc right now just because of all the off-pitch shenanigans/drama going on over there, i feel like they "need" me more haha. basically i love football sfm. i don't want to have to choose between my clubs though. i donut appreciate all the people sipping the NT haterate lately though. i can't tell if people dislike spain, or dislike spain fangirls, or how you can tell the difference between fans and fangirls short of making like the inquisition and grilling someone about players and positions and history and tactics, but seriously, is this necessary?
no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 06:31 pm (UTC)lol when I say "support Milan" I really mean "support Zlatan." I barely know anyone else on that team. it's a completely shallow thing. I would probably get more into it if Nesta ever stopped being such a fucking pissy bitch and would actually make up with Zlatan, but whatever. I will hold out for the inevitable transfer drama that will just as inevitably end with Maxwell following Zlatan to their new home. even though I will miss him at Barça. ;_;
is there NT haterade going on? haven't seen it, but I guess that's not unusual, haha. idk, I get really annoyed at people who want to be assholes about how they're real fans and other people who don't love the team their way are clearly just doing it wrong. it's stupid. hell, I'd say I'm a fangirl, not a fan. to me that distinction is just a way of putting girls down because the "girly" way of loving something is clearly the "wrong" way. whatever, I don't see how me liking a team because I think the players are pretty or I like the storylines the team builds is inferior to somebody else liking a team because they score a lot of goals. they're different criteria but neither is inherently better. it doesn't mean I care less about the team than Fan XYZ who watches "for the sport". reminds me of all the subtle ways that our culture conditions us to put down anything that's coded as "female". like, you would look down on a woman reading a romance novel when you wouldn't look down on a man reading a thriller. it's not like one is better than the other except that one is associated with women so it's got cooties or something. ugh. /rant, sorry.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 08:53 pm (UTC)imma need a minute here.
but i dunno if abidal has completely nailed down the left back position at this point. certainly not the way dani owns the right. hmmmm.
i don't like how people sometimes complain about fangirls giving women in football a bad name. and by "people," i don't mean anyone in particular, i couldn't name any names but i think it's fair to say it's a very widespread general sentiment that girls who climbed aboard the bandwagon for, say, xabi's beard or bojan's guns need to gtfo. but since when was being dumb grounds for being expelled from fandom? idgi. i don't get why all women's behavior should be judged on the basis of a few women's behavior. it smacks of the same sentiment as calling barack obama "a credit to his race." so i totally agree with you about things coded as female being inherently less valuable.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-14 01:35 am (UTC)yeah, idk, I can actually think of specific people who talk as if the fact that their criteria for fannish selection is different from the fangirls' makes them somehow superior, and it really gets me mad. maybe you were raised to like a club, maybe you think their captain is good-looking, maybe you like the uniform - who the fuck cares, it's all arbitrary. if you care about the club, if you're happy when they win and sad when they lose, then you're a fan, full stop. privileging your own reasons for being a fan is just patting yourself on the back, and it does in fact make you a dick. there is no right or wrong reason to be a fan. (tumblr makes me make this rant every once in a while, even though I know nobody reads my text posts, haha. sorry that you seem to be on the receiving end this time.) I just feel that you can have genuine and very deep feelings that start from something quite superficial - I feel really deeply about Barcelona, fuck knows why - and I get offended when someone tells me that my caring is worth less than theirs because, idk, I don't really like watching the game. WHATEVER.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-14 02:06 am (UTC)also, have you SEEN your barca primer? nobody who has eyes could accuse you, of all people, of not being a "real" fan. whatever that means.
ok peace out i'm off to stan queen rania
no subject
Date: 2010-11-14 09:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-13 08:59 pm (UTC)THE HYMN KILLS ME EVERY TIME