Will Mesut Ozil and Jose Mourinho Rekindle a Very Special Relationship?

On both a literal and metaphorical level, Mesut Ozil had perhaps never been as naked since the day he was born. Alone in a communal shower as his team-mates traipsed out for the second half, he must have felt even smaller as he relayed over and over what had just passed. The dull slap of hot water on his aching body had nothing on the piercing needle of his manager's words.

With Real Madrid 3-1 up against Deportivo La Coruna having come from behind, Ozil had anticipated Jose Mourinho's half-time team talk would have been one of quiet contentment. Sure, he'd slacked off a little in the last few minutes, operating at 80 or 90 per cent, but he was playing well, and his passing was sharp. Maybe he'd get a gentle jolt—no more. He wasn't expecting a cattle prod.

What followed might best be described as a verbal two-footer. With both feet off the floor, Mourinho singled him out in a manner punitive to the point of excess.

Putting those two in the same ring feels like asking a butcher and a vegetarian to spar for a purse comprising a carrier bag filled with meat. Ozil recounts the episode in his autobiography, Gunning for Greatness: My Life:

"'You think two passes are enough,' Mourinho screams. 'You're too refined to go in for the tackle. You think you're so good that fifty per cent is enough.'

"He pauses. Stares at me with his dark brown eyes. I stare back. We are like two boxers eyeballing each other before the first round.

"... 'I want you to go into tackles like a man. Do you know what it looks like when you tackle? No? Let me show you.'

"Mourinho stands on tiptoes, thrusts his arms down by his sides, purses his lips and minces around the dressing room. 'That's how you tackle. Ooh, I mustn't get hurt. And absolutely mustn't get dirty,' he shouts while repeating his Ozil tackle parody."

On it went in such a vein until the quiet man in a Real Madrid dressing room not known for its wallflowers flipped. Ozil ripped off his shirt and threw it at the feet of Mourinho. If the German thought an act of such open indolence would be a red rag to a bull, he clearly miscalculated how his manager possesses a matador's cunning.

Mourinho laughed at Ozil's suggestion he put it on. In an act of solidarity, captain Sergio Ramos did just that for the second half, wearing it under his own shirt to send Marca into a frenzy when it was spotted.

The Portuguese hadn't finished. Dropping his voice several octaves, he went on to relay a further suite of insults. Bespoke barbs delivered calmly always cut that bit deeper:

"'Oh, are you giving up now?' he asks. 'What a coward,' he says harshly, moving to within just a few centimetres of me. 'What do you want? To crawl under a nice, warm shower? Shampoo your hair? Be on your own? Or do you want to show your team-mates, the fans out there and me what you're capable of?'

"Now Mourinho's talking very calmly. He's no longer hot-tempered and loud, but controlled, which makes me even madder. How can he compose himself while I'm on the verge of losing it? I'm so pissed off. I'd love to chuck my boots at his head. I want him to stop. To leave me in peace finally.

"'Do you know what, Mesut?' Mourinho says, louder now so that everyone can hear. 'Cry if you like! Sob away! You're such a baby. Go and take a shower. We don't need you.'"

When Ozil released his autobiography earlier in the year, this was the one story everyone wanted to talk about. Given books written by current players tend to be so sterile you could put a baby's dummy between the pages and never have to worry about germs again, such candidness feels more in line with the savage poetry of war reportage than the beige pap of a sport biography.

There are few greater insults in the line of sporting duty than an accusation of cowardice. Especially when delivered by someone like Mourinho, a man with Ernest Hemingway-sized macho tendencies that teeter on masochism. Apparently, Ozil has a lion tattoo. There's a joke somewhere to be had about The Wizard of Oz, but Mourinho has probably made it already.

All of which makes fresh speculation he is keen to be reunited with Ozil at Manchester United, brought into public consciousness by The Independent's Miguel Delaney last week, seem at least a little surprising. It's not entirely fanciful, though, given the player's contractual situation, with Delaney of the understanding a move could be made in January. 

When you look past the coward headlines to read in any depth what is a surprisingly open account of his life in football, from cover to cover, it is clear just how special Ozil's bond is with Mourinho. There is less gushing fan fiction out there. He may as well have sent his former boss a mix tape of their time together in Spain. Perhaps he has. There's a lovely tapas place on King Street in Manchester if they ever desire to meet up, for whatever reason.

Whether Ozil needed to get the 28 years of his life down on paper and recorded for prosperity is a moot point, but choosing Mourinho to write its forward seems like quite a big deal. From all of the people he has met during a career that has spanned three countries and a World Cup win, it is his former manager who he thinks can offer the greatest insight into what makes him tick.

Ozil's description of meeting Mourinho for the first time, after what he had hoped was an eye-catching performance for Werder Bremen against his Inter Milan side in the season before they both moved to Spain, reads like it has been ghosted by Chris De Burgh: "What did I like about Mourinho so much? The way he spoke, the way he moved, his elegant dress sense. He always looked controlled and supremely confident. Back then it was a charisma I'd encountered in only a few managers."

It could be Nick Carraway talking about Jay Gatsby. 

Here he is on receiving a call from the main man: "The idea of him phoning today made me quite dizzy. I was as nervous as before my first call to a girl I'd fallen for as a boy."

Later in what appears to be a clear case of illegal "texting-up," Sami Khedira sends him on a message from Mourinho in which he discloses Madrid's starting XI for the new season, with Ozil's name included, despite the fact he's still a Bremen player. 

Ozil going public about the reason he chose Madrid is all a bit Trainspotting, but quite endearing nonetheless: "He alone is the reason why I went to Real Madrid from Werder Bremen in 2010. I didn't choose the club; I chose him. I chose the man, Jose Mourinho. I wanted to play for him and no one else."

The raging tete-a-tete they had in Madrid is recounted in a prologue titled "The Most Important Bollocking Of My Life." Semantics are important here. It's not the biggest bollocking, or the most savage, or most unjust, but the most important.

He claims what passed between them inside the dressing room that day effectively frames the rest of the book, the rest of his life, even: "Why did Mourinho, this great manager, make me look such a fool? What was he trying to tell me? I started posing myself major questions like I'd never done before. The argument was on my mind for weeks. Who was I? And where did I want to go?"

In his first year at Real Madrid, he scored 10 goals and set up a further 28 in all competitions. In the second year, when Madrid won La Liga in what remains arguably Mourinho's greatest achievement in management to date, he managed seven goals and 29 assists. No player in the Spanish league could top it.

To give context to what they achieved together that year, it's worth remembering at the time Pep Guardiola's Barcelona side were being spoken of, and still are regarded, as one of the greatest club sides of all time. Madrid scored 121 goals that season and lost just two matches.

In his third and final season in Spain, there were 24 assists and 10 goals. By his own admission, such phenomenal numbers are swelled by the fact his Madrid team-mates tended to miss fewer chances than mere mortals.

When you are looking for a new club, though, there is no time for false modesty. Even over four years on, Mourinho will surely look at those statistics and ponder whether signing a player he knows well, and is still just 28, could be a no-brainer.

The added incentive of getting back on track a talent he no doubt feels Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger has drained all the life from should not be underestimated either.

There's little doubt Ozil's stock has never been lower. He has played just twice since Arsenal's 4-0 defeat at Liverpool in August, which saw Gary Neville on Sky Sports brand his performance "disgraceful." It was the type of display that leads to manifold accusations of being typical of the player, which, though understandable given most people watching the game probably covered more ground going back and forth between the fridge and the TV than Ozil managed on the football pitch, it's also, ultimately, unfair.

He's still pretty good, even if brilliantly candid lines like, "every normal person, whether they work in an office or on a building site, will have days where they don't try so hard" are unlikely to endear him to those who see him as a flaky Johnny Foreigner.

No other Premier League player can match him in terms of any of assists, chances or big chances created over the four seasons he has been in England prior to the current campaign. Apparently he's the master of the pre-assist, too, but unfortunately, I'm not wearing a lab coat while writing this so you'll have to look elsewhere for confirmation on that one.

Given his existing deal expires in June, it's a surprise no one has made more of him conceding: "I would have loved to get to know London better." It's not a sound bite of a man planning to stick around.

When he talks of the capital, it's infused with such melancholy. "The truth is that I live life in a golden cage," and "I'm already looking forward to my retirement" sound like the best B-sides The Smiths never wrote, but really should have. They'd make for a pretty depressing Spotify playlist.

Such damning admissions, when coupled with the fact Arsenal have won six of seven games over August and September in which he has scarcely figured due to injury, is starting to have the distinct feel both club and player have accepted a parting is inevitable. They may still be sleeping in the same bed, but it would be a surprise if they are not top and tailing.

Ozil won't be a cheap option given FIFA World Cup winners usually demand to be paid accordingly, but the temptation to land a player of his undoubted pedigree on a free will always hold considerable appeal for a club like Manchester United.

Reaction from United supporters on social media appears a little lukewarm, but then no one booked an open-top bus when Nemanja Matic was signed over the summer either. The idea United would have no use for someone like Ozil seems a tad premature, however impressive their start to the season has been to date.

Given Cristiano Ronaldo still goes to sleep dreaming of Ozil assists, it's probably safe to say Romelu Lukaku wouldn't turn his nose up at playing with someone who weighs his passes with the precision of a midwife doing the same to a newborn.

When Wenger persuaded Ozil to join Arsenal in the summer of 2013, Mourinho was one of the first to congratulate the Frenchman for pulling off what at the time was seen as one of the biggest coups in the history of the Premier League.

Then in his second stint as Chelsea manager, Mourinho described him thus, as reported by the Mirror's Mark Jones: "Ozil is unique. There is no one like him, not even a bad copy. He is the best No. 10 in the world." He then went on to liken him to Zinedine Zidane. It was a typically cute move on Mourinho's part.

When they had fallen out at Madrid that time, the thing that had hurt Ozil the most was when Mourinho had told him he was not in the same league as the Frenchman, the only player he had ever idolised. Mourinho's reassurance at a time when a circumspect Ozil will no doubt have been worried about adapting to a new league, and country, will have been noted.

Mourinho is the ex who always remembers to text on your birthday. All innocent, perhaps (though in reality, almost certainly not), but thoughtful enough to make you take a moment to wistfully remember the good times and forget the rest. "Who's that?" your current partner asks. "No one," you lie, before spending the rest of the day writing and rewriting your reply. 

No manager likes to turn inside-out the old football adage "never go back" with such regularity as Mourinho. Matic is a prime example.

When the Portuguese got his customary three-year itch during his second spell at Chelsea, he could not have been harder on the Serb. An annus horribilis for both men saw Matic's nadir come against Southampton when he was hooked after just 28 minutes.

When Mourinho came back for him over the summer it felt like Cruella de Vil turning up at a rescue home for Dalmatians. Matic brushed off the concern of becoming one of Sir Bobby Charlton's winter hats and hasn't stopped wagging his tail since.

Matic is the quintessential Mourinho foot soldier, but if he harboured any doubts about being reunited, it would appear "a better the devil you know" mindset won out. It would almost certainly be the same with Ozil.

There's no doubt behind the artistic temperament he possesses a pragmatic streak. Before every tweet he sends out, he first has a WhatsApp confab with his PR advisor about its content. It's fair to say he won't rush his decision on his next club. 

"Whereas normal workers have 20, 30 or 40 years to develop, we professional footballers have to realise our maximum potential in a time frame of 15 years at most," conceded Ozil in his tome. 

"We can't have wild stabs at things, experimenting as we please. A wrong change of clubs, an ill-considered signature can break your career." 

There would be nothing experimental about signing for United, except living in the north. Few managers are as unpredictable as Mourinho, as Henrikh Mkhitaryan and Anthony Martial among others will attest, but it wouldn't be anything new for Ozil.

He experienced the worse of a man who is admittedly always capable of outdoing himself, and he came out of the other side unscathed. Maybe he's a player who needs to work under a capricious manager like Mourinho to ensure he never falls back into a lackadaisical default setting. Perhaps things are just too stable under Wenger.

"When I came to Madrid part of me believed that playing beautiful football would be enough. After three dream passes and four super solo runs I'd swagger around the pitch, rather than continuing to fight and do my job with the utmost concentration.

"I was quickly sated, easily satisfied, and then I'd sometimes be happy to go down a gear. But it was exactly this attitude that Mourinho beat out of me.

"And I thanked him for it. After a few days I admitted to him that the penny had dropped."

There is no shortage of critics who would argue he has described his present incarnation to a tee. Ozil wouldn't be the first to have been accused of switching off on Wenger's watch.

Though cordial and respectful of his current manager's gentlemanly manner, there appears little warmth there. If Wenger has read Ozil's book, he is no doubt delighted that in the final few pages his player discusses Arsenal's 5-1 spanking to Bayern Munich last season.

Ozil recommends the best way for him and his team-mates to move on from it is to listen to yet more Mourinho stories about dealing with defeat and put it into practice. His life story starts and ends with Mourinho anecdotes.

It's similarly interesting to note how he repeatedly references how strict he finds the Frenchman. Wenger's insistence boots are taken off in the dressing room—a leftover from his time managing in Japan with Nagoya Grampus Eight—the turning-off of mobile phones in massage rooms, along with zealous dress codes, all make playing for Arsenal, "a bit like school." One suspects Ozil wasn't always the most enthusiastic of pupils.

Ozil describes how Mourinho knows intuitively when a player needs a break, citing an unprompted occasion at Madrid when he was unexpectedly given time off at the precise moment when he felt at breaking point. When he openly talks of how he finds Wenger undemonstrative at times, it jars with this perception of Mourinho.

There's a fabulous melodramatic passage when Ozil's two pet pugs escape from his London home. When he requests time off from training to find them, Wenger reacts as though he had asked him to be excused to look for a pair of missing socks. Perhaps his ambivalence towards dogs is fuelled by having to look at Alexis Sanchez's every home game.

"I couldn't comprehend how he could be so hard. We were, after all, talking about dogs—practically family members—who'd disappeared," Ozil said.

"I couldn't bear the thought that they might be lying in a ditch somewhere, having been run over, and suffering internal injuries that would lead to a horrible death."

The biggest shock in all this is, of course, Ozil being a dog rather than cat man. In a Premier League bursting at the seams with Odies, this sleuth had Ozil down as the biggest Garfield-like character since Dimitar Berbatov. 

Mourinho is clearly a dog man. Wenger is almost certainly a cat man. Maybe that's the real reason why Wenger and Ozil have never quite been a purrfect fit.

Mourinho and Ozil, however, almost certainly are. And they may just be again in Manchester.

All quotes taken from the eminently readable Gunning For Greatness: My Life, unless otherwise stated