Javier Calleja: From Al Riyadh to Coaching Aspirations
Javier Calleja sits in Madrid without a bench, but not without football. The 46-year-old coach has just closed an intense chapter at Al Riyadh, come close to taking charge of Sevilla, and spent days peering inside Cesc Fàbregas’ project at Como. Unemployed on paper, fully employed in his head.
The abrupt end at Al Riyadh
His departure from Saudi Arabia still stings, not because of results, but because of everything around them.
Al Riyadh were 11th when he was sacked, safely above the drop with a squad built to do nothing more ambitious than survive. Targets met, job done. And yet, out.
“It was not a sporting reason,” Calleja explains. He arrived “hand in hand” with the sporting director who had started the season. When the president fell out with that director, the dominoes fell. Everyone linked to that era was pushed aside. Calleja included.
The frustration is obvious, but so is the pride. He insists the experience was “spectacular” – a different way of working, living and feeling football, in a league he is convinced will keep growing and drawing attention. He would go back, he says. No hesitation.
Sevilla’s call that never became a contract
A few weeks ago, his phone rang with the kind of offer that can change a career. Sevilla.
“Yes, it is true that the option to go to Sevilla came up,” he admits. There were talks with the board, the possibility was real. Then the club chose another path.
No drama, no public reproach. Calleja calls it a source of pride that Sevilla even considered him and simply wishes them well. The door closed quietly, but it confirmed one thing: he is still firmly on the radar of major clubs.
Cristiano up close: “touched by a magic wand”
Saudi Arabia also gave him something many coaches can only imagine: preparing a team to face Cristiano Ronaldo.
His verdict on CR7 is absolute. One of the best in history. Possibly number one in terms of competitiveness, professionalism and the relentless ambition to be the best. Calleja underlines what every opponent feels: all the praise “falls short.”
He points to Cristiano’s obsession with detail, his work on his body and mind, the way he squeezes every drop out of his career. That, Calleja says, is why the Portuguese forward looks almost “ageless” on the pitch. He will play, he believes, for as long as he wants to.
Learning from Cesc in Como
With no team to coach, Calleja has turned into a student again. Recently, that meant several days in Como, watching Cesc Fàbregas and his staff from up close.
He speaks with admiration of a newly promoted side that is now fighting for Champions League places in Serie A. What grabs him is the idea: a brave team, ball-dominant, unafraid of anyone. A squad built on smart signings rather than big names, competing on equal terms with Italy’s giants.
Calleja loves that. It fits his own footballing vision: protagonism with the ball, courage without the ball, and a refusal to be self-conscious against bigger badges.
The school of Spanish coaches
The days in Como also reminded him of something he’s convinced of: the strength of Spanish coaching.
He reels off names easily – Luis Enrique, Arteta, Guardiola as global references, then Jagoba Arrasate, Marcelino, Iraola, Míchel. Add Ancelotti, Flick, and Veljko Paunovic, whom he highlights for his work at Oviedo and a departure he considers unfair.
For Calleja, Spanish coaches stand “on a par with the best in the world.” The explosion of the national team – two European Championships and a World Cup – forced the world to look at Spain and discover a production line of coaches, players and club structures. That success, he argues, opened doors abroad and turned the Spanish coach into a global benchmark.
Life without a bench
For now, his life runs at a different pace. Quieter. Less spotlight, more reflection.
He spends his days watching matches from as many leagues as possible, talking to people, absorbing ideas. It is a reset after Saudi Arabia, a stage of learning and observation.
What he misses is clear: the routine. Early mornings, training ground chats with his staff, the daily connection with players, the electricity of a matchday. That rhythm, he says, is “very special.” Without it, something is always missing.
Old loves: Alavés, Oviedo, Levante, Málaga
When he looks at the table, he suffers for his former clubs. He doesn’t want to see Alavés flirting with relegation. He feels a particular sadness for Oviedo, knowing what that city and fanbase have endured to climb back to the top flight, and how cruel it would be to lose it again so quickly.
Málaga, meanwhile, makes him smile whenever he watches the Segunda. It is a club he carries “in his heart.” His family was happy there, one of his daughters was born in the city, and he is convinced that, at some point, their paths will cross again.
Arbeloa, Real Madrid and the weight of the bench
Calleja knows what it means to jump from youth football to a demanding first team. He did it at Villarreal. That is why he looks at Álvaro Arbeloa’s situation at Real Madrid with a certain empathy.
To arrive at “probably the most demanding bench in the world” without previous elite experience and get the team functioning is, in his words, extremely difficult. Arbeloa has had ups and downs, but the team continues to compete. For Calleja, that alone deserves respect and, above all, time.
Villarreal, a destination club
When the conversation turns to Villarreal, his tone softens. It is “the team that gave me everything,” his home.
Third place in La Liga, he says, says it all. A consolidated side, a club that has become a destination any player or coach would be happy to choose. That reputation, that environment, is the result of many years of doing things right. Under Marcelino, Villarreal are again showing a “spectacular” level. Calleja simply enjoys watching them succeed.
The ruthless clock on coaches
He is under no illusions about his profession. When things go wrong, the coach is the first to fall. Often, he insists, the coach is not the main culprit. Sometimes he is, and then the change is fair. But when he is not and still pays the price, it is pure injustice. And yet, that is football.
He pushes back against the idea that three-year projects are unrealistic. Being signed for three seasons is easy, he says; being truly trusted for those three seasons is almost “a pipe dream.” He believes that, in most cases, a coach with a proven track record deserves that margin to build, refine an idea and create something solid. Less time, and too often the project never really starts.
For now, Calleja waits. He watches, learns, travels, talks. Somewhere, a club will decide it wants a coach who believes in the ball, in brave football, and in long-term work.
When that call comes, he sounds ready to jump back into the weekly rhythm he misses so much – and to prove, over more than a few hurried months, what his football really looks like.
