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Life of a top-flight professional footballer can be one hell of a ride. This, coming from a guy who has never been on a football field and whose footballing ‘experience’ is limited to sitting on a couch with a bowl of snacks, ogling at anything, anyhow related to football, being played on the television set. But as a curious, impeding fan, guilty of having a perception highly influenced by what’s conveyed via the social media, the existence of a footballer seems like a perfect one. Travelling the world, with the whole world seeming to be on its knees, attaining demi- god statuses among fans across the globe, being blasted all over hoardings, having a fat bank account on the verge of being obese with the weekly dosage of pay-cheques, adored by young kids, desired by women. Not too shabby, eh? But once you’re past your prime, the curtains are falling down on your career, the cameras aren’t that flashy any more, training sessions aren’t that strenuous, you being overlooked for first team selections is unsurprising, your departure to a smaller club just to play regular football is imminent, spending time on the treatment table doesn’t feel that harassing any more. What do you expect? A respectful adieu from the game you gave your blood and sweat to. Unfortunately, not all footballing greats have had the luxury of a reverent goodbye from the beautiful game.
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Note- Not all footballers in the list have officially retired from the game. We are all waiting for the day when they wake up one fine morning, feel like holding a press- conference and doing the needful.
Disclaimer- As a football fan myself, I feel that it’s advisable to keep some paper tissues by your side as you read this piece. Keeping your emotions at bay might turn out to be a hard task as you read these tales of careers remaining unfulfilled and footballing legends being undone. I am fully aware of the fact that your tears can also be a result of your sympathy towards my worthless writing skills, therefore please don’t spam the comments section. Here goes:
Ruud Van Gol, as his fans liked to call him due to his uncanny habit of hammering everything that moved into the back of the net. Started his career in the hushed backgrounds of Den Bosch, the guy almost effortlessly ruled England and Spain for almost a decade. Made a name for himself at PSV, then made the whole world google his name when Sir Alex, apparently on the recommendation of his son, sent his team representatives to watch him play. A 5-year deal worth £18.5 million was in place, a car was ready to take him to the airport, a press conference had been arranged to announce his arrival and bang! the deal was off. Ruptured cruciate knee ligaments suffered in a training session (kept him out for 8 months) meant that both parties failed to reach an agreement. It felt as though a dream had been lost but Manchester United had other ideas. One year later, Sir Alex again came knocking again and a deal was finalised in April, 2001. A boy got injured and a man came back fit (in his own words) as Ruud smashed 150 goals in 220 appearances. Like any footballer at a top- club, he had his times: a ‘more than colleagues’ relationship with Roy Keane, a spat with Christiano Ronaldo , a freakishly ridiculous incident with Martin Keown, a sue threat by Ashley Cole. The most infamous one came in Carling Cup final, 2006 when he allegedly sweared at Ferguson and walked off the substitute bench (he later called and they made up).
A move away from United had already been catalysed, as Real Madrid confirmed his transfer in July 2006 for €24 million where, in his own words, players were not sure if he played for Chelsea or Liverpool. He hit the ground running, maybe, due to the departure of Ronaldo (the original one) with 33 goals in the first season. Yet, his injury ravaged past caught up with him and spent his last two seasons there on the sidelines. Spells at Hamburg (who stalled his Real Madrid return) and Malaga (where he retired) have followed.
For the record, his international career was a bit weird. His love-hate relationships with Dick Advocaat, Marco Van Basten, being constantly dropped from the team over-shadowed the fact that he didn’t win a single major trophy with the team Oranje.
“Some people said: why don’t you stop at the high point. And you know what: you won’t commit suicide when you are your happiest, do you? I want to feel what it is to get worse and slower. I want to experience the degradation. It’s part of the trip. It’s like dying. I want to be totally aware of the autumn and winter of my career. This life is sooo good. I want to milk the last drop out of it. No regrets!”
One of the most expensive players ever to have joined a UK club and once one of the most lethal strikers in Europe, he was born in a tiny village, 60 miles east of Kiev. Conventionally, having been one of the victims of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster and hailing from such a humble background, he shoud’ve joined a Red Army tank regiment but Big Shev and fate had other ideas. Four weeks before the tragedy struck, he (a 10- year old, then) had already been scouted by Dynamo Kiev, one of the biggest clubs in Ukraine where he applied himself with astonishing perseverance and won the domestic league in each of the five glorious seasons (the most magnificent moment being a first half hat trick against Barca in the 1997-98 season in the Champions League). Unsurprisingly, the big European sharks (clubs) sat up and took notice of this young man with chocolaty good looks yet impeccable footballing skills.
In 1999, AC Milan came calling and finalised a deal for then-record transfer fee of $25 million where the Italian fans nicknamed him “the white Ronaldo”, while some called him the new Marco van Basten. Seven years later, Chelsea owner Roman Abramovic dug deep into his oil ridden pocket and offered almost double of what Milan had offered to lure him from Italy to England. Call it Mourinho’s naivity or Andriy’s foolishness but what looked like a beautiful dream at Milan (175 goals in 296 games, in a tough- tackling and defense minded Italian league) turned into an ugly nightmare as injuries and Roman’s creepy tendency of sacking successful managers meant that he fell down the pecking order, ultimately being branded as a Chelsea flop. Although Carlo Ancelloti did offer him a chance at resurrecting his career post a loan spell back at Milan, his body couldn’t take it any more. He, consequently, moved to where it all began for him, Dynamo Kiev.
A fairly celebrated international career was capped off with a brace against Sweden in the recently concluded EURO 2012 campaign, having been Ukraine’s youngest and oldest goalscorer and record marksman with 48 goals in 111 appearances. A career in Ukranian politics to follow, hopefully he won’t stain his reputation of a consummate professional.
His wikipedia page describes him as a retired Argentine footballer who had the ability to contribute both defensively and offensively. But the story Of Redondo aka the Prince doesn’t end there. He was one of the most unfulfilled talents ever to have stepped on a football pitch, a player of absolute class and ability, a player who Fabio Capello once labelled as “tactically perfect”. After earning his corn with CD Tenerife, he moved to Real Madrid in 1994, a move that defined the rest of his career, a move that his under-achieving talent so desperately needed. Despite Madrid not being in top form, the guy won two Champions League titles with them with his formidable presence in the centre of the pitch, turning defence into offence with an astounding tackle and subsequently, orchestrating a forward move with his sharp, crisp passing. All in all, Andy Burton described him as a Paul Scholes with sharper, better-timed tackling skills. His most memorable moment (atleast for the UK audience) being that night at Old Trafford where he baffled the hell out of defender Henning Berg (see it to believe it) and managed a ridiculous ‘taconazo’ back-heel to assist Raul. Roy Keane had never been so in awe of someone while Sir Alex thought his boots were like magnets. Truly amazing stuff!
The man certainly destined for greatness attempted a career suicide when he openly criticised the then Real president Florentino Perez and his ideals towards the club. Consequently, he was offloaded to AC Milan, allegedly to raise funds for luring Luis Figo from Barcelona. The fans were stunned, the Ultras rioted, a talent was lost. Pre-season ligaments damage and 20 (yes, twenty) appearances in four seasons later, he bid farewell to the game, a sport, he didn’t get his due from (he apparently deferred his multi- million dollar wages due to his injury nightmare, humility and professionalism, lesser heard of). His international career wasn’t a fairy-tale either. Constant differences with coaches, refusal to first team call-ups limited his international appearances to 29, a blend of obstinacy and wrong-headedness were equally responsible.
Maradona good. Pele better. George Best. And this should summarise his career, shouldn’t it? When most of the boys of his age were figuring what to do with their respective lives, this young charming lad from Belfast was already turning everyone’s heads at one of the greatest clubs in the world, playing in arguably, the toughest league in the world. A talent so convincingly astonishing, even Sir Matt Busby couldn’t bear the fact of him trialling and not signing for them due to home-sickness (he went out of his way to persuade him). A guy with a unique fixation for the game, the ability to defy all footballing mechanisms to do anything and everything effortlessly or as Pele once aggregated: unbelievable, unplayable and uncatchable. But it wasn’t all hunky dory for the guy whom FIFA.com labelled as football’s tragic playboy prince, the man branded as an integral part of the rebuilding job the club undertook after the Munich disaster. A well endorsed fact being that Georgie lived with one finger firmly on the self- destruct button. Certainly, there can be no other way of digesting the fact that a young footballer, so profusely talented, who, along with Bobby Charlton and Dennis Law reigned England for 6 years, could leave it all and walk away from the grandest stage of them all, the theatre of dreams, at a mere age of 27, at a time when he could’ve actually gone on and established himself as a legend (due respect to the fact that in spite of all the melodrama, he is, was and will be remembered as a great).
The final of the 1968 European Cup against Eusebio’s Benfica being the most glorious moment of his time there, United and Best had reached their apex. It was a downward spiral from there on. Call it Sir Busby’s leniency, Best’s inability to keep his hands off alcohol or failure to keep his womanising ways at bay, Best was on a career-ending streak. His appearances on magazine pages began to surpass his appearances on the football field. He was now the ‘fifth Beatle’. United’s inability to compensate for the outgoing players with world- class replacements followed with a fallout with the new manager Tim Docherty meant that Best had to part ways with United and with football.
Spells in Australia, Scotland, Ireland and the States followed but Best had been lost, he just wasn’t the same anymore. A 36-year old Best had one last chance back on the world stage, when Billy Bingham, the then Northern Ireland manager coach almost picked him for the 1982 World Cup squad but it didn’t work out. In the early hours of 25th November, 2005, the world lost an unfulfilled talent to multiple organ failure, one of the Best ever has the most cruel of goodbyes.
The Lazy Magician, as his faithfuls like to call him, the man had it all. Flair, talent, confidence, elegance, precision to find a pin-point pass, when most of his play maker colleagues couldn’t even imagine it. Hailing from the grimy lanes of San Fernando, Buenos Aires, being a son of a local gang leader, fate didn’t offer him the best of chances to thrive at football. Well, Romi had other ideas. After commencing his career at Boca Juniors and having won every possible laurel the country and the league had to offer with them, he bagged a move to star-studded Barcelona in 2002, a move any player of his age and background couldn’t have imagined of, a move, he was later made to regret. A difficult relationship with the then Barca coach, Louis van Gaal followed with the unsettling news of his brother’s kidnapping meant that he was resigned to the bench for majority of his tenure there. Marco Bielsa, his international coach , didn’t offer much respite either by not selecting him for the 2002 World Cup squad. A career was in tatters, a talent seemed disoriented.
Barca’s signing of Ronaldinho meant that they had exceeded the limit of foreign players allowed in the squad. The solution was an easy one. Subsequently, Riquelme was offloaded to Villareal, a town with diminutive imprint on the footballing map of the world. Yet, the club offered a much needed change of scenery for him. Moreover, he had a few Latin American colleagues as well to make him feel more at home. All in all, a perfect prospect to resurrect his career. And it worked. After establishing himself as an indispensable part of their set up, he led them to a best-ever third position in the league in 2005- 2006 season. The highlight of his time there being the 2006 Champions League semi-final which they eventually lost through a missed penalty kick by none other than he, himself. Four seasons old at the club and his reclusive, indifferent attitude came back to haunt him again. Problems with the management surfaced as his reputation deteriorated. A return back to his home club was awaiting.
After playing a crucial role in Argentina’s 2006 World Cup campaign, he succumbed to the pressure of the media and his mother’s ill health and announced his retirement from international football. After a brief stint as the captain of Argentina’s 2008 Olympic gold medal winning team, a love-hate (more hate, less love) rapport with Diego Maradona impeded his presence at the 2010 WC.
Not the most graceful of goodbyes for a man of his stature, I’d say(not to forget, he’s rumored to return for 2014 WC finals in Brazil, a long-shot I’d have to admit).
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