Torres (12 page)

19 August 2007

Sixteen minutes to become a hero. Steven Gerrard, in the midfield circle, looks up. To his left, he sees Fernando, ready to pounce. A long diagonal pass with the outside of the foot. Perfect, as on so many previous occasions. On the move, Torres is unstoppable, his counter-attacking is lethal but he has to prove it at Anfield, his new home. He gets to the ball without difficulty, even though it was a bit long. He moves onto it with speed, then holds it up briefly on the white line of the opposing penalty area, strokes it with his right foot and takes on the Chelsea defender, Tal Ben Haim. In a flash, a change of pace and he’s off. Petr Cech tries to close down the space but can’t do anything, his white-gloved hand touches only grass. El Niño’s shot is aimed just inside the opposite post. Precise, surgical and exact, like a mathematical formula. For the ex-Atlético Madrid player, it just remains for him to turn and slide along the turf, arms open wide, to offer himself to the terraces, for them to embrace what he has kept on doing since the first minute, to receive his deserved tribute.

It’s not only a goal, it’s love at first sight between the young lad from Fuenlabrada and the residents of the Kop. Now they’ve found their very own
matador
, the clinical finisher they were looking for. In just a few seconds, Torres has demonstrated his qualities – speed, power, precision
and class finishing in front of goal. No, he’s not the dud signing that some were afraid he might be. No, he’s not the other Fernando (Morientes) who arrived from ‘sunny Spain’ generating huge expectations and then didn’t perform as he should have done. Right from the first moment, this Number 9 seems something else altogether.

The plaudits from the press flood in. So it’s a pity then that the match ends in a draw after conceding a penalty that the 45,000 present would swear they hadn’t seen. But it doesn’t matter. For the new arrival it’s a great day. He couldn’t imagine a better debut – scoring a great goal against opponents like Chelsea and then getting applauded with an ovation. So many times, old and new team-mates have told him what it means to play at Anfield. The atmosphere, the fans, the emotion you feel when you come on to the pitch, the songs, ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’.

But in the end they had said it was something that was difficult to explain, and that you had to feel it on your own skin. And it’s true that the sensations Fernando feels, coming down the steps, touching the club badge and standing on the green rectangle, are absolutely unique. He doesn’t know how to express himself. He’s happy but he doesn’t allow himself to get euphoric. ‘The goals are going to give me confidence, which will help me to adapt, but I still have more to do. I’ve only just arrived and the way of playing is very different. With goals, there’s much less pressure and I hope that they keep coming, but there’s still an awful lot more for me to do to be at the level of some of my team-mates and to adapt myself to the Premier League,’ he declares. He claims he doesn’t feel the pressure of being the most expensive signing in the club’s history, people have given him a warm welcome but he has to work, ‘because when you work, things happen.’

Better to tread carefully at Liverpool, having been there a little over a month. His first training session at Melwood with his new classmates is on 11 July. He gets changed inbetween Gerrard and Voronin and realises that it’s true, he’s actually a Liverpool player, and that this will be his dressing room for the next few years. By the end of the first day, he’s discovered a lot. The media are not allowed into Melwood. In Spain, they call it training ‘behind closed doors’ and when Fabio Capello, then with Real Madrid, introduced it, he was flooded with criticism. Here it’s normal and the new arrival likes it because one can train in complete tranquillity, practise the game plan and the technical moves without a photographer trying to immortalise you in a fleeting moment, without some little problem ending up on the front page.

And then there is the important, necessary and intense physical work under the guidance of Paco, who never tires of repeating it over and over again. And the manager’s technical lessons. At Melwood, they all have lunch together and very often players and technical staff stop to eat, a good way to check on what they’re eating – the gaffer is very strict regarding fats – but they are also moments for getting to know each other better. Rafa Benítez explains to Fernando his new role. He wants him to play in a different way to what he was doing at Atlético. More direct moves up the pitch, operating more deeply with fast movement to take advantage of his running. He doesn’t want him to drop too often to the wings or backtrack to create an attacking move. To provide him with playable balls, they think of Gerrard, Xabi Alonso and even Pepe Reina with his superlong deliveries. Rafa wants him to be the ultimate Number 9, like Ronaldo or Van Nistelrooy, always inside the opponents’ penalty area and not a second striker, which is how other managers like Luis Aragonés wanted to use him. He wants him to exploit
the spaces that are created when a team advances and for him to get behind the opposing team’s defenders.

It’s no easy thing to absorb all the tuition in one go, in the same way that it’s not easy to adapt oneself to the club, to the fans, to football ‘across the Channel’, to speaking English, to the city, to a new country, to the food and even to driving on the left. Fernando Torres applies himself with determination and commitment. When he arrived, they gave him a pile of DVDs and books about the story, the traditions and the great champions of the Reds. Among them there is even one about the Kop. And some time later, he admits that he has kept it and read it. He researched in depth because he himself grew up in Atlético and, as captain, he had the task of explaining the values of the club to every newcomer who had to understand the origins, the passion for the club colours, to know the famous champions of the past, so that they have the necessary reference points to avoid feeling like a fish out of water.

While studying, he realises that he’s arrived at a club that is even bigger and more important than he imagined. A club which functions well, where everyone has a clear role, where no one sticks their nose into other people’s work, as happened at Atlético. English? Ah yes, English – or rather the scouse dialect – is a big problem. Even if, right from the first day, the club has put Rob, a private teacher and fanatical supporter, at his side, even if he has lessons every time he has a moment to breathe. He reads what Rob suggests to him and even watches
Friends
in the original English language version (he already knew the dialogue in Spanish and some of the easier bits), which requires time and patience. During the first few days he admits to understanding absolutely nothing. The people of Liverpool speak at an incredible speed and their accent is an enigma, even for some English people. But he wants to learn so that he
can understand and be understood by his team-mates on the pitch, to be able to talk with the fans, to be able to give a press conference without having to resort to the translator. To be sure of saying what he really wants to say. He’s already set the target of the end of the year, or at most, the first months of the next, to make his debut in front of the media. ‘Man on’ and ‘Time’ are the first words of the football vocabulary that he learns. Essentials in order not to let your opponent get the better of you and why the manager’s technical explanations are in English. In the dressing room, Rafa makes it clear that the only language to be spoken is that of William Shakespeare. There’s trouble if he sees Torres whispering in Spanish to Pepe Reina. Just like at school, he sends one to one side of the room and the other to the other. And he repeats patiently, ‘English, please.’ Of course, if there’s a need for a personal explanation, the gaffer is happy to relent and does it in Spanish. Like Pepe, who, in terms of helping him adapt to the club and the city, its customs and practices, has been fundamental – even if, later, when Fernando begins to speak in English in public, he doesn’t hold back from taking the mickey, as is his custom.

Fernando goes to live in Woolton in a house with a garden where, a few months later, his two boxer dogs, Pomo and Llanta can amuse themselves. It’s a small detached house, which has been left empty by former Liverpool player, Boudewijn Zenden. He likes the area and it also has the advantage of being about 50 metres from the home of Pepe Reina and his wife, Yolanda. A few months later, Olalla will join Fernando and the two couples will become firm friends. Meanwhile, Fernando also has to adapt himself to a city so different from Madrid, which he knew like the back of his hand, where he knew all the routes almost automatically, and his family was nearby. On the few times Fernando
has been out and about in his Audi Q7, going very slowly and carefully because of the right-hand drive (the first few trips were very hard and he went the whole time down the middle of the road), he discovers Liverpool to be a friendly, quiet city, where, finally, he can lead a normal life. Where, after training, he can go to eat in the centre with Pepe Reina without anyone bothering him. He can walk into a shopping centre like the Met Quarter or the Trafford Centre, outside Manchester, without being mobbed by supporters. A pleasure and a novelty for a footballer, who, in a now distant 2003, was walking in the La Vaguada shopping centre in Madrid with the aim of buying a pair of shoes and ended up being surrounded by so many fans that the security staff had to close all the entrances so that he could get out safely. But in Liverpool the supporters are polite and prepared to wait hours for a photo or an autograph. ‘It’s a city’, explains The Kid, ‘where, if you give them what they want, they give you everything, and not only on the pitch.’ Indeed, on the pitch. He has to get the measure of the fast, powerful and physical football in England, with its high rhythm, where you can’t take a breather even for a minute, where each time your defenders get the ball you’re in front of your opponents’ goal within three passes and in with a chance to create something. Different from the slower Spanish football, where the little touches are important, where the possession of the ball, for many teams, is an absolute imperative. Fernando had always said the English style was something he could get his teeth into. Now he’s seeing whether it really is to his liking.

It’s Tuesday, 17 July, when he wears the Liverpool shirt on a pitch for the first time. Incidentally, the one he wore at his presentation was put up for auction to raise funds for cancer research. The winning bidder was an Irish businessman, a die-hard fan of the club, who paid 7,300 Euros (just
over £6,000). Coming back to the long-awaited debut, it’s the third friendly of the pre-season against the German side, Werder Bremen. Fernando comes on in the 64th minute in place of Andriy Voronin, who has scored the first and third goals for the Reds (the final score will be 3-2 for Benítez’s side). He plays for 26 minutes, despite a slight ankle problem. He has two good opportunities – one, when he gets the ball at his feet after a short kick by the keeper, but in the end shoots it straight back to the goalie, and the other when a long shot skims the bar. The friendlies continue in the Far East. From 24–27 July, Liverpool takes part in the Barclays Asia Trophy in Hong Kong, where they play against South China. This is not a good moment for Fernando. Actually to see him score, you need to go to the Port of Rotterdam Tournament on 3 August. He comes on in place of Jermaine Pennant and scores against Shanghai Shenhua. It’s a friendly of little value, the eighth of the pre-season, but a goal always goes down well. As Benítez says: ‘It’ll give him a lot of confidence with respect to the new season,’ and to those who harbour doubts about his new acquisition, he replies: ‘It reminds me of when Crouch signed for us. Everyone was asking when he would score his first goal. Now Torres has done it and he’s got rid of that pressure.’ The Premier League begins on 11 August.

The first match is away at Aston Villa. The Kid is nervous and excited. He wants to make a good impression, he wants to score but fails. On seventeen minutes, a great left-foot shot goes high. In the 31st minute, he seems made. He picks up a loose ball on the edge of the area, goes round his marker and has only keeper Stuart Taylor to beat. He tries a shot with his left but it’s parried by the keeper. With the ball still in play, Dirk Kuyt gets halfway there before the defender and Villa captain, Martin Laursen, puts it into his own net: 1-0. Torres will reflect on that one. Then the captain takes
care of things with a penalty to close the account on 1-2. A safe victory, Torres has been able to show his colours and show that he has learned the signals of the gaffer, who declares: ‘I’m very satisfied with the way that Fernando has played his first match against Aston Villa. Normally, players take their time to get established but it looks like he has adapted very well.’

But there’s a snag that has to be overcome – a goal. The drought continues on Wednesday, 15 August, in France in the Champions League qualifying round game against Toulouse. Fernando only plays the last twelve minutes, coming on for Voronin. He makes his big entry. After six years of futile attempts, he’s in the top European club competition. But he doesn’t score. And the old, old ghost that’s pursued him for a long time (that of making too many mistakes) reappears. Four days later it disappears. Despite John Terry giving him a hard time and being determined to make Torres understand exactly what kind of footballing world he’s entered, The Kid can open his arms to the goal. And it’s only the first of an endless sequence.