Torres (17 page)
Atlético de Madrid 1 Liverpool 1
22 October 2008
No, El Niño isn’t here tonight. Not on the pitch and not in the stands of the Vicente Calderón stadium. The previous week in Brussels, at the King Baudouin stadium, against Belgium, his luck runs out. Twelve minutes into the game the Number 9 of Spain’s national side feels an intense pain in his thigh. He pulls up and asks to go off. At the end of the game (1-2 in Spain’s favour) Fernando leaves, head bowed, without speaking to the journalists waiting for him. His return home to Atlético the following week for a Champions League tie is now in doubt. The verdict, which comes the next day, leaves no room for appeal: a small tear in his right hamstring. The same problem he suffered back in August. The prognosis: three weeks out.
Enrique Cerezo, the president of Atlético, invites him anyhow through Rafael Benítez. His manager gives the green light but Fernando says he won’t be able to be there. The insignia of gold and diamonds that his ex-team-mates have wanted to give him to recognise his years of service to the club will have to wait for another time. On his website he expresses his gratitude and apologises to the fans of his former club, saying: ‘After meeting with the manager, the doctor and the physiotherapists, we have decided that the best thing is for me to stay in Liverpool because I would lose two days of recuperation. At this stage in the season,
we cannot permit that kind of luxury. As the fans of Atlético are already more than aware, I want to play again as soon as possible and I’m working to get myself ready.’ He adds that, for him, not being able to play at the Calderón is very upsetting. He doesn’t use these words lightly, because ever since Atlético and Liverpool were drawn together in Group D, he’s been longing for 22 October with the expectation of a child anticipating the visit of Father Christmas: ‘I really can’t wait for the match at the Calderón to arrive. I feel curious about what my return will be like and how the fans will greet me, although I’m convinced they have good memories, as do I.’
At first, the game’s venue seems in doubt: after police clashes with Marseille fans and racist abuse was targeted at Marseille’s black players, UEFA decides to sanction Atlético by moving the club’s next two scheduled home games. But the punishment is suspended, and the game will be played at the Calderón. Torres will be back after sixteen months’ absence and is already imagining what he will do. He’ll arrive at the stadium and greet many friends, then get changed – something strange – in the visitors’ dressing room. He’ll run onto the field acknowledging the cheers of the fans, he’ll be there in the official photo with the ballboys he knows so well. If he scores, he won’t celebrate – it would be silly, a lack of respect for the place, and for the people who watched him grow as a footballer. But he’s sure to play the best he can. He wants to put in an unforgettable performance and help his Liverpool team to victory. But all these ideas and dreams are put to one side. However, even if Fernando Torres doesn’t set foot on the pitch at the Calderón, no one’s going to forget about him – no one among the 3,000 Reds travelling from Liverpool and no one among the 50,000 Atlético fans. The two groups of fans merge together and arrive at the stadium together
peacefully. Once inside, they all invoke the name of their idol. The Atlético fans sing out to Fernando as they always have, to the tune of ‘Can’t take my eyes off of you’. The Anfield faithful respond with ‘Liverpool’s Number Nine’. And then, at the end of the game, the visitors sing out ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, and the whole stadium erupts in applause. A great evening for the supporters, who head home happy with a draw that does both sides justice.
For the return leg at Anfield, Torres looks to have recovered. Rafa Benítez gives him a 70 per cent chance of playing. It’s not clear if he’ll make the starting line-up, or if he’ll be on the bench, but everyone’s counting on the Number 9. They know he’s desperate to play. He himself hopes he’ll pull through, but on the morning of the game he fails a fitness test. There’s nothing he can do: ‘It seems I’m cursed,’ he says. Unfortunately, during the first half of the season, injuries among the forwards are a regular problem for the Reds. These injuries prevent Liverpool from unleashing the torrent of goals of the previous season. Fernando scores again on 1 February (twice against Chelsea) – it’s eight months since his last home goal and 119 days since his last Premiership goal (5 October against Manchester City). Even if he’s unlucky on the evening of Tuesday, 4 November, Fernando Torres is still at Anfield. An hour before kick-off, accompanied by Olalla, he walks onto the field to respond to the Atlético fans gathered in the Century Stand. ‘Fernando Torres! Fernando Torres!’ they shout enthusiastically. And then, inside the stadium, many reunions with people he’s known for much of his life. The game begins and the TV cameras pick him up. The Kop starts to sing. Maxi, his Argentine ex-team-mate, disappoints him by putting the
rojiblancos
one up.
Fernando closes his eyes and bites his lip, but when he sees the joy of the Atlético players his irritation passes.
Liverpool push forward, creating chances, but can’t make the breakthrough. The Number 9 despairs. He throws up an arm as Liverpool claim a penalty after Perea handles. He seems to press his team-mates to play more efficiently. He swears as a chance goes begging. The clock shows 93 minutes and 43 seconds – the game looks to be over, but then the referee blows for a penalty that leaves the visitors fuming. To them, nothing happened. Robbery, plain and simple. At first, Torres does not react, but then applauds the decision. Gerrard steps up. As usual, El Niño doesn’t want to watch his team taking a penalty. This time he doesn’t know what to do. He buries his face in his hands and hardly dares look. A goal. He waves his fists and celebrates his captain’s goal, a gesture that earns the reproach of one of the visitors from Madrid. El Niño can’t understand why. For him it’s logical to celebrate. No treachery, no mistake. It’s a view shared by the members of the
Peña Atlética Fernando Torres
fan club from Fuenlabrada. That Tuesday in November they’re at Anfield, together with 2,600 other
rojiblancos
. They’re surprised by the affection in which their hero is held by Liverpool fans. They swap scarves, flags, handshakes, addresses and pictures of El Niño (2009 calendars printed by the
Peña
with a photo of Fernando as a youngster or celebrating Spain’s Euro 2008 victory). They’ve even managed to hang their scarves around the mannequin sporting Torres’ shirt in the Liverpool Club Store, in Williamson Square in the heart of the city.
The night when Spain play in Seville against Fabio Capello’s England, they turn up at Tommy’s Café in Calle Ferrocarril street in Fuenlabrada. It’s just down the road from the station underpass where Moroccan immigrants are drinking mint tea, eating kebabs and anxiously watching their national side playing a friendly in Casablanca
against the Czech Republic. Spain’s game, however, has not yet kicked off.
It’s nine o’clock and there’s time, over a beer and a plate of well-cut cured loin of pork, for Pasqual Blázquez, José Antonio Camacho and Tony Roldán to swap stories. They are three of the members of the
Peña
, which has some 150 members and continues to keep its full name, even though El Niño has long since left Atlético. They’ve known Fernando since he was a child and followed his progress from the juniors to the first team. On the wall, a newspaper cutting recalls Fernando’s first call-up to the national side under Iñaki Sáez. A signed Liverpool shirt is a symbol of the present. There are photos of the blond, freckled lad with the president, the secretary and the treasurer, which show a mutual respect. Fernando, a traitor? Not at all. ‘There are no recriminations against him. He’s gone because the club didn’t respond with the signing he wanted. They didn’t know how to build a competitive team that could fight in Europe. Fernando has done an awful lot for Atlético. There’s nothing to reproach him for,’ says Roldán. ‘He’s been our flag-bearer – one of the greatest in our footballing history. He’s at the same level as Gárate, the most effective Number 9 we’ve ever had ( José Eulogio Gárate, an Argentinian from Sarandi who played eleven seasons with Atlético, scoring a total of 123 goals) and at the same level of Adelardo (Adelardo Rodríguez Sánchez, seventeen seasons between 1959 and 1976, and 112 goals) or even Aragonés himself,’ explains Camacho.
‘Real Madrid had Raúl and we had El Niño,’ adds Pascual. ‘His departure was necessary, above all because he needed to measure himself against the great European players and so, signing for Liverpool has been good for him. But his transfer has also been beneficial for the club, which has been able to sign Simao, Luis García and Diego Forlán and
one has to say that the Uruguayan is doing very well. We will see if they also sell him.’
Roldán interrupts the thoughts of Camacho: ‘Have you seen the last interview with El Niño, saying that he will never go to Real Madrid. He’s a player who feels the club colours, which is a difficult thing in this era of millions.’
The three of them chat about values, about feelings for Atlético. They tell their guest that, to be a
rojiblanco
is almost like a religious calling. ‘You believe and you go on believing, even if miracles don’t happen. It’s important not to lose faith.’ They recall that Chamartín (the Bernabéu, the stadium of their main rivals) is like an opera, with everyone seemingly reluctant to get involved in the game. The Calderón, on the other hand, is where to find passion for real football. ‘Indeed, it is almost the same atmosphere as it is in Anfield. The fans are similar and absolutely in love with Fernando. We have met him recently and he’s very happy there. His father told me that as well,’ confirms Camacho. And he explains: ‘I was sure he was going to be successful because there they play in the same style as Fernando.’
They remember the time of Jesús Gil, someone points out that, with him, Torres never had problems and that, in fact, he was always protected by Gil. And he was opposed to the sale of his crown jewel against the opinion of many who thought that the player was at the top of his game and therefore should be sold before his value declined. Camacho goes back in time to remember the shy boy, who, when playing with
Mario’s Holanda
, succeeded in filling the stadium. He talks about Torres’ family in complimentary terms.
Roldán comes back to the present, to 29 June 2008, when the bar was packed to the rafters and nobody from the
Peña
or from the neighbourhood wanted to miss El Niño’s final: ‘We were all convinced that he was going to score that day. It’s a shame’, adds Pasqual, ‘that he never got to play at the
Calderón, but we’re confident that he’ll come back one day to finish his career here, where he started, where people still think so much of him.’ The conversation ends. The television is showing the start of Spain v England and El Niño is on the pitch.
A danger
Conversation with Liverpool and Spain defender, Álvaro Arbeloa
The shirt is red, but over the part which covers the heart is the badge of the Spanish national team, the Real Federación Española de Fútbol (Royal Spanish Football Federation). Sitting on the steps that lead to the residential area of the Federation’s Ciudad del Fútbol de Las Rozas training complex, 12 miles from the centre of Madrid, the former Real Madrid and Deportivo La Coruña player – currently Liverpool’s Number 17 – chats away happily. The weather is wonderful – a deep-blue sky without a cloud in sight, and on the horizon, the tops of the Sierra mountains still covered with a light sprinkling of snow, while the sun beats down with almost summer-like strength.
‘At Liverpool, we dream of weather like this. It only happens a few times a year,’ laughs Spain’s Number 26 from the western city of Salamanca. The training session for the national side is scheduled to take place in the late afternoon. Before that there is time to ask a few questions.
‘Yes, a lot. It’s normal because we don’t have a squad like Manchester United. If they don’t have Rooney, they can bring on Tévez, if they don’t have Tévez, they can use
Berbatov. We have Fernando, who is the best in the world and when he is missing, it shows. When he’s there, upfront, you know that he is going to ‘create danger’ at any moment because his presence alone creates insecurity and Kuyt, Riera and Steve take advantage of that. When he’s on the pitch, he gives us total confidence.’
‘It was very important, above all because we’d just come from four consecutive draws. We weren’t in a good situation; we’d lost the league leadership and second place as well. If we didn’t beat the Blues we’d be several points adrift of Manchester United. We were better than them but the ball just wasn’t hitting the back of the net. Luckily, in the end, came the two goals from Torres.’
‘Fernando was coming back from injury. It had been months since he’d scored and, with just a few minutes remaining, he scored the first and then, in extra time, got the second. Well, everyone knows that for us, Fernando is hugely important.’
‘A danger, absolutely. I was lucky to play against him with Deportivo a few weeks before I left for Anfield. Fernando and I were talking about it just the other day.’
‘I think that one is always lucky to play against great players. Well, OK, as long as they don’t make it too bad for you. But the truth is that Fernando is a spectacular striker – he never
gives a ball up for lost; physically, he is a phenomenon, he has incredible power and, above all, enormous confidence in himself, which makes him one of the best in the world, if not the best.’
‘Well, I think it’s very important to play at a club like Liverpool, which is in the Champions League and competing for the Premier League title. It’s an international shop window – it’s clear that a player’s value increases. But one can’t ignore the fact that, in order to get there and to play at Anfield, you have to show your worth. And it’s no easy feat to be there. Fernando, apart from the fact that English football, because of its characteristics, suits him better, he doesn’t have the pressure that he had here (in Spain), he doesn’t have all the media on top of him. He’s been able to dedicate his time to training, improving his play and to enjoying his football, and that’s been really important. You could say he’s been let off the leash.’
‘There, he’s a legend like Ian Rush or Kenny Dalglish – players that spent years at Liverpool and won a lot of trophies. Fernando’s been compared to them and he has been put on the same level.’
‘It was a bit like going back to your childhood and reviving your idols. Once you are a footballer you forget when you were a kid and the excitement of seeing those players.
The day we had dinner with them, for Michael Robinson’s (Spanish TV) programme, it was like reliving those childhood years. They told stories about the matches and the victories of that Liverpool side and us three with our mouths open listening as if it was a fairy tale.’
‘Rafa Benítez has always wanted to get those values across, right from the start. He’s reorganised Melwood (Liverpool’s training ground), covering the walls with club legends, photos of the most distinguished players and the trophies which Liverpool has won. And later, this is passed on to you by people in the street or in Anfield and you realise that you’ve come to a club that’s very special. And right from the first day, you want to absorb its history.’
‘I don’t usually give much advice. It’s Pepe (Reina) and Xabi (Alonso) who do that. The first thing they make you understand is that it’s different in England. You don’t complain, you don’t throw yourself on the ground, you don’t try to engineer a free-kick. They encourage you to get yourself acclimatised on the pitch and give you help off it.’
‘Differences? A lot. To go from one country to another, you change language and habits, but above all you come across a footballing culture that’s completely different. You see it in a different way, you play a different way and the atmosphere is something else.’
‘English football is very physical. Much more contact is allowed. Sneaky or ‘smart alec’ behaviour doesn’t exist as it does in Spain and it’s very much looked down on. There’s also the difference in the crowd’s attitude to football. You could see this in the first knockout round of the Champions League. My ex-team-mates at Real Madrid were surprised because, following the half-time break, when they came back out on to the pitch – and they were losing – the Anfield fans applauded them. In the Bernabéu, when we came onto the field, we were greeted with whistles and insults.’
‘It was a victory to savour. It’s a good feeling to beat a big side like Real Madrid but it also hurts to see team-mates who’ve been your friends so dispirited by the defeat. But if I had to choose, I’d go for the Champions League knockout round against Barcelona. I have great memories of that match in the Camp Nou. It was my European debut with Liverpool and we won 1-2.’
‘Life’s good, calm. Above all, I appreciate the relaxed attitude with regards to the media. You don’t have to worry if this person has said that or another something else. You can just concentrate on playing football. Everything is very homely. Sometimes, with Fernando and Pepe, we meet up for dinner, but not much. We train, we have lunch and at home, I relax with my partner Carlota, or have a siesta. What you really appreciate is the incredibly warm welcome we’ve received, because very often in Spain, when a group of Dutch players arrive at Barcelona or Brazilians at Madrid, maybe they don’t get the same kind of welcome. Why? I don’t know. Maybe the people of Liverpool are very
welcoming and we are less so in Spain. At Anfield you see how the fans sing to Rafa, while here you very rarely hear a stadium sing to its manager.’
‘Rafa is very much on top of you, correcting your positions, studying your every movement on the pitch. For me, for example, when it’s my turn to play on his side of the pitch, I always listen to him. It’s as if he has a joystick to move me around – forwards, stay still, back. It’s true he gives a lot of orders but he improves all his players.’
La Gazzetta dello Sport
elected him as the best trainer, ahead of Sir Alex Ferguson, José Mourinho and Fabio Capello …
‘I haven’t worked with the others but I’m sure that Rafa is one of the best, especially because of the constant dedication he gives to his work. I think there are few managers that spend so many hours studying football like he does.’
‘See you, it’s been a pleasure,’ says Álvaro Aberloa as he moves off towards the training complex accommodation.
