Despair and joy: The return of Fernando Torres
By Eric McCoy
As Atletico Madrid take on Real Madrid on Saturday in the Champions League final, former Chelsea FC flop Fernando Torres could crown a return to the top.
Despair. Dejection. Desperation.
One goal scored in 23 appearances for Chelsea. One goal. One rain-soaked goal against lowly West Ham was all that existed to justify £50 million.
Each step Fernando Torres made on the pitch was done with the deliberation of a high-wire tightrope walker. A symphony of doubt being performed by pundits and fans alike blared in his ears and zapped any trace of the free flowing, carefree abandon that exists in players that actually enjoy playing the sport.
It was early in Torres’ second season with Chelsea, and not much had occurred to suggest it would be any better than his dismal first. The games were coming and going, but his goal tally remained stuck on that loneliest of figures.
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Torres himself was becoming an increasingly lonely-looking figure. 21 other players could be on the field with him, and all eyes in the stadium and all cameras broadcasting the match, would be fixated on Torres nervously pushing his famous blonde hair back behind his ears after yet another errant shot or poor pass. His body again failing to do what it had done so naturally at Liverpool.
Next up for the Blues that campaign was their first big league test of the season against Manchester United at Old Trafford. It would be a big test for Chelsea and a big test for Torres, who was given the start despite his continued struggles.
At halftime of the match, both club and player were failing their respective tests miserably. Like a sad, old man searching in vain for buried gold on the beach, Torres had again not found the back of the net. No one for Chelsea had found the back of the net. The Red Devils had found it three times.
Play resumed for the second half and Chelsea immediately looked determined to make up for their awful first 45 minutes. Mere seconds had passed when Nicolas Anelka found himself on the ball with little disruption being caused by United’s defenders.
He spotted Torres having renewed his lease on the shoulder of an opposing center back, and he decided to play a laser-guided missile of a pass forward to the sputtering striker.
Myriad possibilities of failure danced in the heads of those watching.
One goal. 23 appearances.
The symphony was reaching its crescendo.
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Torres collected the pass and coolly placed the ball over the befuddled arms of United goalkeeper David de Gea. Chelsea were on the board, and visions of Torres returning to the feared number nine of his past ever so cautiously began to form.
A frenetic second half progressed on and United remained in front of Chelsea 3-1. There was a Wayne Rooney penalty slip-and-miss that seemed destined to be the viral clip everyone laughed about during the forthcoming week, but the 83rd minute produced something even more infamous.
Chelsea were frantically pushing their attack forward when Torres again evoked the more successful prior version of himself. He peeled away from United’s central defenders with only de Gea standing in front of him.
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A perfectly weighted pass from Ramires awaited Torres. A quick flick of the ball to the left dispatched of de Gea’s resistance. A goal, and thousands of “El Nino’s Back!” proclamations seemed inevitable.
Torres glanced back and forth between the empty net and the ball and took his shot. The ball went to the left of the net and into the stands. Torres slouched to his knees.
Despair. Dejection. Desperation.
On April 5th, 2016 Fernando Torres again found himself in the starting lineup for a big match.
Barcelona. Atletico Madrid. Champions League quarter-final.
A loan back to his boyhood club in Madrid via AC Milan had been the catalyst for an unexpected late-career renaissance. Not quite the terrifying figure of his Liverpool days, but also more potent than the hapless doppelganger that wore his Chelsea shirt, Torres was at least significant again.
In the 25th minute of the match Torres was (you guessed it) on the shoulder of Barcelona’s last defender, Dani Alves. Atletico midfield wizard Koke knew this was the time to play Torres a pass. The ball bounced into the box, but Torres didn’t quite have his former speed to blaze past Alves’ intrusion.
With the Barcelona defender bearing down, a quick snap of his right leg was all the action that the situation allowed for. The shot bounded through Barca keeper Marc-Andre ter Stegen’s legs and into the back of the net.
1-0 Atletico. A crucial away goal at Camp Nou. Torres’ return from footballing purgatory back to relevance felt complete.
The television cameras focused on Torres celebrating with his teammates. Gone was the despair-filled gaze he had previously trademarked. The gaze of someone consumed with the burden of trying to replicate the past. In this particular moment, Torres had the look of someone filled with something else entirely: joy.
As much as things have changed for Torres since his time with Chelsea, however, they do still somewhat remain the same. Around ten minutes after that triumphant opening goal, Torres was sent off for receiving a second yellow card in only the 35th minute of the match. It was a moment of brilliance and a moment of madness, much like his day in Manchester nearly five years ago.
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A question mark hangs over the expectations for Torres heading into this Saturday’s Champions League final against Real Madrid. The symphony of doubt may still be lingering with its final notes, or perhaps recent successes have vanquished those demons. Regardless of what happens, Fernando Torres is a significant topic of discussion again. And in that sense, El Nino is back.