Riquelme — Football Of Suits And Ties
When you talk about Argentina, three things come to mind: tango, football and drama. Porteño football, like a dramatic tango, has not seen a world champion for 32 years. But if on the one hand the younger ones have not been able to see the poetry that is to conquer the world, at least they could watch another kind of Argentine poetry: Juan Roman Riquelme’s soccer.
In love with football since he was a child, Juan Roman learned his dribbling in San Fernando’s humble clay fields, but it was not long before he set foot on a pitch. It was in Argentino Juniors that he was able to demonstrate his class and his unique way of handling the ball for the first time, but it was in another “Juniors” that he really started to shine like a professional: at Boca Juniors.
Riquelme was never a player of physical contact or exacerbated race. He was a player only of the ball, not of the opponent. With “la pelota”, he dribbled past opponents like nobody else, because he did not do it for vanity, but for the pure beauty of the dribble, treating the ball well. He envisioned the game as a show where viewers needed the best to watch and did his best with his game vision, his way of taking on fieldwork and seeing spaces to pass the ball through their opponents. Such class he boasted that he often cleaned and kissed the ball before putting it back in play.
And it was with such affection for the football, for his way of seeing the game, that he happened to have that love returned. By the ball, through titles that included the Argentine Championship and 3 Copa Libertadores, and by the people, making him one of the most lauded to ever carry the number 10 shirt of the Xeneize club.
Such love of bosteros for Riquelme and of Riquelme for the ball caught Barcelona’s attention and at the request of its president, the Spanish club took him to Catalonia. Coach Van Gaal however wanted to adapt his playing style, but Riquelme was not a player meant to change his ways. His personality may not be the strongest, but the personality of his football was, and this, not fitting the Catalans model, made him move to Villarreal.
In the yellow submarine, Juan Roman was finally able to show why he was enchanted as a tango in Argentina and why he crossed the sea to play in Europe. Alongside another Latino, Diego Forlán, he led the team to the semifinals of the Champions League. More than that, it took to Spanish football his Latin level of soccer, which showcased not only the well-known “South American race” but also loads of class.
The player, however, wanted to continue his story where it started. Not in the fields of San Fernando, but in Argentine lawns, where he was applauded weekly by whoever went to see him. As a dramatic tango story, Riquelme ended his cycle in some sort of sad way. Because of the politics of the club that once best treated him, he could not say goodbye to the fans who loved him the most. He ended up having a farewell in the first Juniors that hosted him: Argentinos. For some Xeneizes, though, it was better that way. When one does not say goodbye to someone, deep down there is a false hope that one day he will return. As president or on a role of that vein, probably, but as someone who like nobody knows how to treat soccer well wherever the ball rolls.
