Calling time on the great 'if only' - 7M sport

Calling time on the great 'if only'



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Posted Saturday, March 12, 2011 by UK.eurosport.yahoo.com

Calling time on the great 'if only'

There is not much that boosts a footballer's reputation quite like absence. Miss out on error, watch from the stand as humiliation unfolds, sit in the treatment room as defeat follows defeat, and see how your standing grows. Soon, as the clamour for your return increases, you become less an injured athlete and more the missing link, the one person who could make a difference, the new messiah.

There is a footballer who, right now as he languishes on the physio's table, can do no wrong. One player, as he seeks specialist help and scours the medical encyclopaedia, whose presence would be lauded to the skies by fans of both club and country. A player, moreover, whose very area of expertise is so woefully under-served in both causes. Such is the legend growing up around him, his re-emergence would be enough to spark dancing in the streets. Sadly, the news emerging from Old Trafford is that that is not going to happen. As has been long suspected, for this heroic absentee it appears to be all over. Owen Hargreaves isn't coming back.

When the obituaries to the Canadian-Welsh-Englishman's career are written, a special part in them should be reserved for Ian Wright. Showing all the acute observation that has long characterised his punditry, Wright insisted, when Hargreaves was picked for England's 2006 World Cup party, that he must be the manager Sven Goran Eriksson's love child. There could be no other reason for his inclusion, Wrighty opined, certainly not ahead of other players who were left back in Blighty, like, for instance, Shaun Wright-Phillips.

If Wrighty is afflicted by any sense of embarrassment, how those words would have come back to bite his ankles. Hargreaves was magnificent in that tournament, entirely justifying Eriksson's faith, emerging as easily England's best player; not just a defensive shield in the Claude Makelele manner, but a driving force in midfield, an intelligent, probing, passing all-rounder. Plus, unlike some of his colleagues, he could take a penalty like a German.

His progress was then stymied by a broken leg, but once he signed for Manchester United from Bayern, English fans were treated to the full range of his athleticism. Eventually. At first his manager Alex Ferguson seemed suspicious of his manner, his intelligence, his North American openness to the media, using him only sparingly. So sparingly that rumours quickly circulated about his unusualness. A reporter was dispatched to Carrington once from BBC Wales, his assignment to interview a player rumoured to be a fluent Welsh speaker. When confronted, the man brought up in Canada, schooled in Germany and playing for England hadn't a clue what the bloke was talking about.

By the time the 2008 European Cup final came round, however, he had convinced Ferguson of his effectiveness and was a regular in the side. His big-game mentality was at its best that night against Chelsea, when he seemed not remotely phased by the meaning and significance of the occasion, giving a performance of real class and maturity. There are many reasons why today's United side is inferior to the one that won in Moscow - the departure of Ronaldo and Tevez, the ageing of Giggs and Scholes, the decline of Michael Carrick - but the absence of Hargreaves, who looked that night as if he might develop into Europe's pre-eminent holding midfielder, is perhaps the most telling.

And so it is for England. After 2006, it appeared there was something serious to build on. The two Coles, Ashley and Joe, the mercurial Rooney, and Hargreaves: it was quite a spine that was on the verge of developing. As it turned out, we all know what happened: Rooney imploded, Joe Cole disappeared, Ashley Cole became absorbed by celebrity and Hargreaves was crocked. And England subsequently, even with the finest coach in the world at the controls, sank into oblivion.

Hargreaves's battles with injury began almost immediately after that night in Russia. His knees inflated like barrage balloons. He was out for 18 months with tendinitis, marooned on only 25 starts for United. The 26th came last November, when he was picked for the home game against Wolves. Even as the crowd were absorbing the news, even as they dreamed of the influence he could have on the game, the return was all over. Pitifully, his hamstring went within five minutes, in his first venture down the wing. A three-week injury for most, for Hargreaves it turned into a four-month nightmare. Now, he is in Germany seeking a last-ditch solution to save his career. Sadly, the news is, it does not appear forthcoming.

Thus he joins the roll-call of those who tantalised and then disappeared. Dean Ashton at West Ham, Paul Lake and Michael Johnson at Manchester City, Ian Storey-Moore and Ronny Johnsen at United: it is quite a list of lost messiahs, their elevated status now untouchable by loss of form or favour. Given that Hargreaves should be captaining his club and country, however, the fact that he is so fondly remembered, the fact that 90 per cent of the crowd at Old Trafford tomorrow evening would consider themselves blessed to be there if his name appeared on the team sheet, will be of little consolation. To him. Or to us.



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