It was only appropriate that the number 8 flashed in red when the fourth official held up the board, and while what followed may have been played down, if not declared irrelevant by the Liverpool skipper, the scenes at Stamford Bridge on May 10, 2015 were merely a testament to the footballing life of one of England’s greatest ever, Steven Gerrard.
Liverpool’s Best, England’s Finest
There is not much left that hasn’t been said about the on-pitch contribution of Steven Gerrard to both his club and country. It is, however, everything else that he brought to the game and those around it, which probably made Jose Mourinho emotionally applaud his “favourite enemy” off the pitch.
They say no one loves you like the Kop, but to make the most ardent of Liverpool fans cutting across generations consider you a talisman for their club, is something many have tried but few have achieved. It can be argued that no other player is symbolic of Liverpool’s identity than Gerrard. He provided a soul and a face to an often soulless and faceless team, giving it direction, purpose and an unmistakable identity.
The Face of the Premier League
During the worldwide explosion of the Premier League, no one ever thought that a football match being played in the north-west of England would turn millions into fans overnight. In the absence of a geographical connect, it were the players who became heroes, and the loyalty to the name on the back determined the badge on the front.
Gerrard, along with the Rooneys and the Lampards, are what the overwhelming majority in Asia, Africa, and the USA identify the Premier League with. Though they might not be acquainted with a lot of pre-history, the fierce loyalty of these self-anointed super fans can seldom be questioned. To say that Liverpool, the club and the brand would be poorer without him would be stating the obvious, but the fear in and around Anfield is that they don’t even know yet how much, and where all this absence will strike the most.
The man who Shunned Excesses
Gerrard, despite his superstar status, has often been somewhat of an anti-modern footballer. In the age of the mercenary, he chose to sacrifice a glittering trophy cabinet to stay a one-club man. He consistently delivered in the big games, often carrying mediocre teams along, and despite never being short of an honest word, his squeaky clean image led the tabloids to give up on him a long time ago.
From Martin Tyler’s unforgettable description of his 30 yard screamers, to the camera kiss; from Istanbul and everything it brought, to the hair raising songs of approval at Anfield — it is almost impossible to quantify what we will miss about the man; and in the age of short-term public memory and overnight heroes, one must make sure that the slips and the stomps are nothing but ink stains on what is undoubtedly, an old fashioned masterpiece. They really don’t make them like him anymore. Just ask Mourinho.
(Saurabh Mehta is a sports lawyer by qualification. In his spare time, he tries to catch up on as much sport as possible and plan his next holiday around a major sporting event.)
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