My oh my. Adebayor? I still shiver at the sight of him. I mean, not out of fear, but my contempt for this guy rises with his every performance, missed dribble, incorrect pass, and salivating media statements about moving clubs.
Adebayor, tall, strong target man from Togo, has all the physical characteristics of a player who can succeed in the Premier League. Unfortunately, he is lot down by a selection of behaviours that are pretty much conductive to the seven capital sins, Manu being the pinnacle of the lazy, greedy, disloyal, arrogant, mercenary player, a mule with the work rate and mentality of a pheasant, someone who’d rather waste his talent on petty squabbling and endless phonecalls to his agent. Move me there, move me here, I’m not getting paid enough, my teammates are idiots and so is my coach, the president, the fans, the stewards and the coach driver. I just want to be adored…
Little adulation has come from Premier League fans so far. No wonder – fans of that particular league are used to good football, even from the less resonant names (go figure, someone called Odemwingie can warm hearts nowadays). In five seasons in England, Adebayor has not only got that wrong, but a lot more in the process.
Starting off with Metz after being spotted at U15 level, Adebayor moved to Monaco and was carving himself a decent career before being spotted, in turn, by Wenger’s scouts. He had to sit out of the European competitions that year but in turn made a decent job as a sub and occasional partner to Thierry Henry, in his last season at Arsenal. All seems to be nice and rosy.
Arsenal moved to Emirates and Adebayor moved up the ranks, partnering van Persie this time, going on to score eight Premiership goals. He literally exploded in his third season, scoring a gigantic 24 goals in the league alone together with a pearl of a goal against Villarreal in a Champions League quarter final. And while on the pitch he seemed to become Arsenal’s unstoppable force, off the pitch – specifically in the dressing room – he proved to be quite a disruptive one. His sudden rise to a form of unspecified power in the changing room was leading to tensions between the African clan and the Alliance Francaise. Things would boil over in a League Cup semifinal against Tottenham when he clashed with the other eminent primadonna, Nicklas Bendtner (who deserves a chapter of his own, but hey I’m writing a book here) on the pitch with William Gallas acting as an unlikely fireman.
After a summer spent flirting with the likes of Milan, Manchester City, even Tottenham and Juventus, Ade would return to Emirates to witness a most amazing fall from grace. Instead of the A-De-Ba-Yor chant ringing out from the terraces, the Togolese would become one of the favourite boo boys, transforming himself into an incredibly frustrating player who couldn’t hit the proverbial bull with a banjo. His easy misses almost prompted Tony Adams’ gran to train with Arsenal in a striking role position, seeing Bendtner wasn’t up to much more.
The Arsenal fans would finally have their way, after a season marked by frequent run-ins between players as Wenger seemed to lose control over the kids club. Adebayor packed his bags and left for sunny Manchester for a round fee, taking with him Kolo Toure who looked like the real leader at the heart of Arsenal’s defence. Word had it that Adebayor, Toure, Song and Eboue had ganged up together in the dressing room and were causing a lot of unnecessary ruckus. Why Eboue didn’t follow them remains a mystery, of course.
Adebayor’s career at Manchester City, so far, is hardly anything to write home about. He scores the occasional goal but spends much of his time on the pitch lingering and loitering uselessly like a whore at Disneyland. After Mark Hughes’ sacking (yes, that wonderful visionary) and the arrival of Roberto Mancini (yes, that Renaissance luminary) he is now on the fringes of the first team, touted as a possible outgoing transfer to Malaga, from one sheikh to the other. (I’m dying to see him loiter on the pitch in Spain. Will make an easy sitting duck for many defenders there.) Among the highlights of his otherwise uneventful career at City, a training ground scrap with Toure and a lot of other tensions with Mancini, the eternal motivator.
He would then reach an all time low in Manchester City’s 4-2 win against Arsenal, when he vindicated himself of his former fans in a gross, erudite manner as he first stamped on Robin van Persie (earning a 3 match in the process) and then crossing the length of the pitch to celebrate and provoke the Gunners enclosure after netting a goal (that cost him just a yellow card). Not even Joey Barton would be so brash. Maybe.
What future for Petulant Twat number 7? He’s had a close shave with gunmen in Africa, madmen in England, Frenchmen in France and so on. What price he ends up on the transfer market again in a year’s time?