Torres: An Intimate Portrait of the Kid Who Became King

the physiotherapists, we have decided that the best thing is for me to stay in Liverpool because I would lose two days of recuperation. At this stage in the season, we cannot permit that kind of luxury. As the fans of Atlético are already more than aware, I want to play again as soon as possible and I’m working to get myself ready.’ He adds that, for him, not being able to play at the Calderón is very upsetting. He doesn’t use these words lightly, because ever since Atlético and Liverpool were drawn together in Group D, he’s been longing for 22 October with the expectation of a child anticipating the visit of Father Christmas: ‘I really can’t wait for the match at the Calderón to arrive. I feel curious about what my return will be like and how the fans will greet me, although I’m convinced they have good memories, as do I.’
    At first, the game’s venue seems in doubt: after police clashes with Marseille fans and racist abuse was targeted at Marseille’s black players, UEFA decides to sanction Atlético by moving the club’s next two scheduled home games. But the punishment is suspended, and the game will be played at the Calderón. Torres will be back after sixteen months’ absence and is already imagining what he will do. He’ll arrive at the stadium and greet many friends, then get changed – something strange – in the visitors’ dressing room. He’ll run onto the field acknowledging the cheers of the fans, he’ll be there in the official photo with the ballboys he knows so well. If he scores, he won’t celebrate – it would be silly, a lack of respect for the place, and for the people who watched him grow as a footballer. But he’s sure to play the best he can. He wants to put in an unforgettable performance and help his Liverpool team to victory. But all these ideas and dreams are put to one side. However, even if Fernando Torres doesn’t set foot on the pitch at the Calderón, no one’s going to forget about him – no one among the 3,000 Reds travelling from Liverpool and no one among the 50,000 Atlético fans. The two groups of fans merge together and arrive at the stadium together peacefully. Once inside, they all invoke the name of their idol. The Atlético fans sing out to Fernando as they always have, to the tune of ‘Can’t take my eyes off of you’. The Anfield faithful respond with ‘Liverpool’s Number Nine’. And then, at the end of the game, the visitors sing out ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, and the whole stadium erupts in applause. A great evening for the supporters, who head home happy with a draw that does both sides justice.
    For the return leg at Anfield, Torres looks to have recovered. Rafa Benítez gives him a 70 per cent chance of playing. It’s not clear if he’ll make the starting line-up, or if he’ll be on the bench, but everyone’s counting on the Number 9. They know he’s desperate to play. He himself hopes he’ll pull through, but on the morning of the game he fails a fitness test. There’s nothing he can do: ‘It seems I’m cursed,’ he says. Unfortunately, during the first half of the season, injuries among the forwards are a regular problem for the Reds. These injuries prevent Liverpool from unleashing the torrent of goals of the previous season. Fernando scores again on 1 February (twice against Chelsea) – it’s eight months since his last home goal and 119 days since his last Premiership goal (5 October against Manchester City). Even if he’s unlucky on the evening of Tuesday, 4 November, Fernando Torres is still at Anfield. An hour before kick-off, accompanied by Olalla, he walks onto the field to respond to the Atlético fans gathered in the Century Stand. ‘Fernando Torres! Fernando Torres!’ they shout enthusiastically. And then, inside the stadium, many reunions with people he’s known for much of his life. The game begins and the TV cameras pick him up. The Kop starts to sing. Maxi, his Argentine ex-team-mate, disappoints him by putting the
rojiblancos
one up.
    Fernando closes his eyes and bites his lip, but when he sees the joy of the Atlético players his irritation passes. Liverpool push forward, creating chances, but can’t make the breakthrough. The Number 9 despairs. He throws up an arm as Liverpool claim a penalty after Perea handles. He seems to press his team-mates to play more efficiently. He swears as a chance goes begging. The clock shows 93 minutes and 43 seconds – the game looks to be over, but