Read In His Shadow Page 8

a record pace, but I didn’t feel like I had anything to prove to anyone. As long as I was scoring and the team was winning, it would be difficult for anyone else to win the Ballon D’Or over me.

  Little did I know a storm was brewing, in the guise of an 18 year old wunderkind from Japan. World soccer was about to be rocked to its core and I had no idea the bulls-eye was right on my back.

  Shinji Kanewa stands no more than 5’6 and that’s being generous because on first seeing him, he looks much smaller than advertised. A quiet kid with a diminutive frame, there’s nothing about him that screams superstar, but because of his deceptive appearance, many an opponent has dismissed him, only to rue doing so.

  This unassuming character hailing from Japan that normally wouldn’t get a second look in most busy cities is somewhat of an enigma. Till date I still find it incredible how the guy who looks like he is a member of the high school band can be blessed with so much talent on the field of play.

  A transformation seemingly happens when he steps on the field, going from church mouse to a beast of epic proportion. Unable to be contained by defenses, rampaging through any and all constructs set up to stop him. Simply calling him a freak of nature might be a disservice, because to move the way he does, gliding around the field, scoring and distributing the ball with such ease is really remarkable. In all of my days of playing, I don’t think I have ever seen a player move that fast with the ball. He turns like his legs are made of some gelatinous type of product. I consider myself fast which by no means am I trying to toot my own horn. I have left countless defenders in my wake; once I start bearing down full speed, it’s almost impossible to stop, but even I know when I am bested and this kid Kanewa is undoubtedly faster than me.

  I didn’t know much about him, until he single-highhandedly lead his national team to the Olympics gold. Then he was just a scrawny kid with talent, but in retrospect no one who had watched him back then, could have accurately predicted that he would have the type of impact he has had on the game so far.

  I mentioned earlier how on first seeing him, one does not think ‘world class athlete’ talk less one of the greats of the modern game.

  It’s a wonder how the ones we are quick to dismiss are sometimes the ones we should be paying the most attention to. Whilst he was breaking onto the world stage via the Olympics, our fellow Italian rivals Juventus were keeping close tabs on him, monitoring his progress and scheming ways to bring him into the fold. Of course they weren’t the only European team interested, but they were easily the most persistent.

  Luckily for them or maybe by some weird twist of fate, Juventus was Kanewa’s favorite team, giving them a leg up amongst his other suitors. It was a match made in sports heaven, one that was about to cause problems for the rest of the football world.

  He moved to Italy the season I won my second Ballon D’Or. I remember his signing was such a big deal back then, after all he was the first Asian player to be signed to Juventus and for a record fee. There was some controversy as to why an unproven player would warrant so much money, but after what he had done at the Olympics; those critics were mostly in the minority.

  I didn’t pay much attention to the move personally, I was on top of the world at that point in time, and the last thing I would be worried about was some new comer I had never heard of. With my second Ballon D’Or under the belt, I was somewhat confident that I could win it again the following year. It was arrogant and of course presumptuous to think no one could challenge and beat me for the trophy. In analyzing my likely completion for the award, I had completely ignored Kanewa, thinking he would not have that much of an impact that season.

  Boy was I wrong!

  We faced Juventus three times that year. Twice during the domestic season and at the finals of the Copa Italia. They beat us twice, including a thrilling win at the Copa, taking back the trophy we had always won since I arrived. In all three matches, they dominated us. In fact, if not for a last gasp goal, of which some would say I was off sides, we probably wouldn’t have beaten them the one time we did.

  It is weird how one player can come to a team and change their fortunes instantly. Juventus have always been a good team; a storied franchise with a lot of accolades to hang their hat on. For the past couple of years, they had fell on hard times. Scandal after scandal rocked the team, at one point even relegating them to a lower division. They had just gotten back on track, trying to put together a competitive squad to compete both domestically and internationally.

  We had beaten them silly the last two years; I probably scored more goals against them than any other Serie A outfit. Now, they looked different. They were hungry and played with so much passion, spear headed of course by their new dynamo, Kanewa! It felt like we were playing a completely different team. That first match was a wakeup call, not only to us but the rest of the world.

  They had arrived and wanted us to know they wouldn’t be bullied anymore. They thrashed us 3-1 in our home. Kanewa scored all three goals; we should have known at that point that he was going to be a thorn in our sides for years to come.

  It was tough accepting that there was not only another team to rival us in the Serie A, but also another player to shake things up on the world stage. We won the Serie A and the champions’ league that year but I believe it was because we had a more experienced team and our chemistry was more proven, having already played a few seasons together.

  Without this, Kanewa and Juventus would have won at least one of those trophies. In every competition we played that year, they were there breathing down our necks, giving us a run for our money. We had to go through them to get what we wanted and I remain proud of my teammates and what we accomplished.

  The Italian Serie A competition came down to the wire. Unlike previous years where we had run away with it from the onset, Juventus was neck and neck with us till the bitter end. You could say the gods of soccer were smiling at us because they drew their last game whilst we won ours outright. In the end, the title was ours by a two goal difference. We never fathomed at the start of the season that things would be that tight, neither did we expect Kanewa to impact Juve as it is fondly called, the way he did.

  I won a third Ballon D’Or but already the ground work for my rivalry with Kanewa had been laid. He came second in the voting and till date some still believe he should have won over me. New blood had been pumped into the game and sides were being taken.

  I took it all in stride but I won’t lie, it bothered me. The media started playing up the rivalry like we were two sides to a coin. I played for Milan, he for Juventus. I was tall for my position; he was short with an incredible center of gravity. I signed with Nike, he signed with Adidas. I had the model good looks; he looked like a school boy, ready to rush home to catch the latest showing of Naruto.

  Whilst I had gotten used to the attention that came with being a major soccer star, he absolutely abhorred it. Not much was known about him, a man of very few words. He spoke through his feet, and when he did, no one could ignore it.

  I had to get better; there was no two ways to it. A challenger had presented himself and he would not rest till he was crowned the best.

  In as less as a blink of an eye, all you have worked hard for can come crashing down around you. I have learned life is so temporal, and so many can go from front page news to being buried in tiny italics in the least read section of the paper.

  Kanewa won the next Ballon D’Or…actually he won the next two to be exact but I will get to that in due time. Like I said, it doesn’t take long for life to come in and usurp you from your comfortable throne. Complacency is an athlete’s greatest foe, that and time ironically. I had underestimated my competition and was paying badly for it. Not that it was entirely my fault, sometimes these things are really out of one’s hand.

  The media that had once adored me and proclaimed me the next best thing in the world of sports was quick to turn on me in favor of the new prodigy. All of a sudden I was the arrogant playboy who spent more time ch
asing starlets than on the field of play.

  The criticisms stung, but the only way I could fight back was winning on the field. Unfortunately for me, that was also proving tough because as many times as we won, Juventus was doing even better. The tides of change had rolled in and it was firmly on their side.

  The media continually talked up their style of play, Kanewa’s rise to greatness and how our team was embroiled in chaos. It felt like the castle I had worked so hard to build was being razed. Vandals had made it into my fort and were hell bent on torching everything. My mind state was troubled, some might even say chaotic. I felt like I was being attacked and the only way to defend myself was to go on the offensive.

  Winning heals all wounds but the same is just as true for the opposite. The more you lose, the more rifts begin to open up in the squad. Phantom arguments pop up, ‘unnamed sources’ start running to the media, tattling about all that’s wrong with the team. Confidence begins to dip and chaos gains a bigger foothold. Not that we were falling to pieces, but merely being second best to Juventus was not good enough especially with the way we had dominated Europe in previous years. The wolves had been let loose, and the scent of blood had them on our trail.

  It is very hard for people who have tasted success at the highest level to relinquish it. This is why so many stars struggle to keep up with reality once they are out of the spotlight; from being on top of your respective line of work, to barely being acknowledged. Fame, wealth and all its by products are addictions. The lifestyle that comes with it draws you in and before long you forget who you are, succumbing to the allure of success.

  Whilst my circumstances were not that dire, I could sense things were changing. The bright lights that used to be solely focused on me were growing dimmer, whilst my Juventus counterpart’ was growing brighter.

  I had tasted success, liked it and thought that it would be that way for a long time. Foolishly I forgot how fleeting these things are. Kanewa had changed all that and now I was finding it difficult to adjust to being second best. Before I knew what was happening, he had won two straight Ballon D’Ors over me including all competitions that our respective teams vied for during that period. It was surreal the way things had changed and so quickly, really all I could do was try to catch up to him.

  By now the media was firmly on his side. Fans had also taken sides. I had my loyal fan base, he had his. Arguments were intense between both sides as to who was the better player, sometimes getting quite ugly. The media and our respective shoe companies pounced on this and turned our rivalry into a global thing. It was me on one side, the former three times Ballon D’Or winner against the new blood from Japan who currently held all significant trophies and awards in the game.

  I was only 26, Kanewa 3 years younger yet they played it up like I was some old athlete trying to find a grip on the ever changing landscape of football. I won’t lie it infuriated me to see how things were going. Mad that people thought I was done.

  In private, I disliked Kanewa but I tried to play it cool whenever we met in public. I suspect he felt the same way about me, as we never said but a few words to each other, despite meeting on numerous occasions.

  My dislike for him wasn’t born out of jealousy; I will be one of the first to tell you he is incredibly talented. It is rare to see someone who possesses such a gift with the ball, even rarer to see someone at that height dominate the ball so easily. Color me impressed, he is definitely someone who has my respect on the field of play. Yet I can’t shake this feeling of annoyance whenever his name is brought up. It was almost like I disliked Kanewa the media creation more than Shinji Kanewa the actual man.

  Demoted to the back seat in a car I had driven for the past few years. I felt like an outcast in the game I loved. But here’s one thing about me that some might not know, I am not a quitter and I hate losing. For some, challenges pop up and cripple their aspirations, for others challenges bolster their resolve and motivate them to do better. If it meant spending more time in the gym, developing my body to get better, then so be it. If it meant sitting my ass in the video room for hours, studying opponents and the greats of the game, then so be it. If it meant distancing myself from the outside world to get better, then so be it. I was sick and tired of being the second best. I had my sights on Kanewa, with the intent of taking back all that had been lost in the past two years.

  I had been in his shadow for too long, watching him dominate the scene, questioning my skills, doubting my abilities. It was time to set things right and take back what was mine.

  Our respective clubs were considered the top two teams in world soccer. Our players dominated football awards and rankings. Our coaches were viewed as the top two in the game. Our rivalry became so intense, media networks and the Italian football association started scheduling our games on days more likely to get the highest viewership…and they did!

  Match days between both sides literally shut the country down and maybe some parts of the world. To miss a Juventus - Milan match was similar to missing a life altering event, or so I was told. In Italy, very few things can replace the passion for sports and we just happened to be on top of the sports pecking order back then.

  I was going into the season angry. I was frustrated with all the attention my rival was garnering. I thought I had been snubbed when I had not won a single individual award the previous year, despite having pretty good individual stats. Granted he led me in pretty much every category, but still the fact that he was not European born made me more likely to win the European player of the year. Sadly, disappointment struck again, as they gave the award to a teammate’s of Kanewa.

  I remember standing on that podium, thinking of grabbing the trophy from said teammate and walking off the stage with what was rightfully mine. Reality dictated otherwise, as I had to stand there and force a fake smile, pretending to be a good sportsman when in fact I wanted to knock out all the people on stage.

  I went home that day realizing the odds had been stacked against me. I am a competitor above all things and I wanted to win. I didn’t play the game to be second best, not when I knew I was capable of being the best. I knew I had an attitude problem that was working against me. It is funny how some think just because you have good looks, fame and all the things that come with it (mostly beautiful women) that you are automatically some arrogant prick.

  I have my flaws no doubt, but being arrogant isn’t one of them. Yes I admit I love women and have been linked with quite a few gorgeous ones, but still it doesn’t give anyone the right to lump me into some category I am not deserving of. I felt that a portion of the media used this against me and whilst they didn’t come out saying this, it was always implied when Kanewa’s simplicity and humility was constantly stressed to counter my supposed Casanova lifestyle.

  I had to change the way I was being viewed. Maybe I was putting too much stock into winning over some new converts but I was so sick of losing out to Kanewa that I had to try all options available. This included toning down my social activities and focusing on more beneficial ones. Charities, getting involved on social media and being more accessible to the fans were all now in play. Operation rejuvenate my image was now in motion.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t paying attention to the match schedules of our respective teams. Especially if Kanewa’s team played before ours, then I’d use it to gauge just how well I had to perform. Some might call it tactless, maybe even selfish but I saw it as motivation. If he scored a goal, then I knew had to score two. If he scored two, then I had to try and put in one better. Granted it wasn’t always this way, but this was how contentious our rivalry had become. I suspect he did the same because when the script was flipped and my team played first, Kanewa’s individual performances always seemed to be a notch better than mine.

  Our very own version of follow the leader was taking us all over the world. From one major competition to another, with each of us trying to will our teams to victory whilst trying to outdo the other. The fans will test
ify to how competitive things got and nary will you find one who didn’t appreciate it. We had turned up the heat on the soccer world and there was nothing that would stop us. I had come into that season prepared to fight all the way to the end. I don’t think I had ever exerted myself as much as I had on the field of play. If there were any levels I had previously not reached ability wise, this was the season I did so. Despite all this, I was either on par with Kanewa or slightly a step behind. Whatever I did, he was right there doing similar. Some games I had the upper hand, in others he did. Our one and only encounter that year was such a big deal, the media had been talking about it two months in advance. These things were typically the talk of the town, but certainly not like this. Because we were neck and neck in the title race, neither team could afford to stumble. I knew if I had any chance of proving to the sports world that I was deserving of the Ballon D’Or, that matchup would be a good start. Come game day, I was all nerves. The pressure of the ordeal at hand was weighing down heavily on my mind. The butterflies were not only present; they were causing a ruckus in my stomach. With that said, I am a professional athlete. No matter how nervous one gets, as soon as I step out on to the field, my body returns to normalcy.

  The first half of the game lacked any type of excitement. Both teams were cautious, feeling each other out, not trying to make any moves the other might capitalize on. It was a boring affair and the fans were getting antsy.

  What had been billed as the match of the year had been such a bore fest. If the same repeated itself in the second half, there would be a lot of pissed off people in the stands. Luckily for them, both sides upped the ante and all were treated to a game that will go down in Italian soccer lore as one of the best matches of all time. Kanewa broke the deadlock 5 minutes into the second half and appropriately broke the floodgates for the goals to follow.

  Ten minutes later, I was the recipient of a gorgeous header from my teammate that sailed deftly into the top corner of the goal. If you have never scored a goal with 50 or so thousand people cheering or jeering you on, then it might be tough for you to relate to the type of elation that swells in you on delivering for your team. All I remember from TV replays was running wildly to the corner and diving as if in a swimming pool. Seven minutes after that goal, I had latched on to an errant pass from the opposition