Torres keeps another clean sheet

Liam Mackey

I MIGHT know as much about economics as the next man, woman, child or economist, but even I can tell that the FT Index is looking grim.
That would be the table which tells us that Fernando Torres has yet to open his account for Chelsea and has now gone twelve games without a goal for club or country.
Commentating on RTE at the Champions League game against Manchester United, George Hamilton seemed to be trying to put a charitable gloss on the ugly figures, noting of the home side’s far from telepathic front two: “Eleven goals between them and all of them scored by Drogba”.
That was a classic reminiscent of the wag in the press box who, when John Aldridge’s long early goal drought for Ireland was extended by yet another game, was hard to remark: “I see Aldo’s kept another clean sheet”.
But, whichever way you spin it, the woes of Fernando Torres are making for one of the most painfully depressing sub-plots of the season.
When the Spaniard moved from Anfield to Stamford Bridge, the eye-brows raised were prompted mainly by the eye-watering price tag. For the majority, myself included, it seemed like a no-brainer: liberated from a club struggling to keep its credibility intact, there seemed nothing to suggest that one of the best strikers in the world wouldn’t be instantly reborn at a club with silverware in its sights.
There were niggling worries about fitness and form, sure, but no-one needed convincing that Torres was a class act.
And now – well, he certainly isn’t looking like one. Against Manchester United on Wednesday, all the qualities which had marked him out as one of the world’s best were conspicuous only by their absence: touch, pace, lightning reflexes and the magic to conjure a goal out of nothing.  A striker, more than any other player on the pitch, is vulnerable to crushing self-doubt, and Torres is currently experiencing the mother and father of a crisis of confidence. And wouldn’t you just know it: in the one moment when it all seemed about to come right, Edwin van der Sar denied him a chance at potentially transformative redemption with a brilliant save.
Where before the flaring striker was frequently described as a thoroughbred, he now looks like one which is carrying an oppressive handicap; not just those 50 million pounds weighing heavily on his shoulders but also, perhaps, the gnawing realisation that his arrival at the Bridge was a solo run by an owner which lacked the popular support of either the manager or the players.
Of course, none of the above would be complaining if Torres had hit the ground running but, instead, by the end of another frustrating 90 minutes on Wednesday night, he was reduced to just hitting the ground, his desperate attempt to win a penalty earning only the contempt of the United defence and a yellow card for diving.
I somehow doubt that Fernando Torres shares the common passion for golf in English football but you wouldn’t be surprised to find him cocking an eye at old Woodsy out in Augusta over the next couple of days, just to see if it’s true what they say about form being temporary but class being for keeps.

 

 

Source: http://feeds.examiner.ie/~r/iesportsblog/~3/pb9yVRWdHQ4/post.aspx

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