Ending a relationship can be very painful. The spark that first united tends to either fizzle out or explode. When something that was seen as a promising partnership dissolves into nothing, while unpleasant can be very easily rationalised. It's the ones that were taken close to heart that leave the biggest emotional damage. With whom we placed out trust and believed - with no real foundation - that they would never hurt us. Two such cases spring immediately to mind. Similar in name, nationality and position. Everything else about them - and their time at Liverpool - is at opposite ends of the spectrum. They are Fernando Morientes and Fernando Torres.
Heroes on different sides of the same city, Torres and Morientes both rose to prominence in Madrid. Whereas the one they called El Niño was a fully fledged product of the Atletico youth academy and the one to whom everybody looked toward, Morientes was a fairly modest acquisition - 6.6 million euros in the summer of 97 - from Real Zaragoza bought with the intention of being nothing more than a back up striker. Despite occupying the same space on the field, their on field play is far removed from each other. Torres' best form has been as a result of a team suited to play through him - unlike Morientes who was always cast in a supporting role.
They arrived at Anfield under different circumstances and at separate stages of their careers. One arrived as a star of world football - albeit a faded one - with all the medals to prove it. The other was an incredible prospect but also an expensive gamble, a risk many teams had decided against taking. In addition to everything else, their fortunes at Liverpool contrasted dramatically. Torres dazzled while Morientes couldn't quite match the heights he'd reached previously. In the end, both of them have reasons to be unhappy with the way things ended up. While neither of them became heroes, one of them became a villain.
If it's possible to comprehend, twelve years ago Real Madrid were even more untouchable than they are now. The Galácticos - even as a concept - were a world away from the chaos of Roy Evans and the functionality of Gérard Houllier that followed it. Steve McManaman's transfer over there was one of bemusement rather than contempt - after all - nobody could turn down the chance to play in that team. Despite assembling a team made up from the best players around the world - and Macca - there still remained a Spanish focal point within the team; Raúl and Morientes. While the former was far and away the heart and soul of Real Madrid, Morientes played his part in what was one of the best tandem strike partnerships of the last twenty years.
The fans loved him but he was no Galáctico. Players came in to replace him on a yearly basis. Still he remained loyal to the team even though never being at the forefront of either the manager or the directors plans and in the process added to his incredible medal collection, ending his stay at the Bernabéu with a total of three European Cups and two La Liga Titles among others. After being sent away to France he would eventually get one over on those that had looked him over by knocking them out of the Champions League in 2004 while on loan at Monaco. After returning to Madrid, there was another striker to be found that had been bought in his absence; Michael Owen. Little did he know that it would not be long before he was to go the other way.
With six months of the season still to go and an ever worsening striker crisis, getting somebody in of the quality of Morientes was a coup. Slightly past his peak, that didn't change the fact that his game was seemingly perfectly suited to the Premier League with his strength and heading ability as well as a magnitude of experience having played at the highest level in Spain for so long. His first goal arrived almost a month later, grabbing the equaliser goal in a comeback victory over Charlton. Though it took a while in coming, it had all the hallmarks of a striker who had been among the very elite. Taking the ball outside the box, skillfully dragging it past the defender and then smashing it beyond the keeper from the edge of the box. The hope was that it would be the first of many. It wasn't.Four months after the arrival of Morientes came Champions League glory in Istanbul. Had he not been cup tied and subsequently been anything other than a spectator that night, his place in Anfield folklore would be assured. He would have his part to play in the FA Cup success a year later but would be overshadowed - as with everybody else - by one Steven Gerrard. That summer saw a return to Spain for the original Nando, to Valencia where he would forge another partnership with one of their young prodigal talents, this time it was David Villa in place of Raúl. The overall feeling of Morientes' fifteen months at Anfield was one of disappointment. He seemed to have everything that was needed to succeed over here and the sheer mystification over why he did not faded him into obscurity inside many Liverpool fans minds. There was no ill will there whatsoever, sometimes you have to just accept when things aren't meant to be and move on. Having said that - even when it does seem like it's meant to be - things don't always work out.
Twelve months after one Spanish striker left Merseyside, another came in. This was a younger, flashier model than the Fernando that Liverpool had sold on to Valencia. Fresh faced, rosy cheeked and eager to incorporate his ever growing talent to the Rafa Revolution, Torres was every bit the marquee signing that had fans drooling with anticipation. He was not a member of Real Madrid's exclusive club but a boy who at times alone carried the weight of ambition from his hometown club, much like Steven Gerrard. Torres and Liverpool was like a whirlwind romance and Anfield fell in love with him faster than he could get around Tal Ben Haim. He would very quickly go on to be regarded as among the best strikers in world football. There appeared to be no limit to the heights he could take the club. The fall would be just as great.
A partnership formed as records tumbled and debt mounted. On the back of yet another successful tournament for Torres and Spain, Liverpool would embark on a campaign that would see them as agonisingly close to the title as ever before. Missing out by just four points having lost only two games, it was an opportunity lost. With things at boardroom level now worse than ever, it was only a matter of time before things went sour on the pitch. Seventh place the following season would see Rafael Benítez depart as manager of Liverpool and in his place was a man incredibly out of his depth. Injuries - by now - had taken their tole on Torres, with every international break that passed being the cue for another problem with the star striker. Broken down and incredibly isolated by the inept tactics of Hodgson, salvation came in the form of Kenny Dalglish and a change in ownership. No longer would the club have to sell in order to buy. Three goals in three games under Dalglish and with the prospect of playing with Luis Suarez looming on the horizon things were looking up for Liverpool and Torres. Then he did the unthinkable.
Many people see Manchester United as the antyhsis of everything Liverpool stand for. At least we both have tradition in common. In the modern era, Liverpool and Chelsea are a much better fit as nemesis to one another. What began with Abramovic taking over was only accelerated by the personalities of Mourinho and Benítez. The continual - seemingly annual - engagements in the Champions League only harboured that ill feeling long after the self proclaimed "Special One" had left Stamford Bridge. In dealing with Hicks & Gillette that rivalry was forced to take a back burner as we got our own house in order. Once that arduous process was completed there was one final insult left to add. Torres had turned blue.
The fact that it was Chelsea rankled, but it hurt more to know that Torres was just another in a long line of those players who say one thing and do another. His goals made us cheer but it was the boy himself to whom Liverpool took to heart. His quotes about the city and Liverpool fans, were in the end nothing more than a well executed PR exercise. It hurts because of the fact that there was this perception that Torres was more than just a modern footballer. That he would go to Chelsea and embrace that club in much the same manner as he did Liverpool - despite the way they will have reacted to him during his time as a red - feels hollow and empty. That his goals dried up or whether he comes back to form is inconsequential. Torres chose to walk alone.
There are a plethora of reasons why transfers don't work out in football. In many cases it's simply a case of the player in question not being good enough - either physically or mentally - to do the job. Part of the reason why we love the beautiful game is because it's one with an infinite number of possibilities and they sometimes involve the unexpected. Even when things do go according to plan the world of football is such that circumstances - even people - can change overnight. Should we then not try? Not open ourselves up to sharing their professional moments and our personal moments of joy for fear of eventually being hurt, or that they will fail us? Life is all about taking chances, whether it's five yards out with an open goal or opening our hearts to someone. With some it's love at first sight. Others take a while to get used to. A few don't work out at all. Plenty more fish in the sea.
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