Dank je: Dirk Kuyt

So farewell then, Dirk Kuyt.

Recent discussion on the future of Dirk had centred on the conflict between the heart and the head. The cerebral argument said he is too old, that he does not fit in with FSG’s oft-misquoted youth policy, that Liverpool should capitalise while he still justifies a transfer value, that his sporadic appearances last season demonstrate his abilities are devolving, that there are younger players (Sterling) who should have the opportunity to make the impact from the bench. Those with a predilection toward the sentimental pointed out that such a determined character will always have a part to play regardless of form, that a longer run in the side would revive his magic, that his experience is invaluable, that he is a big game player who scores vital goals.. It’s a conflict as old as newspaper shinpads. Not that Dirk probably wears any.

Such a paradox has often been used to summarise Dirk's ability. He is typically characterised as a player who’s machine like exertion compensates for a lack of dexterity and subtlety of touch. Indeed for someone who has spent much of his Liverpool career in a wide position, his lack of acceleration has doubtless contributed to his lack of video montage moments. But you get the impression that he not so much suffers from a lack of pace, rather a lack of space. The Anfield pitch is simply not large enough for his legs to reach full speed. It’s conceivable that if he was allowed to run down the platform at Lime Street, he would arrive at Euston in 2 hours and 14 minutes.

Let us be misty eyed then for a few paragraphs. There was a genuine sense of anticipation when he was signed by Rafa in 2006. Those unfamiliar with the Dutch league were nevertheless impressed with his goalscoring record. 71 goals in 101 appearances for Feyenoord. His cameo debut against West Ham was sensational, in fact it’s distinctly possible that the etymology of the word barnstorming can be traced back to this day. I have a memory of Dirk charging the points of a demented triangle between Konchesky (shudder), Mullins and Bowyer. The phrase ‘cult-hero in the making’ was etched on many a press-room notepad.

The hat trick against Manchester United last year was football opera. Dirk’s primal scream in front of the Kop in celebration can still be heard on a calm day. That match encapsulated all that us admirers love about the Dutchman. And those who sniff at the trio of tap-ins that day do not understand football. 3 goals of poached wonder stands up to any ‘perfect’ hat trick. To spank 3 goals in from range requires an element of hit and hope providence. To poke home 3 times into an unguarded net necessitates instinct and intelligence. Who needs Gareth Bale or Luis Suarez (Ok, maybe Liverpool do).

There is more to Dirk’s game than the cliché insists. When the ball is played to his feet around the penalty area, few players have better vision and movement for the one-two. With Luis Suarez around, this has lethal potential which suggested a future may have remained. We have seen it many times when the two have been allowed to link up. Kuyt’s ubiquity in Benitez team selections was largely due to the trust in his defensive awareness and willingness to cover. This skill is not just borne of Kuyt’s aggression, it is borne of innate tactical awareness and positional sense. Intelligence in a footballer is a premium. Heart over head? The myth does Dirk a criminal misservice.

Yet few players with such longevity on their Liverpool CV have caused so many howls of frustration. Bad passes in crucial positions, wasteful finishing. Not many players manage to provoke so much the fickle matchday twitter generation. These days, most players are legendary after a good game, scapegoats after a bad one. Dirk Kuyt has been called both during the course of a single passing move.

Kuyt’s engaging public appearances, whether in front of Sky microphones or his brilliant charity work for children with disabilities, deservedly enhance his status.  He even made an interesting football pundit. Once, before a Europa League match with Napoli, he told a rather surreal story about a police horse that had sat on his car. Jim Rosenthal asked what the dutch for ‘No’ was. “Neigh”, replied Dirk, with impeccable comic timing. Lame and contrived, yes. But loveable also.

The final decision ultimately rested with Dirk. Recent public indications hinted at his frustration with limited appearances last season. From the club’s point of view, it seemed to make no sense to sell him. Wages aside, his retail value at this stage(just a couple of million it is rumoured at the time of writing) would not seem to cover the loss of his potential contributions, even as an bit-part player from the bench. But there is the much discussed new system to think of and Rodgers has already admitted knowing which areas of the playing squad need improvement. Barring his own contribution in the Carling Cup final, Dirk would have left Liverpool without a single winners medal. No player in Liverpool history has worked so hard for so little reward in silver. It’s time to wish him well with enormous gratitude. It’s time to let the heart rule the head. Dirk deserves it.