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.