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I was a mere 6 and half years old when my tryst with the game of football began. Born in a country like India which adores cricket, obviously cricket was my first love. I was quite intrigued by some of my cousins who used to stay awake late in the night for some kind of a sport that I had no particular liking for. Like any other kid, I was curious to know what kind of sport interests these people more than Cricket. I tried my best to understand what the game was all about, but it didn’t work out. I would sneak from under my blanket to have a look at what was happening on the television but nothing interesting happened most of the times.
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On one such night, pretending to be asleep, I had my brief moment of glory when I had a peep at the television for a considerable amount of five minutes. Today I believe that those five minutes were the most important reason for my love affair with football. A kid, surely still in his teens, received the ball near the half way line. From then on, time seemed to have halved its speed. His touch was perfect, a nonchalant flick setting him off. Moving past the first defender with strength belittling his frail frame, he swiveled past the second with phantom-like finesse in the blink of an eye, before firing the ball into the right top corner with a little dink. As he turned away to celebrate, I had a glance at the name on his jersey. It read OWEN!
Michael Owen is the reason I love football and more particularly Liverpool. As a kid you don’t look at people who prevent people from scoring goals. You look at people who score them. And I was awestruck by Owen. Every sports channel I tuned into was talking about him and his goals. Everybody who played football in a country so mad after cricket knew that there existed a young kid named Michael Owen who scored goals for fun.
I saw him very often in a red jersey. The jersey had changed from the last time I saw him on television but his goal scoring abilities were still intact. Soon the obsession began to grow. Living in a hostel, I was unable to watch many of his goals but I was keen to know more of him and his club’s activities. He appeared very often in the newspapers. Having a scrap book was a trend and my first football scrap book was filled with him. With my liking for the goal machine growing, my love for Liverpool FC also grew. I looked for their results across newspapers every day and though not fully initiated into the game and its following, I had surely taken my first steps.
For some reason, I began to play more and more football. Every time I stepped on the field I wanted to be him terrorizing the opponents and scoring goals for fun. I didn’t know then that a million other kids across the globe wanted to be him too. From Wayne Rooney to me, we had the same ambition, becoming as good as Owen. Owen was my role model and I wanted to be as fast as him with the football at my feet. I wanted to score goals in every way possible and win as many games for the team I played.
When the Euro 2004 took place, I was overcome by the football fever. This time around, some boys not much older than me were taking the world by a storm. Cristiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney had stepped into the limelight. I hated them simply because they were taking away the limelight from my favourite. Not very familiar with the transfer markets, I didn’t know that he was on the verge of moving to another club. Before I realized what was happening he had bid good bye to Liverpool and had signed for Real Madrid. I felt cheated. I was unhappy but I still followed him and wished that he won everything at his new club.
In the meantime, Liverpool FC won the UEFA Champions League in one of the most dramatic final of all times. It was like a dream come true. We were the champions of Europe and celebrations were in the air. My only regret was that I did not have the pleasure of seeing Owen lift that trophy. I guess that was the time when new heroes were found. Steven Gerrard, Jamie Carragher, Sami Hyypia were the new heroes. Liverpool FC now enjoyed as much attention as the Indian cricket team.
Owen was back in England soon with Newcastle United. Despite being injured so often, he was still scoring some amazing goals. The pattern of following the football scores changed. It went thus- What is Liverpool’s score? Who scored for Liverpool? Did Owen score last night?
Like most other Liverpool fans, I was livid at him for leaving the club. And this reached its heights when he signed for Manchester United in 2009. This seemed like the end that never materialized. I was still looking for his name in the score sheets. My only wish was that he shouldn’t score against us… That would have been a stab in our chests. I think I was not the only one who wished that and true to our prayers, the goal never materialized. After having spent two seasons with Manchester United and one season with Stoke City, he has finally decided to hang up his boots.
The legend will live on though. You don’t simply score 222 goals in 482 matches unless you are Michael Owen. He has won almost everything there is to win in football, both at the team and personal level, from FA Cups to Premier League titles, from the Golden Boot to the Ballon d’Or.
Yet, it is not titles alone that make a footballer or his fans. Every relationship needs a catalyst and I believe that Owen was the most important catalyst in my love for football and Liverpool FC. If Michael Owen had not produced those five minutes of his magic on that fateful night of June 30, 1998, I would have never loved the game as much as I do.
As Owen retires, it reminds me of how time has elapsed without much notice. The memories are still in fresh in my mind. After all, some memories never fade away. A strange feeling engulfs me as I try to digest the fact that I will no longer be looking for his name on the score sheet. To say good bye to this wonderful player is one of the many sad events on the season finale. The legend will live on… Goodbye Michael Owen.
