Now to get Super Mario to next level
As Rio Ferdinand, Roberto Mancini, Anderson, David Platt and Edwin van der Sar formed a shouting, snarling scrum around Balotelli, City’s Italian centre-forward wore an expression of quiet serenity.
Balotelli’s lack of aggression amidst an angry dispute in which he was the central figure was striking. It was as though he was watching it happen to somebody else.
Incongruous emotional responses are something of a Balotelli trademark. In December he scored a hat-trick against Villa and did not celebrate any of the goals. “I would like to punch him sometimes,” said Roberto Mancini, “when you score a hat-trick in the Premier League you have to celebrate.”
Last month he was sent off for studding Dynamo Kiev’s left-back Popov in the chest, but he might have escaped with a yellow card had he reacted by showing any concern for his opponent instead of just wandering off as though nothing had happened. A few days after that, he apparently failed to understand why people might have a problem with him throwing darts at a City youth team player. Couldn’t they see it was just a joke?
At times you wonder if that blunted affect might have something to do with his failure thus far to become indispensable to any of the teams he’s played for. He is obviously very gifted, but talent is no use when even your team-mates have no idea what’s going on in your head.
Balotelli is frequently tackled in possession, plays the ball behind a partner’s run or shoots from a ridiculous position, all of which can make him so infuriating to watch. He seems to have been around so long and is such a powerful athlete it’s easy to forget he’s still only 20.
The 20-year old Cristiano Ronaldo was also an arch-individualist who struggled to read his team-mates. Maybe over the next year or two Roberto Mancini can turn him into a team player. For now, though, he is probably best suited to the lone striker role. The match told us that he is already more effective in that position than Dimitar Berbatov, whose first-half misses arguably cost United the game.
Berbatov, an intelligent combination player who even managed to form a telepathic partnership with the famously unreadable Robbie Keane, is the opposite of the soloist crank Balotelli. But a lone centre-forward has to be able to run. Balotelli is one of the quickest in the league; Berbatov plays at snails pace.
They are also emotional opposites. While Balotelli greets triumph, disaster, and everything in between with the same flat, impassive stare, Berbatov is sensitive and empathic; his emotional turmoil is written all over his face.
Left out of the Champions League match against Marseille, he sat on the bench with an expression of such tragic desolation that Alex Ferguson and Mike Phelan were reduced to helpless titters. He has never gone in for the stylised or posturing goal celebrations preferred by most frequent goalscorers.
Few players look happier (or more relieved) to score, and nobody looks more anguished to miss.
Given Berbatov’s vulnerable, self-doubting nature, the last few weeks must have been hell. He’s had his best season since joining United, yet still finds himself on the bench as the campaign approaches its climax.
His confidence must be broken after being left out of so many important matches, so why didn’t Alex Ferguson use Javier Hernandez alongside him from the beginning? That would have taken some of the pressure off Berbatov as well as given him a runner to aim his passes at; instead he was squashed by Vincent Kompany. He was eventually replaced by Anderson in a substitution forced by Paul Scholes, whose characteristic foul was uncharacteristically punished with a red rather than a yellow card. Scholes’ mistake was that his intention to nail Pablo Zabaleta was too telegraphed, giving the referee a half-second to anticipate the collision. Indiscipline had already cost United the services of Rooney in this game and now it finally snuffed out their chances of a comeback.
If City go on to win the Cup next month, they will never forget Paul Scholes’ part in their triumph.
