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We all remember that sunny August afternoon in 2013. Yes, it was only a friendly against Espanyol, but we needed Soldado to score to get off on the right foot, as it were. And score he did with a nerveless, dismissive slot into the corner. Pressure? What pressure? It was the moment we all knew we’d finally found our poacher, 26 million quid well spent.
Fast forward a couple of months and he was still notching penalties with aplomb, but goals from open play? Not so much. Actually, not at all. Ok, we all thought, it’ll come. He had yet to adapt to the unique demands of the Premier League. And then came that cathartic goal at Villa Park. Robbie had the confidence, the sheer gall to give the ‘keeper ‘the eyes’ before plopping it past him like shelling peas. At last, the guy we’d all seen on YouTube thrashing in over-the-shoulder volleys, slipping cheeky wrong-footers past hapless Spanish goalies, diverting sly headers into the bottom corner. He announced his arrival with that one. Stand back and enjoy the avalanche.
But it all fizzled out, as if it ever fizzled in. Never mind, he’d got that difficult, transitional first season under his belt and it was all systems go for 2014/15. Except, of course, he was still in neutral. Fast forward again to the Etihad in October. We were getting a battering but hanging in. And then…penalty! For 2-2! Vital. Ok, so he can’t score in open play, but he’s the penalty king! Isn’t he?
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Suffice it to say, we thought that miss was the nadir, but oh no. He had further to fall, much further. Florence, 26 February, and that amazing mind/body freeze. This was a man so bereft of confidence, he could barely remember which way he was kicking.
Yet it’s rare for the faithful to get on Robbie’s back like we do Ade’s. He tries, for a start. And he’s manifestly skilful. His hold-up play, his flicks, his subtle movement, remain a joy even if we’ve stopped believing it will ever translate into goals. And Robbie has something else, a dignity, a noble mien that makes him impossible to hate. We’ve grown used to that look of exasperation when he misses another two-yarder, that sweep of the hand over his stiff, coiffed hair, hands together in supplication. Where has it all gone? he wants to know. Don’t we all? And yet we feel for him.
Robbie might still be ballooning sitters over the bar were it not for the emergence of one Harry Kane. It’s probably something of a relief to him as well as us that he doesn’t have to be on the front line any more. Given Ade’s unreliability and stunning lack of commitment – and the fact that Kane didn’t look all that when we first saw him (what did any of us know?) - I was beginning to wonder whether we should give Shaq Coulthirst (who?) a run-out, despite, according to many sources, being a bit Obika-lite. Yes, things were that bad, but would he have been any more profligate?
All of which leaves us with a problem. Frankly, I was surprised at the club throwing that much money at a 28 year old with a good – but not world beating – pedigree. What if he didn’t work out? What kind of sell-on value would he have at 30? I suspect we’re about to find out, and I doubt whether the fee will pay for more than a couple of seats in the new stadium.
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