riquelme is that most romantic of things to a fan; the footballer that does not look like a footballer. his eyes are deep set under the overhang of his furrowed brow, they don’t possess the academic focus of a highly trained dutch academy alumni. his application to the game comes from a different place. he strolls, he languidly dishes out nutmegs like he was dealing cards to hapless competitors in a poker game. if you love football, he dwells in your heart. he is a footballing patchwork of human and heavenly touches. this both elevates and grounds him at the same time, allowing us to gape at the mystifying expanse in between. the very nature of that contrast endears him to us and captures our imaginations with one beguiling swoop.

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