Chapter 17: The Speedy Striker

As a renowned figure once said, "Every great player should have a heart for charging forward." We may attribute this quote to someone like George Orwell or Ernest Hemingway.

Not everyone, but at least eighty percent of players have dreamed of being a striker at some point. Who wouldn't want to be the one leading the charge, battering down defenses, and reveling in the roar of the crowd? Far less appealing is the prospect of toiling in support roles, serving as an understudy or even a waterboy for others.

Of course, this excludes those content to simply cheer from the sidelines, offering little more than perfunctory praise for the stars.

Kaka certainly wasn't one of those. Though primarily a midfielder in his youth, he had occasionally played up front, so the striker position wasn't entirely unfamiliar to him.

"Luís Fabiano has not moved up to the front line; instead, it is Kaka taking that role, replacing another player. It seems the coach aims to fully exploit Kaka's pace in attacking the opposition's defense. Only time will tell if this is a brilliant or foolish move."

Most observers viewed this tactical adjustment favorably. Kaka's technical strengths differed from the typical attacking midfielder's. His close control and distribution weren't particularly outstanding; his true strength lay in his blistering pace on the dribble. One might even argue he was more of a striker than a midfielder. It wouldn't be until the days of players like Steven Gerrard, Frank Lampard, and Gareth Bale that the concept of the all-round box-to-box midfielder would truly take shape.

At this time, strikers weren't expected to possess the well-rounded skillset later required - the ability to pass, dribble, shoot, hold up play, and drop deep to link midfield and attack. Sheer pace alone could suffice, making speedy players prime candidates for the striker role.

Events would prove the coach's decision a masterstroke, despite his relative anonymity in world football circles.

In the 74th minute, with the opposition attacking, their forwards managed to bundle the ball into the penalty area after some intricate interplay. They carved out a gilt-edged chance, but the keeper, reacting with lightning reflexes, pulled off a world-class save to keep the score level in what seemed an impossible situation.

The defenders cleared their lines, and Luís Fabiano, receiving the ball in his own half, launched a speculative high ball towards the halfway line without a second thought.

Kaka raced onto the pass from deep, with an opposition defender giving chase to prevent him controlling and turning. The defender gestured for his teammates to pick up the other runners.

Rather than taking a touch, Kaka flicked the ball on with the slightest of contacts, arcing it over his own head and that of the defender towards the opposition's goal before spinning to chase his own deft touch.

A simple flick and spin to beat his marker, though the execution lacked a little finesse - perhaps a consequence of Kaka's somewhat raw technique at this stage. The defender wasn't immediately beaten, but the lofted ball bought Kaka enough space to engage his searing acceleration, leaving his man for dead after a couple of blistering bursts of pace.

With the opposition's back line holding a deep line, three defenders remained between Kaka and the goalkeeper, plus the striker holding the highest position. A two-versus-three scenario that favored the opposition on paper, yet their fans still felt a twinge of apprehension.

Despite Kaka's previous failures to convert openings and his seemingly unrefined, clumsy dribbling style, there was an unmistakable aura about his carrying of the ball - an inexplicable quality that simply exuded confidence.

As he reached the ball, the volume in the stadium seemed to crank up a notch, a cacophony of shouts and debate breaking out.

"Pass it! Pass!"

"What passing? Go on Kaka, take it all the way!"

"There he goes again, hugging that ball like it's a turd he can't let go of."

"Rather him dribble than pass to that wildly shooting striker, to be fair."

"I swear my grandma dribbles better than that."

"I swear he's quicker with the ball than Ronaldo was."

"I swear Roney would've blown him away for pace on the ball."

As many fans noted, few at this stage regarded Kaka as an aesthetically pleasing dribbler. When he ran with the ball, impressions centered on his pace rather than technique.

In truth, his outright top speed wasn't quite at the level to leave every defender trailing. But in terms of explosive acceleration and dribbling speed over the first 10-15 yards, he was arguably among the most devastating of all time.

Absolute 100m times mean little in football; what matters is the ability to combine explosive power with close control from a standing start. An area in which Kaka simply excelled.

The opposition had committed players forward, leaving just three defenders back against Kaka, the striker, and another runner. Two immediately charged out towards the dribbler without hesitation.

Kaka didn't pass, instead driving directly at them.

As that renowned thinker suggested, "For the speed merchant, the counter is their time to reign."

At this stage, Kaka was that quintessential pace threat - and with his ball mastery and control still developing, raw tempo would remain his primary weapon.

No feints, no deceleration. Just a direct, streamlined dribble as Kaka burned between the two closing defenders before rounding the keeper and slotting home at the tight angle.

From collecting the ball to breaching the defense and scoring - a mere 10-15 second burst.

Perhaps for the first time, many of the female fans appreciated that sometimes, a rapid finisher can epitomize masculinity too.

The opposition players wore looks of resigned dismay. They had afforded Kaka due respect, detailing a man-marker while leaving adequate cover behind to guard against the counterattack. Yet the Brazilian had cut through them like a hot knife through butter regardless.

To dribble through multiple defenders and score - one of football's most audacious and celebrated feats of individual skill.

A cocksure grin creasing his features, Kaka raised both arms skyward as he celebrated in front of the visiting fans, the broadcast camera obliging with a poster-esque close-up of his top half.

Not a face of divine, heart-stopping beauty per se. But an inexplicable, sunny charisma that warmed the soul and effortlessly endeared him to any viewer.

In that moment, countless fans were enraptured - new lifetime devotees, their allegiance forever sealed.

"GOAL! Kaka again, the savior! Not a fortunate rebound or tap-in, but an unstoppable solo raid. We saw him point both hands to the sky - a devout celebration, perhaps giving thanks to his faith."

Though not for any religious reasons. Kaka had no faith in a deity.

He was thanking the system.

(end of chapter)