The Comic Marvel of Hero Worship

I am melancholy. I’m sure this declaration has made many hands clutch many chests. Perhaps beads of cold sweat have started to form on the brows of concerned readers. What has caused Tariq, that stoic beacon of stateliness, to feel sadness? Well, such emotions bridge the gap between Tariq the myth/legend/sexual champion and Tariq the man. But I digress. You can exhale, dear reader; there is no real reason for you to be afraid.

I am merely sad because Ronaldinho is no longer the player he once was. This is especially curious considering he’s only 27. Yet it seems that those glory years of 2005 and 2006 are so far away. Even if you didn’t enjoy futbol, when you watched Ronnie in those days you couldn’t help but marvel at a human being who plays a sport like a ninja. His movement was so elastic. The way he manipulated the ball, the way he passed with his back (!), the way he made up new tricks and flicks as he glided past defenders. It was just joyful. I was transfixed.

And yet, despite the fact that I loved watching him, and still harbor hopes of him returning to his former glory, I have never owned a Ronaldinho jersey. I feel uneasy putting the man’s name on my back. I can’t explain it, exactly.

Maybe it’s because I don’t really know him. I don’t look to Ronaldinho for moral or spiritual guidance. I don’t expect him to love me or teach me anything. I don’t love him. Never have. I only loved the way he played. And for a period of time, the Ronaldinhos of the world will have me rooting for them. I will stand up when I see Kevin Garnett pump his fist. I may scream ecstatically when Samuel Eto’o bamboozles a goalkeeper. I remember raising my arms in silent triumph when Allen Iverson beat the mighty Lakers back in 2001, even though I knew he could only win that one game, that he would  inevitably fall short of ultimate glory. But in the end, when the game is over, I’ll simply turn off the TV and do something else, knowing that all these heroes would never spare me a thought, even if they knew my name.