Petulant streak prevents Neymar being a class act
NEYMAR has become a walking contradiction. A God-fearing Christian who wants to fight the world. Off the pitch, the world’s most expensive footballer is capable of heart-warming deeds.
He donates ten per cent of his vast salary to the church. And hours after Paris Saint-Germain’s dissection of Celtic in the Champions League he donated his match shirt to the Marina Dalglish breast cancer appeal.
All of which makes the other Neymar a puzzling character.
For a supremely-gifted player, he’s a hard man to like. Unerring brilliance is routinely soiled by acts of childish petulance. No one disputes the provocations he endures. When lesser players can’t stop him by fair means they resort to crude tactics for one reason. A reaction is almost guaranteed.
Take Anthony Ralston. The 18-year-old Celtic right-back has the potential to be a Champions League regular.
But he only played against PSG on Tuesday because Scotland’s champions failed to land a centre-half in the August window.
Pitched in for his fifth first-team start against one of the top three footballers on the planet, the Scotland Under-21 defender did his best to loosen up a screw or two. And not always by legal means.
Yet for 75 minutes Glasgow witnessed Good Neymar. The scorer of the first goal; the peerless creator of the second, the young pretender to the Ballon d’Or.
Toying with Celtic like a cat pawing string, Bad Neymar was an unexpected interloper.
Search YouTube and a video collage exists of ‘Neymar’s best
dives’. Before Tuesday night’s game it was an impressive seven minutes and 40 seconds long. With PSG cruising to an easy win he added another whopper to the collection.
After he was booked by the Italian referee, many didn’t care much for Ralston laughing in our slain hero’s face. A kid five minutes in the door, it’s said, should have ‘shown respect.’
But respect tends to be earned rather than bestowed. And it’s a tricky thing to feign when a con man is trying to cheat his fellow pros and the officials. The subsequent row over the PSG superstar refusing to shake his young opponent’s hand at full-time was over-cooked. No big deal. But it did serve as a reminder of Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior’s Achilles heel. Petulance.
Six years ago, he accused Scotland fans of racism after a banana was thrown on the pitch during a friendly international in London. When a German tourist owned up to throwing it, he declined to apologise.
He lost the plot after Brazil’s first defeat to Colombia in 24 years, booting the ball at Pablo Armero and triggering a mass brawl.
In April, a one-game ban for a red card against Malaga was increased to three by the Spanish FA when he sarcastically applauded the officials as he headed for an early bath.
Banned for a Clasico against Real Madrid, Lionel Messi scored a late winner while Neymar sulked in the stand.
With 79 caps and 52 goals for Brazil, Neymar is one of the most marketable, famous, wealthy athletes on the planet. In a mismatch with an 18-year-old playing his first Champions League game, it’s not unreasonable to think he should be the bigger man.
Messi’s heir and spare at Barcelona, he’s no longer the prince-in-waiting.
PSG paid £198million to crown him the new Louis XV. A beloved king and the focal point of a gifted football team with every chance of winning this season’s Champions League. From the old warhorse Thiago Motta to the effortless grace of midfielder Adrien Rabiot, the French side outclassed Celtic. By fair means or foul, Europe’s greatest prize is now within their grasp.
All of which raises a slightly puzzling question. With all this talent around, why
does Neymar still feel the need to throw himself to the ground like a toddler throwing a wobbler in the Tesco toy aisle?
On one hand he’s a wonderful, mesmeric force of footballing nature with religious convictions. On the other, a petulant, immature con merchant.
Everything that’s right with the modern game. And everything which is a complete and utter turn-off.
Whether he earns his millions in Barcelona or Paris, Neymar can’t shake off a harsh, irrefutable fact of life.
He’s no Lionel Messi.