Damned if you enjoy a goal, and damned if you don’t
It is one of football’s most-famous farewells, and all the better for being a true story – just about.
The Manchester derby, Old Trafford, 1974.
The game is locked at 0-0 with eight minutes to go when Denis Law, a former United hero but now clad in a traitors’ cloak of City’s sky blue, scores with a back heel to help relegate the Red Devils.
Inconsolable, the Scot trudges straight off the pitch, head down, never to kick a ball again in club league football.
As is so often the case, the facts are a tad less romantic.
The home side would have gone down even had they won.
The man who scored 30 goals for Scotland in just 55 appearances made the last of those against Zaire in the World Cup Finals in West Germany just a few weeks later.
And Law, who had hit the net 237 times for United in 404 appearances – and now has a statue outside Old Trafford – had his swansong for City in a Texaco Cup tie at the start of the following season before retiring.
That is not what really matters, however.
What makes his final derby goal an iconic moment is the horror with which Law, who believed he had put his old team down, reacted to the outcome of what he described as his “absolute fluke”.
Is it about how you feel about the club that you used to play for?
The respect and affection he held for United outweighed any desire he had to help win the game for City.
Near half a century on, the question of exactly how to react to success against your old club remains as much of an issue for players now as it has ever been, and is one that continues to divide opinion.
Last weekend, David Turnbull hit a terrific goal for Celtic at Fir Park then kept his arms firmly by his side, barely cracking a smile.
In contrast, on the same day, former Staggie Marcus Fraser scored for St Mirren in Dingwall, and leapt in the air, cheering like a lottery winner.
Is it about how you feel about the club that you used to play for, and the fans who loved you then? Or do you owe your loyalty to whoever pays your wages right now?
Mo Johnston, the ex-celtic star who teased of a return to the Hoops by posing in a jersey, then signed for Rangers, left no one in any doubt of his feelings when he scored for the Light Blues in the Old Firm derby in November, 1989.
Sprinting to the corner flag, he thrust his arms in the air to acknowledge the thunderous applause from the Rangers support.
With that one swing of the boot, he silenced the doubters and, through the celebration, delivered a message to those Celtic fans who had vilified him as a modern-day Judas.
If it was not quite Emmanuel Adebayor’s sprint the length of the pitch to slide on his knees in front of an Arsenal support after scoring for Manchester City 20 years later, it was unequivocal all the same.
While the individual circumstances matter – and Adebayor’s friends in the game argued he had been provoked by derogatory songs about his family – do not forget, either, the importance of the previous connection to the club.
Because what is certain is that the watching public will make their own judgments as to how valid – and how genuine – your remorse actually is.
Only last month, Jesse Lingard was met with bemusement when he refused to celebrate a goal for Manchester United against West Ham, with whom he had only been on loan last term.
Fans are not daft, and they accept their players may have feelings for other clubs. But within reason.
Hometown teams, clubs where you have been developed as a youth player, and ones who have represented for a significant number of years, are all perfectly fine and given a pass.
Fierce rivals can be a different matter.
One-time Celtic hero, Charlie
Nicholas, showed little emotion after converting a shoot-out penalty that would ultimately condemn his former club to defeat in the 1990 Scottish Cup Final, and the reaction was mixed among the Hoops support.
Then again, he was playing for Aberdeen by then, not Rangers.
What is certain is that scoring against a former club is a tricky matter, and will remain so.
As much as David Turnbull tried to stay solemn on scoring against Motherwell, his dignified silence was sabotaged, partially anyway, by his jubilant team-mates who swept him towards the Celtic support.
And here we can allow ourselves to dream.
Should Che Adams be lucky enough to score for Scotland against England, his country of birth, in next year’s World Cup Finals, he is unlikely to get much choice in the matter.
As a rule, straddling the fence is fine, as long as you appreciate it carries a risk of getting pulled down – from one side or the other.