It is not always the case. The sentimental relationship between Pelé and Santos was so long and happy that it never ended. Or Rei played almost 15 years in the club of his life, had an endless farewell (with world tour included) when the legs did not give him more, rejected offers from European institutions such as Real Madrid and Juventus and ended up taking refuge in the Cosmos New Yorker to swell your checking account. Pele and the people of Santos did not stop loving each other.
The most frequent, however, is a burst full of reproaches. There is the case of Alfredo di Stéfano, the most amazing football machine ever seen by the stands of Chamartín. Di Stéfano was the main person in charge of which Real Madrid obtained the first five editions of the then called European Cup and inoculated in Madrid the virus of victory: since Di Stéfano, the merengue fans assume that it is normal to win.
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In 1964, after adding another Spanish League title and losing the European Cup final to the great Inter of Helenio Herrera, Real Madrid decided to dispense with his greatest hero. He was 38 years old, had fought with coach Miguel Muñoz and had not understood the hints of Raimundo Saporta, right hand of President Santiago Bernabéu. The club no longer loved him. He was offered to stay in an office without a specific task (journalist Alfredo Relaño told it very well), but Di Stéfano was too proud to let others decide for him when he could leave football. In August 1964 he signed for Espanyol, where his friend Ladislao Kubala trained. And he sent Bernabéu a bleeding telegram, which included the phrase "you as a father failed me."
In pain, Bernabéu erased the name of the little boat he had in Santa Pola. His fishing boat stopped being called La Saeta Rubia . The president and the player never spoke to each other again. The fans did not realize much of the significance of that farewell, because in 1966 came another European Cup, the last of Gento, the Jejés. It took more than 30 years to win it again. Di Stéfano returned, as a coach and finally as honorary president. They were already other times.
The break between Maradona and Naples was so special (a whirlwind of drugs and suspensions) that it doesn't work as an example. Yes it is worth, however, that of Johan Cruyff and Barcelona. Now it seems incredible, because Cruyff's great comeback is remembered as a coach, but in 1978 the best European footballer and the Barca fans said goodbye in an icy way. Cruyff seemed to have lost his taste for the game. The fans felt freaked out by a guy who earned more and did less every year. The fervor of 1974, the glorious season, had completely dissipated. There were pitos, a bland tribute party and a goodbye that, despite what happened afterwards, had nothing to "see you later". Cruyff remained a genius, practically forty still won a Dutch League with Feyenoord and allowed himself to invent the frivolity of the indirect penalty. It took years for the mutual spite between soccer and soccer fans to become longing.
Leo Messi will one day leave Barcelona. The greatest footballer of today rose from the quarry, but he never stopped loving Newell's or feeling rosarino. What will your last day be like? Maybe like Pele and Santos. The most likely, however, is that things turn out to be rougher, because great football loves often end badly.
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