To Play For Leeds
The asking price was met. The deal was done. The player was ‘reluctant’, ‘unsure’, ‘unwilling to commit.’ All phrases that translate as ‘a treacherous coward’ in the ears of a Leeds United fan. Arrogance? We married it. “Forestieri? I bought him,” says Cellino.
Uwe Rosler says he has not spoken to Fernando Forestieri. “I can’t tell you if he wants to come here or not,” he says.
It’s not clear who has been talking to Fernando Forestieri, if anyone has. Fernando looks happy with his life. He tweeted photos of himself this week on a merry plane ride to play a game for Watford against Preston in the League Cup. He started that game, his first of the season, but Watford lost, 1–0.
Last weekend he was tweeting his thanks to the Watford fans for supporting him during their game against Southampton; “Was nice to be in the pitch again feeling the love from the fans,” he said, and there must have been plenty of love going round Vicarage Road that day because Fernando was only an unused substitute. He sat on the bench next to Watford’s kitman, who sobbed uncontrollably for the full ninety minutes, overwhelmed with emotion at his reception from Watford’s fervent, passionate support.
Either Forestieri is fronting or he really is blissfully unaware that Massimo Cellino effectively owns him now. “Forestieri? I bought him,” Massimo allegedly told everybody’s favourite Twitter source, Emanuele Giulianelli. “Yesterday I was with his agent that seemed enthusiastic, today looks hesitant: what do you want me to tell?”
What’s with the echoes of Jane Eyre? That’s what I want you to tell, Massimo. Oh, and what exactly does “I bought him” mean here? Because if he was bought to play football for Leeds United, his midweek game for Watford and the newspaper stories that Sheffield Wednesday are about to sign him suggest that there is more work to do on that deal.
Or no work at all. There is an argument that when you reach an impasse with a player like this, that you should keep fluttering your eyelashes at him, keep sending the fruitbaskets, the courtesy cars, the brand new set of golf clubs; or that you should set off, as a deputation, Cellino, Rosler, Pearson, Terry George, Lucas the Kop Cat, down the motorway to Surrey or whatever to call at Chez Forestieri and put an arm round him, and talk. Really talk. Convince him to come. It’s Leeds United; it’s a great club. Uwe’s a great manager. Lucas is a great Kop Cat. Terry’s a great… Terry’s great. Everything in Leeds is just great. Come on, son.
The other argument is that you should just drop the ungrateful little swine like the rock that he is into the deepest well available, and impound every long-haired collie in the county so that there’s no chance of a rescue. We don’t know what Forestieri has been offered in terms of financial rewards, but he has been offered the chance to play for Leeds United, and that ought to be enough.
Maybe once upon a time it would have been, but it’s not the automatic deal-closer it might once have been. Massimo Cellino has played his own part in that, creating such a crazyhouse atmosphere around the club that players like Chris Wood admit to having to think very carefully about joining, because of all the things they’ve heard. On the other hand, meeting Cellino (and Rosler) helped to convince Wood that things at Leeds would be a-okay.