Even among as divisive and fractious a fan-base as Arsenal’s, no topic has generated as much feverish argument as the one regarding Cesc Fabregas. Sure, Arsene Wenger’s spending habits have always elicited disparate reactions from the Gunners’ faithful; both Stan Kroenke and Alisher Usmanov consistently find supporters in their all-gloves-off boardroom bout; and opinion still stands divided on whether Abou Diaby should paint his goatee Bleu Blanc Rouge. But all these topics are mere novellas next to the epoch-spanning ballad of love, regret, and unrequited loyalty that is Cesc’s Arsenal career. It’s been two years since the Spanish midfielder left for Barcelona, and we still have a significant number of Arsenal fans either bowing at his feet or jeering in his face.
The agenda facing this article is an unenviable one: attempting to sift through the minefield of opinion Cesc – both as a player and as a captain – before taking a stand on whether the word ‘legend’, that most disputed of terms, can be applied to him.
Assuming that a legend is remembered by the way he played, the way he led, and the way he departed, here goes the dissection:
The Player
Now this one is a tap in from three yards; hardly anyone is going to disagree with the fact that Cesc is one of the most talented midfielders to have ever donned the red-and-white. When he stared off against Rotterham as a tender sixteen year-old, Arsenal’s midfield roster was all studded gems and loaded guns with Patrick Vieira, Edu, Robert Pires, Freddie Ljungberg, and Gilberto Silva all pulling the strings and running rings. In such a situation, Cesc had to show something special to catch the eye, and he did exactly that.
When Vieira decided to defect to Italian champions Juventus, Wenger took a leap of faith and gave Cesc the responsibility of conducting the Arsenal orchestra from the middle of the pitch. The sprightly Spanish adolescent took up his baton and rose to the challenge, playing with a maturity, calmness, and big-game temperament far beyond his years to complement his already precocious ability. Old skins were shed as Vieira’s Juventus were laid by the wayside en route to the Champions League final in 2006. And while Arsenal lost that final, they had gained a new midfield lynchpin.
At his Arsenal peak from 2007-2010, Cesc was one of the best midfielders in Europe. In his last five seasons in England, he created 466 scoring chances, more than any other Premier League player. His uncanny knack of setting the game’s tempo made him nigh on irreplaceable: he could speed the passing up, slow the passing down, lump it long, or slide it through. At the flick of a switch, the ball would be set on a platter for the striker to score. Cesc viewed the football field as if sitting in a helicopter hovering above the stadium: the position of every player, every opponent, and every blade of grass set in stark relief in his mind.
Goal-scoring was soon added to this already well-furnished skill set. When Cesc was pushed higher up the pitch in 2009, he responded by netting 19 times in a remarkably fecund season. Whether it was intelligent support runs in the box to finish attacks off or pile-drivers from afar, Fabregas had added that match-winning shot to the match-winning pass to become a match-winning player. And a match-winning player he remained till the end.
Legend? Yes.
The Captain
Ah, this one is a bit greyer. When Cesc was made captain in the wake of Gallas’s shenanigans and horrible on-pitch results, the decision was met with almost universal approval. But if one looks back at his entire tenure of captaincy, it’s more pockmarked than perfect.
For every period of inspiration, there seems to have been the odd moment of immaturity. That magnificent goal against Tottenham scored straight from kick-off was cancelled out in spirit by a mindless penalty-causing handball the season after; the high of scoring a goal with a broken leg against Barcelona was levelled by the low of a cavalier back-heel to gift Barcelona the lead in the next leg; there were match-winning cameos against Aston Villa, but there were also periods of scant and draught.
Although not directly related to his captaincy, this was also the period when niggling injuries reared their ugly head and took Cesc down under. His hamstring seemed to be made of decaying catgut that needed constant touching up; he started flitting in and out of the side like a peripheral hummingbird rather than the constant woodpecker we had known for so long. Some players like Denilson started questioning his style of captaincy as well: one of quiet leading rather than hoarse-voiced grandstanding, one perhaps focused too much on action and not enough on words.
More than anything, detractors will point towards the empty trophy cabinet during Cesc’s time as captain to drive home their point. And they wouldn’t be entirely wrong. The trophy haul during Cesc’s entire career has been paltry (1 FA Cup and 1 Community Shield), but fan memories for individual players needn’t be intertwined with silverware. For captains however, it is often the recollection of him lifting the trophy and roaring like the fourth English lion that make fans weak-kneed. Perhaps Cesc wasn’t given the resources and team to succeed by Wenger, but his captaincy had enough foibles to begin with.
Legend? No.
The Departure
Straight split down the middle. Relationships are often remembered by the way they end, and the cutting of the Cesc-Arsenal umbilical cord has been bitterer than coffee-coated citrus peels. A multitude of theories abound on the subject, but the common undercurrent runs like so: Cesc and Wenger had a gentleman’s agreement at the end of the 2009-10 season that the player would be allowed to leave after another year if Arsenal didn’t win anything. Grass grew, paint dried, and Arsenal went trophyless to everyone’s utter lack of breath-intakes and eyebrow-raises. Cesc started to say sayonara, but Arsene hung on to his coattails and refused to let go. So, to make his position at the club untenable, it is widely believed that Cesc faked injury, refused to go on tour, and made little fists to hit on the ground and cry until his dream move materialized.
As an opening caveat, Cesc wasn’t the first and won’t be the last Arsenal player to pine for a move to pastures new. But a lot depends on the player’s perceived reason for the move, and the way he goes about it. Vieira practically forced a move through to Juventus, and Henry strolled through the last year of his contract earning juicy loyalty bonuses before joining Barcelona. Ashley Cole signed for Chelsea at arguably the peak stages of his career owing to dissatisfaction with the financial terms that Arsenal were offering him. The former two are still remembered fondly as Gunners because they left for ‘nobler’ footballing or emotional reasons, while Cole is always viewed as a snake in the grass for defecting to city rivals because of money.
Using this broad framework, Cesc’s reasons for wanting a transfer were widely considered to be sound. Barcelona was his home town and home club, a club that he had left eight years ago for Arsenal and increased playing opportunities, and one of the best footballing teams on the planet. Some would say that backstabbing the club that gave you a chance on the big stage wasn’t very becoming, but he had given his best in every game for eight years and worn the cannon on heart and sleeve.
His modus operandi for leaving can alternately be described as mutely respectful and insidiously disrespectful. Some say that Cesc refrained from sullying Arsenal’s name or lowering his transfer price by going public like some Dutch skunks have since done, and always strove to maintain positive relations with everyone connected to the club. Others would say that he engineered the transfer through sleight of hand and stubbornness, even being desperate enough to pay some of the transfer fee himself and push the deal through. It’s a tug-of-war in relentless static equilibrium.
Legend? Depends.
Conclusion
After 1400 pointless words, we’re struggling to find any takeaways from this. Cesc’s playing skills were legendary, his captaincy skills less so, and the manner of his departure is hotly contested to this day. The fact that the entire Arsenal fan-base was clamouring for him to return this summer after hearing rumours says two things: we loved him as a player, and we could do with his services.
Cesc’s Arsenal career isn’t as unique as it’s been made out to be (the Brady similarity stands out in particular): but because fans like us have grown up with him and grown up watching him, all the crests and troughs seem that much more personal.
So…we’ll adjourn this till the next crest?
