A week ago many Manchester City fans regarded Bernardo Corradi as a goal-squandering mercenary who did a passable impression of Joe Jordan’s grandmother. And now? He is the king of cool, emperor of the urbane, the Falstaff of football.
This is not so much because of the two goals he scored at the weekend but because of the way he celebrated them. He ran over to the corner flag, uprooted the pole and used it to knight the club tearaway Sir Joey of Barton. Before the celebrations, we had no clue what kind of man Corradi was. Now we know he is witty, generous, imperious: a true aristocrat with an egalitarian streak.
It is remarkable what a celebration tells us about the scorer. Alan Shearer’s macho outstretched arm is so Alan Shearer that he patented it. The brilliantly understated Colin Bell just about raised a hand in acknowledgment — a bashful thanks rather than a victorious salute. Denis Law celebrated with one finger in the air — stylish but modest — until he scored for City against United to relegate them and marked it with a grief-stricken tear. Samuel Eto’o followed a goal at Real Madrid’s Bernabéu with a Black Power salute.
A quality celebration can define the player. There appears to be an infinite variety of goal-scoring gestures but ultimately, as with all stories, there are seven basic plots.
The pole dancer
Choreographed by Cameroon’s Roger Milla. His goals in 1990 were celebrated by dirty-dancing the corner flag with supreme lubricity. The Czech Republic’s Jan Koller reinterpreted the pole dance when he knelt down, stuck it between his legs and claimed it as his own.
The acrobat
Mexico’s Hugo Sánchez was the first noted exponent of the back-flip, which reached its apogee when Nigeria’s Julius Agahowa performed six in succession against Sweden in 2002. The somersault’s comic potential has been exploited by Robbie Keane, whose forward rolls are followed by an invisible arrow fired at an invisible enemy. Its risk potential was shown in April by Lomana LuaLua, who went from hero to invalid in 10 seconds and ended his season five games early with a sprained ankle.
The lunatic
Temuri Ketsbaia scored for Newcastle, ripped off his shirt, ran over to the advertising boards and kicked the crap out of them. Shefki Kuqi throws himself in the air and body slams into the ground — bonkers but brilliant.
The egotist
As perfected by Frenchmen of genius. Cantona’s magnificent run, one-two and chip was followed by puffed-chest, arms-aloft, adore-me I-am-the-resurrection pose. Thierry Henry simply pouts or makes a narcissistic T with thumb and index finger.
The ecstatic
Charlie George lying down, all lank hair, exhaustion and amazement after scoring the Cup winner; Ryan Giggs sprinting half the pitch twirling his top after an FA Cup semifinal winner; Marco Tardelli running to nowhere after scoring the World Cup winner, his face getting madder and more disbelieving by the footstep; injury-cursed Jonathan Woodgate jumping into the arms of Real Madrid’s club doctor after scoring a goal; Lilian Thuram sending France to the World Cup semifinals in 1998 — he sank to his knees, pressed a finger to his lips and stared into the middle of the next century, an improvisation he called his Miles Davis moment.
The thespian
Football is flooded with unrequited mime artists. Brazil’s Bebeto began the cradle-rocking tribute. Back in 1994 it was tender and affecting. Since then it has been copied by most Chelsea players and has become shorthand for Mawkish Fertility God. Francesco Totti reinvented it by magicking a doll from nowhere and feeding it a baby’s bottle — ingenious. Gazza’s Dentist’s Chair, in which he lay down, mouth open, as his colleagues poured imaginary tequila into his mouth was a homage to the team’s excesses. Jurgen Klinsmann’s ironic dive was a tribute to himself. Robbie Fowler’s line-sniff was more taunt than homage — to Everton fans who suggested he was a cocaine user.
The depraved
Finidi George marked the goal that took Nigeria through to the second round of the 1994 World Cup finals by getting down doggie-style, crawling around and cocking a leg on his patch. Nothing, though, beats Sevilla’s Francisco Gallardo -‒ he did not score the goal but his role in the celebration was central. After José Antonio Reyes banged one in against Valladolid in 2001 he marked the occasion by nibbling the scorer’s penis. — Â