Somehow, Danny Welbeck is the eighth oldest current Arsenal
player to start a league game this season. That fresh-faced, perma-smiling
23-year-old became 27. Welbeck is the reverse Peter Pan, the boy who suddenly
grew up. To talk any more about his potential is to unfairly ignore those now a
footballing generation younger than him.
Writer Karl
Ove Knausgaard has a theory about time. He believes that only when we have
reached the correct distance from objects and events – what we might call
knowledge – does time start to speed up.
‘We read, we
learn, we experience, we make adjustments,’ Knausgaard writes. ‘Then one day we
reach the point where all the necessary distances have been set. That is when
time picks up speed.’ When time has no obstacle in its path, no moments of
reference, it flies by.
That tells
the story of Welbeck between 2015 and 2018. Between 2011 and 2015, he
progressed from promising youngster to trophy-winning player and England
regular, experiencing an awful lot in a relatively short period of time. Since
then, Welbeck’s career has lost its milestones and its markers. He had always
been kept slightly in the shadows, but a step back from there took him into
total darkness. A career has thus ebbed away at double speed.
Welbeck’s
career is easily split into two: the roll of honour and the experience. He was
in Manchester United’s first-team squad when they won three Premier League
titles, but started only 14 matches across all three. He has won two FA Cups,
but started only five games in both runs combined. He has won the Champions
League, but didn’t play a minute in the competition that season. He has felt
eternally useful to England, but has not started a competitive game for almost
three years. Welbeck has started more than 20 league games in a season twice in
his career, and never scored ten league goals. He has managed fewer than 120
Premier League starts in his entire career.
Therein lies
the Welbeck Paradox. Footballers are often defined by their honours, but
silverware without responsibility is nothing. Nobody can truly be sated by
success unless they have had an integral part in its achievement. Others might
remember your trophies, but you remember your moments.
Now Welbeck
is Arsenal’s Europa League forward, or at least until the competition gets
serious enough for the first-teamers to step in. It’s the role that few want
and none truly clamour for. There is a huge difference between being a squad
player at your hometown club and one hundreds of miles south. The boy from
Longsight is a long way from home. Welbeck grew up on Markfield Avenue, less
than three miles from Old Trafford.
There is a permissible argument that Welbeck was never quite
good enough for what Manchester United, Arsenal and England needed (and need)
him to be, but that is an unanswerable – and uncharitable – question. He left
his hometown club – who happened to be the biggest club in the world – at the
age of 23 in search of regular football and further international recognition,
a young man challenging himself not to make do. Having trained from the ages of
eight and 18 to do all he ever wanted, his career was then undermined by
devastating injury.
Since arriving at Arsenal, Welbeck has missed 81 games missed
through issues with knees, cartilage, toe, hip and groin. Even if you consider
that an inevitable risk of the industry and that club, it hardly reduces the
gloom.
Often
overlooked is the anguish caused not by injuries themselves, but the situation
faced post-recovery. In a sport that never sleeps, replacements are sourced and
new heroes identified. If there is one thing harder than not being able to
play, it’s not being allowed to.
For clubs and
countries like Arsenal and England, eternally frustrating to their beloveds, a
reputation can often improve in absentia. But that only makes the comeback
harder. You are asked – expected – to start at a sprint. The rustiness sticks
out.
“The first
injury that came was difficult to take. I’d never been out for so long and
experienced such a situation,” Welbeck told Sky Sports in January 2017. “But
the second one just wiped me out completely. It just felt like someone was there
punching me each time I tried to get back up.” I’m sure some find the social
media memes about injury-prone players amusing, but I must have missed the
joke. It’s heartbreaking.
For Daniel
Sturridge and Theo Walcott, the same issue exists. Instinct players who are too
developed to learn a new way, but whose instincts have been eroded by the
physical and mental impact of injuries. It becomes harder to trust what always
used to work, and nothing else does.
These three
were once England’s blue-eyed boys, not part of a golden generation but still
with more than a little lustre. Only one player has scored an England hat-trick
since Walcott. Only three current players have more England goals than Welbeck.
Only ten players have scored for England at a World Cup and European
Championship, and Sturridge is one. The class of ‘89 and ‘90, now slumped into
footballing middle age.
It is easy to
predict Welbeck’s Arsenal future, because we have seen it before. Arsene Wenger
will talk up his importance while simultaneously proving those words cheap by
rarely picking him. With a contract expiring at the end of next season, he may
well be sold this summer or leave on a free transfer in 2019. By then, Welbeck
will be almost 29. Will he still be battling to establish the points of
reference that can slow down time?
“Playing
football every single day on the streets and just having a kickabout. That’s
what made me happy when I was younger and it’s still what makes me happy
today,” Welbeck said in an interview with Arsenal’s official website last year.
“Even now, you’ve really got to enjoy playing football and I think that’s when
a lot of us are at our happiest, when we’ve got the ball at our feet.”
All Welbeck
ever wanted to do was play football and all he ever wants to do is play
football. But he is the street footballer who can’t play, the forward who
desperately wants to rediscover form and make people happy but is having to do
so in an impossible environment where there is no room for patience.
That task
only gets harder, never easier. Time only ever speeds up. Dat Guy is in danger
of becoming Dat Forgotten Guy, and it’s a crying shame.
Daniel Storey
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