The Psychology of Expectation: The Decline and Fall of Fernando Torres

The man who once put Vidic on his backside in two rounds at Old Trafford now waits to see if he will be pushed off the cliff by a man who cost one seventh the price.

This afternoon we will find out whether the once fearful Fernando Torres is about to be pushed of the cliff by the manager who brought him to England in 2007. He was once a man who struck fear into the heart of defences across the country.

His dominant performances when leading the line for Liverpool in his early days were like watching a Thunder Cat leap, bound and slide his way, with slightly supernatural verve, past anyone who dared stand in his way.

A mixture of strong running, quick feet and the ability to finish with either foot as well as his head made him without question one of the most complete strikers in the Premier League. However, the attribute that has gone out of his game, which stands out like a sore thumb, is his loss of fight.

The young Spaniard used to leap into challenges like a pouncing lion. He looked like a boy who had been told that his mother was being held hostage back in Spain and, unless he scored a goal, she would never be returned to him. This video, hardly a montage of his finest moments, shows that this fighting spirit and the driving need to win the ball and score goals have left him.

"Demba, I don't want to play anymore!" "There, there Fernando, it's alright, I'm here now."

His past two performances, against QPR and Swansea, which have coincided with the arrival of Demba Ba, have not served to ignite this spirit either. It is as if all Torres wants is a moment away from the spotlight and so he passively awaits that blissful moment when he is nudged out of the starting line-up and eventually forgotten about.

It is like watching a man who has handed in his resignation and is working his notice. The job means nothing any more as he sits at his desk all day dreaming of his cottage in the Sierra Nevada where he will just sit, without worry, in a place where he can just be Fernando Torres the person.

This modern condition of expecting so much from, not only footballers, but people in all walks of life, serves only to increase this sense of longing for a quieter existence somewhere; a simpler life. The higher the expectations, the harder it is to exceed them, even meet them.

In the world of football, it doesn’t matter how Fernando Torres feels; only whether he scores goals. He is no longer the young whippersnapper looking to impress the boss, happy to crush his peers, looking for the next promotion. He is the lonely guy at the top thinking: how did my life become solely about this? Is it really that important to me anymore?

Indignant Chelsea fans will be out for his blood, calling for his head and whatever else unruly mobs call for when they no longer like someone. Their sense of entitlement, sickening to the majority of us – “ ’e cost ‘us’ fifty million an’ ‘e can’t be bovered”  -  cursing and swearing like it was their own money in the first place. They will be travelling up to the Britannia Stadium praying that the name they see on the back of the match day programme is Ba, and not Torres.

To be fair, Torres does not look like a man who is going to break down one of the most miserly defences in the league this year.  Ba, on the other hand, has an air of raw energy and excitement about him. He is one of only 7 premier league players to have a goal ratio that is greater than one goal every other game. Many huge names of Premier League fame cannot say the same, Torres included.

So I fully expect to see Ba start this afternoon; the decline of Fernando Torres complete, only the fall to go. To me, his career will always be a very interesting case of how the psychology of expectation can have unforeseen consequences. 

There is an element of schadenfreude involved in watching a Russian billionaire fritter away his fortune on a Spaniard who doesn't seem that bothered by it. Having seemingly lost one of the most scintillating strikers in recent memory, this, for me, is the silver lining: despite the fact that it dominates the game such a degree, money cannot always buy you everything in football.