Thanks For The Memories Poem by Anirudh Nair

The new season began with a tearful goodbye,
That's seen many expletive-filled reactions hurled;
It was a change of colossal proportions, true,
As it went on to shake up the footballing world.

Lionel was left with no choice besides calling time,
With number 672 the last in that sequence,
On 21 years in garnet and blue jerseys,
Each and every one of them one of consequence.

Then on to a Lutetian adventure he went,
As it was too much to ask him to play for free;
He'd a productive and eventful Summer, sure,
Concluding it with a richly deserved trophy.

Copa America reclaimed after decades,
By the Albiceleste, a wondrous story,
Better tribute to El Diego not scripted;
There were some victories that were rather gory.

Blood was spilt by the brave Skipper, as he contrived,
To lead from the front as he knew how: On the pitch,
With that magical left foot letting fly often,
All accolades up for grabs claimed, nary a glitch.

That was followed by a landmark hat-trick in style,
That saw a new leader in the goal-scoring chart,
From his continent, another record broken;
Despite the advanced age, Leo's still a work of art.

This is not to point fingers at anyone now,
What had to happen has happened and cannot change;
What might've been, a pointless hypothetical,
If ever there was one, though this be rather strange.

I seek not to play the blame game at this moment,
But to list out my choices for, should I direct,
Leo's biopic, as moments that deserve inclusion;
They cover, of his game, every little aspect.

I believe I've said this before, a few months back,
Ronaldinho was my first idol in this game;
So, instead of a top 10, I've 19 moments,
The number he sported while a spark, not the flame.

Please do note, that not all moments here had occurred,
In colours identified as garnet and blue;
Some of them were in different outfits as you'll see,
A good number saw him adorn white and sky blue.

Starting off the countdown is that crazy goal, yes,
With Bilbao on the receiving end in '15;
Then there's that chip versus Betis right from the edge,
Near replicated next year versus those in green.

First Clasico goal that turned into a hat-trick,
That saved the game for Barca, numbering only ten;
Let's also recall the hat-trick versus Brazil,
This time different scoreline, thanks to one number 10.

That game versus Bilbao in '11, playing host,
Their defence hemmed in nearly throughout the whole game;
That run in the second half in particular,
Not a penalty, the tackle that sought to maim! !

We move to the London bridge, by a goal trailing,
And a player as well, with just a minute to go,
On my knees and in tears, what I next chanced to see,
Iniesta scoring, but Leo set up the goal.

That selfsame season, a first in History saw,
Bayern ripped to shreds in just a half with some style;
Best game the Illusionist ever played, per moi,
Leo was no slouch either, that pair had too much guile.

I still remember that game against Wenger's lads,
Netting four, drawing praise and applause from Arsene;
A pair of seasons hence, ‘twas the same old story,
At the same venue, but he went one better then.

Jorge struggled to find the magic formula,
But guess who stepped up to gift-wrap that dear invite,
To Russian soil, for that most eventful Summer;
Ecuador had no choice but to give up the fight.

That run, snaking past four, at Eibar's home stadium,
That was a sight to behold, with eyes bugging out;
The MSN celebration at the year's start,
Against capital foes, in that beautiful rout.

The league winner that Summer is next on this list,
And I can tell you it is for a good reason;
Against the defending Campiones, it was,
Poetic justice for the previous season.

That little passing sequence the previous season,
Against Sociedad, in that first half at home;
The highlight of that season, it would prove to be,
Dripping with swagger, worth a dedicated tome.

That chip over Iker in '08, extra time,
Makes the cut over that 6-2 demolition;
That set the tone for what was to come in the league,
And made that result safe, quite a wise decision.

Speaking of demolitions, tribute must be paid,
To that sweetest Manita, unforgettable;
He scored not but had a pair of assists that night,
And was, for the 90, downright unplayable.

Top 3 is here, taking us to the Bernabeu,
In continental competition, when with glee,
The flea tore the royals apart, with superb brace,
Second one a deserving Puskas awardee.

Up next is Bayern in his crosshairs one more time,
Breaking the resistance after a superb pass,
With clever finish, but the next was rightly called,
A touch above world class at the least (Messi class) .

Last, we see him in white with sky blue stripes once more,
‘Twas the game with that pass with negative back spin;
Ray Hudson was not the only one going crazy,
When later, Messi out-jumped one CR7.

Well, those are all bygones, a place good for visits,
But not permanent residence, that's a sad fact;
If I haven't said my thanks yet, give it a mo',
I seek to hold him to his word, that little pact.

This is not goodbye, he tearfully said that day;
We Culers hope that proves to be, keeping eyes peeled,
And facing the horizon, we wish you the best,
A sight it would be if the Jules Rimet you'd wield.

Whether Paris or Rosario, the best of luck,
I pray, follows you, as does every Culer true;
You gave us nothing less for two decades and more,
A reason to enjoy el bonic joc were you.