Taken from my blog (address in profile, for those of you who are interested):
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It's a story as old as Alex Ferguson's haircut.
The flames are finally beginning to dwindle in Rafa's long-distance love affair with our Argentinian ankle-biter, Javier Mascherano. After trying to share his affections between two equally exotic mistresses, one Italian, one Spanish, Mascherano has quickly found himself jilted by both and forced to cozy up in the marital doghouse while he tries to repair relations (perhaps literally, if you believe reports that his wife is desperate to leave Merseyside).
Whilst Mascherano cuts an increasingly lonely figure though, Rafa is already moving on, ready to take solace in the arms of an old flame; an energetic, bubbly blonde that he's always had a weak spot for.
Yep. It's Dirk Kuyt.
Derided by many as unproductive or simply workmanlike, Kuyt was nevertheless one of a few ever-presents in Benitez's notoriously revolving lineups. Rafa has always seen the marauding Dutchman through rose-tinted glasses and, if today's stories are to be believed, then it hasn't taken long for Rafa to pick up the phone and begin wooing his former protege once more.
Reports of Interflora (an ingenious front, perhaps?) delivering a large bouquet of tulips to the Kuyt residence are still to be confirmed.
It's clear that Dirk Kuyt has great affection for Liverpool Football Club and the frankness of the statement made by Kuyt's agent, Rob Jansen, is a testament to his character (Jansen also made tantalizing mention of a "player" being included in the deal. Which of last-year's outgrown jodphurs could this be - Mancini? Sulley Muntari? - I can hardly contain my excitement).
In my previous post, I said that playing for Liverpool will almost always mean more to a British player. When adding the "almost", Kuyt was one of the players I had in mind.
Whilst he isn't always the most graceful or flashy of players, I would be extremely sad to see Dirk Kuyt leave Liverpool. He's a player you can always rely on to give 100% in a game (10% short of what many managers desire, but good enough for me). In American Football, coaches often talk about a player's "intangibles", the things a player brings to a team that can't be measured by any statistics; this is an area in which Dirk Kuyt is peerless.
Sorry Obama, but when I think of windmills and energy, I think of Dirk Kuyt.
More importantly though, I think Kuyt's measurable contributions are often overlooked.
Dirk Kuyt's goal scoring record for Liverpool works out to about a goal every four games (every 3.94 games, if you'd like me to be precise). Not a great ratio for a striker, but impressive when you consider most of Kuyt's games for Liverpool have been on the right-side of midfield; even more so when you take into consideration that 27 of those games were as a substitute.
Over the past two seasons, in the Premier League alone, Kuyt contributed 21 goals and 13 assists.
Combine these contributions with Kuyt's other attributes and he's a player who would be difficult to replace. Actually, this is my main concern about the whole story.
Having turned thirty about a month ago, Kuyt wouldn't command a premium transfer fee. At least what Liverpool paid for him, certainly, but I'm not convinced this would be enough to sign a decent replacement, especially if some of the money is siphoned off into strengthening other positions, such as the left-back slot.
At the moment, Liverpool's only other right-midfielder is Maxi Rodriguez; an adequate back-up, but not someone I'd be keen to see pressed into a regular starting position.
With less than two weeks before the transfer window slams shut (why the powers-that-be can never close it gently, I have no idea), finding someone who could immediately match Kuyt's impact on a game would be almost impossible.
So with renewed enthusiasm for all that is Dirk, I'll quietly hope that our blue-collar Cruyff, our right-sided Rembrandt, our Netherlandic Neuron-bomb (okay, too far) will glance across the freshly mown Melwood training pitches to the cautionary tale of Ol' Mascherano, and see that the grass is, in fact, not always greener on the other side; I'll hope that Rafa's whispered sweet nothings of Chianti, Canneloni and Cambiasso are not quiet enough to tempt Dirk into straying.
I'll hope that all our crows of under-appreciation don't finally come home to roost.
Don't leave us Dirk, it'll never happen again.
We promise.
