“Rotweiler!” – the word was pivotal on a sluggish Sunday afternoon. A potential barbecue beef sandwich was enough to inspire, generating a scintillating run past the opposition for a goal. He made sure to demand the reward for a seemingly breathtaking feat. The boy was brilliant. His desire to express himself on the pitch regardless of who marked him spoke for an otherwise docile kid. Jarring tackles and tumbling fouls were accepted with grace, each providing awareness. He was enamoured by the game of football. His father Leonel Del Castillo discerned the kid’s perception of the sport over the more observable skill.
At the age of 15, he became the youngest ever player to play in the Argentine Primera División for Independiente, a result of his outspoken prowess. The kid blossomed with each game, finding solace under the beacon of passion. The feints more decisive, the strikes more clinical; he grabbed headlines in his seamless ways.
Whilst Boca Juniors and River Plate clutch onto the minds of fans around the world, the Avellaneda derby sits rooted in the culture of Argentina, glowing of authenticity amidst fervent fans. For the kid, his moment came in the Derby in 2005. A deft touch set him off, only the confetti stuck to his boot able to keep up momentarily. Diego Crosa awaited as a freight train barreled towards him. A feint outside, a feint inside, a feint outside. Crosa kept up but a shot across the goal ended up in the back of the net as the 17-year-old wheeled away. The jersey was off; underneath,
“Para Vos Emiliano”.
A close friend of his who had tragically passed away in an accident. The moment felt cathartic, as cathartic as can be from someone so composed.
A move to Atletico Madrid presented a token of recognition for a kid on the verge of a transition. A reluctant foray into remodelling brought questions in spades; ones attempting to gauge the phenomenon, from ability to style. His answer – “I am myself”.
Sergio Aguero had arrived, kid no more.
What followed hardly requires narration. The legend of the Argentinian surpassed conjectures. He shepherded the rebuilding of Manchester City, from noisy neighbours to inevitable juggernauts. 257 goals in 384 games, 181 of which came in the Premier League, placing him as the fourth best goal scorer in Premier League history. His words would have you believing otherwise however, showing poise over perhaps, earned braggadocio.
“For me, the most important thing is to win” he said as he brushed off the plaudits after a hat-trick against Chelsea in 2019.
The Citizens’ route to success elicited scorn. It prompted a toneless feel to the club and their accolades. A dazzling tapestry with a distinct lack of awe.
They do have their moment though. It speaks of tranquility in tandem with pandemonium. Taking the ball in his stride, no one else you’d rather have in that moment. The beloved near post at his mercy. Martin Tyler blessed the coronation of the Citizens.
It was Aguero. Year after year, it has been Aguero. The unassuming star with an unrivalled eye for goal never failed to turn heads.
Battles with injuries in relatively recent times brought a finality closer. The game against Borussia Mönchengladbach revealed a system that had left the Argentinian behind. The game flowed around him as he stood rudderless.
An announcement was made by the club regarding the departure of Sergio Aguero at the end of the season with a dash of eventuality mixed in. The final piece of the 2011/12 title-winning side bids farewell. A replacement will be found, a replacement only in name. In the face of a clear indictment of the game, one fact remains clear. There will never be another Sergio Aguero.
