Bad boy Balotelli, big baby Nazmi?

Italy’s Mario Balotelli and our very own Nazmi Faiz Mansor are at the opposite ends of the football planet. One’s infuriatingly infantile, the other about to embark on a journey of adulthood, a mere boy feeling his way in a man’s world.

MARIO Balotelli is 22 ; Malaysia’s Nazmi , only reached the age of majority last year. However, the Italian’s juvenile jaunts suggests he has not been completely weaned off his baby’s dummy.

Their tortured trail on the slippery slope of football superstardom was laid out for all to see during the so-called transfer frenzy at the beginning of the year. First, enfant terrible numero uno moved from Manchester City back to Italy, having lost two million Euros in value. Nazmi’s circumstances are far less clear, but more of him later.

Balotelli has ball skills of that there is no doubt. Trouble is, only he seems to think he deserves to be considered on a higher planet – not on par mind you - than Lionel Messi, the Argentian pocket rocket unanimously acclaimed as belonging to a different universe.

Balotelli’s la la Land existence can best be blamed on the egging of hangers on and fair-weathered cheerleaders who tell him what he wants to hear. Even his former boss Roberto Mancini went to extraordinary lengths to accommodate his idiosyncricies.

While Balotelli easily juggles the size 8 UEFA-specified competition football with his feet, the size of the box between his ears appears no bigger than a golf ball. Just when you think he has plumbed the depths and reached the pits, he bamboozles us further with something even more brazenly juvenile.

Remember the trouble he had getting this training bib the right way round? The pyrotechnic antics he got up to that nearly burned his fancy home? The parking fines he collected? The training ground bust up with team mates? Why, he even rained some darts at junior team mates!

Despite his undoubted talent, Man City’s return on its 24 million Euro investment on Balotelli must be considered negative. He reportedly scored 22 goals during his City sojourn and you don’t need anyone with Euclidean inclinations to tell you the maths just not add up. With such a sparse goal per game statistics to his name, he is more remembered for his off-field antics than on field productivity.

He is often pictured emerging from expensive boutiques laden with bags of fresh purchases. Far from being a fashionable clothes horse, he promptly appears on the front and back pages of the Sun or the Mirror the next day wearing what he could have easily and more cheaply picked up from some jumble sale.

His navigational skills does not include the ability to find a proper parking lot. He simply jumps out his warpainted Bently right at the very door of whatever store that takes his fancy. At one time, he had parking fines totaling more than RM45,000 to his name.

The UK local authorities are not as accommodating as ours here so he can’t expect any discount should David Cameron decide to court some votes in aid of his proposed European Union referendum.

His goal tally may not be impressive but that has not prevented him from scoring big away from the heat of football battle. Somehow, it must be something more than his eccentricity that makes breathless women throw themselves at his feet.

Busty babbling babes falling the charms of bronzed Brazilian footballers are not without precedent.

I am reminded of Jordan, the British model who cooed contentedly of the prowess of Ronaldinho (he of curly locks and rabit tooth grin) away from the green turf of the Maracana. “He was like a jackhammer,” was her verdict of the footballer’s exploits.

The last time I checked, ‘Ronnie’ was not a member of any roadwork repair gang down in the favelas – so her compliments must refer to his libidinous prowess within the confines of some hotel four-poster.

No slouch in that department either, Balotelli has fathered a daughter to whom he shows little inclination to feed, much less fuss or shower any fatherly fawn.

So amid all this, our very own Nazmi fled Portugal. He left amid such big fanfare some months previously embarking on a venture of the world of European professional football. Just imagine, earning more in a month what the average Malaysian can in a year; or three!

So why is he staring a gift horse in the mouth? It is quite painful to see a young man, with the world literally at his feet, apparently squandering a glittering future.

Nazmi has kept exasperatingly mum on the issue. By keeping quiet, he has drawn plenty of unwanted attention. His very act of evasion simply allowed unsubstantiated stories to fester and be constant conjecture rife with rumour. There is rancour too as enough Malaysian sports fans think they have a say in his footballing future and that he has let them down.

Since we do not want the bandwagon to leave us straggling, let this column jump into the lively swill eh? Firstly, do we know exactly what was the contract the young lad committed himself to? Since he is not public limited company nor is he subject to any form of public accountability, what he signed is strictly none of anyone’s business.

Word was the young man missed his nasi lemak, roti canai and teh tarik.

Really? Does he not know it is this very diet that has kept our football achievements somewhere north of Bhutan and a little south of Bangladesh? All that oily and sweet stuff without much protein nor essential vitamins nor fortifying calcium at the breakfast table does not a mighty man make. Why, when pitted against Singapore’s imports, we are but mere midgets – imagine your school U-15 pitted against the seniors playing for the U-18s at the last Suzuki Cup!

Could it be the natural reaction of the jilted and jealous beau? Twitterjaya and the online space is awash with salacious gossip. One rag hat it that the girlfriend he left behind had run into the arms of one-time team mate!

When you are shivering in the grey European winter with just a PVC sleeping bag to keep warm, a footballer’s idle mind would be perfect workshop for the green eyed monster. You wouldn’t blame the young man if he tosses and turns in his boudoir lusting for his pink cotton bolster to bite back!

Back in sunnier climes, Nazmi no doubt can revel in the jaguh kampong (local champion) tag. Playing for one of the richer local clubs, he can expect a monthly salary of up to RM30,000 a month and generous performance bonuses. Big it may be by local standards, chicken feed it is when compared to what the likes of Rooney or Ronaldo earns in a mere minute.

So, while one footballer goes home to Italy to explore his Latin manhood, the other appears to have waved the white flag of surrender and opted to take what appears to all his admirers as a retroactive step. It remains to be seen who among the two will make it into football adulthood.

RAZAK CHIK recalls the classic anecdote that illustrates evolution of human sporting endeavour. Most start off with football in their youth, toy with tennis into their 30s and opt for golf as they prosper. Notice how the ball gets smaller as the man gets older?