Real Madrid – La Liga Raul Varela gives his opinion
Don’t mess up, Cristiano Ronaldo. Don’t come back. Don’t change the end of an unrepeatable era. I suspect that the Real Madrid fans’ anger has already passed for the way that you said goodbye. Still with the Real Madrid shirt soaked with the sweat of a Champions League win, with the confetti flying over the grass in Kiev, and with the contradiction of opening the exit door for Gareth Bale after being the MVP of that final thanks to a goal for the history books.
What Real Madrid fans surely want is to keep closing your eyes and imagine you scoring against any LaLiga Santander opponent. In any game, in any competition, in any way.
Nobody cares anymore about your mess with the tax authorities and your desire to earn more money and make Florentino Perez jump through hoops.
You won’t be able to surpass what you did at Real Madrid. And even if Real Madrid are going to improve as a team, nothing will be the same. Because no, I can’t imagine you coming back to say goodbye without competing, to assume a secondary role that forces you to become the one who is sacrificing in order to allow another forward to shine in Karim Benzema.
If you don’t like Turin, if you don’t like Juventus, try new horizons: England, your home in Portugal, maybe another league where you can be more relaxed, even if it doesn’t fit in your head right now. But don’t insist on rewriting an absolutely idyllic outcome of more than 400 games and 400 goals at Real Madrid, where it might take half a century for someone to erase your legacy.
It humanises you to accept the mistake. Even if you still don’t have a roof over your head, it’s often cold outside the Estadio Santiago Bernabeu and you’ve been caught without a coat. A good message for Sergio Ramos. Even for your alter ego, Lionel Messi.
But Cristiano, you have to return to Real Madrid to be the best ambassador possible and to occupy the honorary presidency in a few years’ time. But not as a player.
It is time for Kylian Mbappe. Or Erling Haaland. Or Harry Kane. Or someone new. Or anyone who still has blank pages to write. Because Cervantes left it written in the mouth of Don Quixote: second halves were never good. Cristiano and his squire, Jorge Mendes. And the clock of life turned into the Knight of the White Moon.