251: Jon Walters, Stoke City, Topps Match Attax Trading Card Game, Barclays Premier League 2010/11 Collector Binder

Today Mat Jolin-Beech takes comparative study to new levels which may be beyond the comprehension of many football fans. This may be a particularly intriguing read for those familiar with the antics of a certain national treasure as, to the best of our knowledge, today’s subject hasn’t been bothering anyone’s granny or falling asleep on a night out recently. Over to Mat for the rest.

As I’ve said here before on A Sticker’s Worth 500 Words every club has those cult heroes. The legends that, outside of the four stands of that ground, are rarely respected, sometimes vilified, and often ignored. Andy Hessenthaler at Gillingham is a hero as both player and manager. Philippe Albert at Newcastle United for that goal against Manchester United.

I mention this because, a few years back at a friend’s wedding, football (obviously) was the topic of discussion amongst a group of us slightly drunk lads. One of us was (and still is for his sins), a Stoke City fan. Somehow as the conversation flowed, I ended up comparing England and United all-time record goal scorer Wayne Rooney with Stoke cult hero Jonathan Walters.

Walters, as you may not know, is neither of those things that Rooney is. The fact he’d never played for the Red Devils nor the Three Lions, representing the Republic of Ireland, may have something to do with that. If my memory serves me correctly, through the slight Heineken haze, the point I was making was that Walters didn’t actually look like a Premier League nor international level striker. Now, stats fans, 495 domestic games with 94 goals, coupled to 54 caps and 14 international goals will tell you I’m wrong. But bear with me and let me explain and let me elaborate on that Rooney comparison.

Both Walters and Rooney are what you’d call of the stocky build. At times, commentators would undoubtedly say they looked “heavy” if they were having a poor patch of form. When they were not having good games, they would look rubbish. Miscontrolled balls, poor passing and carry an air of moodiness. Usually these periods would come before, during or just after injury as both needed game time to get up to speed. When they were good, they were good. One more so than the other – but both looked like the players the stats tell us they were. Annoyingly for opposition fans, Walters would often pop up and score some big goals. None more so than his first, and goal of the season winner, in the 2011 FA Cup semi-final against Bolton Wanderers. 

However, the crux of my argument, which I’m not sure I won but I’m sticking stubbornly with it, was that if Walters did not get the break to play professional football, he’d be that guy playing Sunday league football. So would Rooney. You know that one that I mean. The one who’d turn up late; miss the warm up; be hung-over or still drunk from the night before; probably have the air of his cold kebab breakfast hanging over him; squeezing himself into the one-size-fits-all shirt with a beer belly hanging out the bottom; get unnaturally sweaty within five minutes of playing; wheezing around the pitch; and yet, despite all of that, still be one of the better players and have a significant role in the game. Think wonder goal to win it or an enraged induced leg-breaker of a lunging tackle. And you’d never know which way it’d go.

What is clear is that they’d play just for the love of the game. Just as they did in their professional careers given that they had the luck (and maybe some talent) to get and take their break in the game.