“Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.” Better still, bring a Sevilla shirt and put his name on the back. Ivan Rakitic’s transfer to Sevilla from Barcelona was foretold with a reading from the bible, quoted by the club: Luke 15:22, the parable of the prodigal son. After six years away, the man they called sevillano has returned home and, as the father declares in the next verse of the new testament, this calls for celebration.
In Seville, that is. In Barcelona, the reaction was more like relief, some sort of resolution finally reached: at least this time they had done the right thing. A little late perhaps and with little reward, but they had. A year after Barcelona tried to force Rakitic out, using him to try to prise Neymar out of Paris and prompting him to note that he is “not a sack of potatoes”, they said farewell. Some did so more fondly than others but, take a step back, and they must see him for what he is: a man who served them so well, a central figure in the team that won it all before the end came.
Back then, Rakitic had been valued at €65m, they said; a year on, when everything must go, he has departed for €1.5m plus add-ons up to €9m, although it won’t reach that: €3m of those are virtually guaranteed and €6m is realistically as much as they can expect. It should probably have happened sooner – for him, as for so many others, 2019-2020 ultimately felt like a season too far – but Barcelona make another small saving on salary, a veteran moved on. Sevilla and Rakitic have what they wanted, a kind of giddy joy greeting the news.
Bring the fattened cow and kill it, the father said to his servants, and there was music and dancing. Read on, mind you, and it’s a little curious Sevilla should apply the parable of the prodigal son – although it is used regularly in Spain for any player welcomed home. The son has wasted his father’s wealth and lived a lost life, accused by his angry, jealous and far more conscientious brother of having “squandered property with prostitutes”. He only returns, repentant, because he is going hungry.
Rakitic, on the other hand, made the most of his time at Barcelona, since departing in 2014. “An incredible professional” according to Ernesto Valverde, there was no waste nor hint of decline until that sad, final season. From the middle of Barcelona’s midfield, he won the treble. There were three doubles, four leagues and four cups. There were 310 games and 36 goals, not that it was about them. Not even when he got the winner against Real Madrid or the opener in the 2015 Champions League final.
At Sevilla he had been a deep or creative midfielder, depending on their needs, better than the rest in both positions. At Barcelona he said if he had to run 5,000 or 10,000 meters for Lionel Messi, Neymar and Luis Suárez that’s what he would do. And so, he did. He wasn’t Xavi, whose place he had to take and at a place where footballing prejudice is powerful, but he was often all things to all teammates: narrow when they needed him to be, open when they wanted it, further forward or back as required. “One hundred per cent reliable,” Valverde called him.
Even those who didn’t much admire him, appreciated him. But it was also easy to slip into something more comfortable. No Barcelona DNA, they said, making him an easy target. Blame was often unevenly, relentlessly apportioned and something he shared with Valverde and Suárez. At a club accused of losing its religion here was a player who was profane and unprotected, unlike others. One whose level, it is true, was slipping with the rest, everything slowing over the past year or so. When he went to Seville’s April fair with his family the day after the collapse at Anfield in 2019, it didn’t help.
Barcelona tried to move him on but couldn’t. Unhappy, he spoke out, which didn’t help much. His role remained limited, if not as limited as critics demanded. There was a reason for that: coaches trusted him. A scapegoat of sorts, his presence was seen by some as symbolic of the club’s failure to address its fundamental flaws, to renew. After he came on to change the game and score the winner against Athletic in June, his first goal in 49 games, Quique Setién said he had “done a master’s”. And yet the feeling lingered that it had gone too far.
Now, he has gone too, back to where he believes he belongs. No one laments him leaving, really: it had to happen. And for him there is happiness. The first night Rakitic spent in Seville, he fell in love. He met Raquel then, ensuring he would not back out on the deal to play at the Pizjuán. She is his wife now, the mother of children he sings to sleep with the Sevilla anthem. Rakitic tells the story that when her grandfather was in hospital, he would not let doctors remove the Sevilla watch he wore. And so the most Spanish of cities became Rakitic’s home.
Briefly, Rakitic had a bar in the city. He also had the armband when the team won the Europa League – the first foreign club captain since Diego Maradona. He said he would go to Barcelona only if it suited them too. Rakitic was replaced by Éver Banega; now he replaces Banega. The money was good and they were happy for their mutual successes. He won the Champions League, they won the Europa League. He remained in contact with the sporting director, Monchi, discussing players like they were old old mates. Conversations between them became a bit more serious this summer, crystallising in his return.
Unlike the prodigal son, he hadn’t turned his back even if he left. Nor had they. The first time Rakitic faced Sevilla, supporters broke from singing their anthem to sing his name. A huge banner read: “This will always be your home. Thank you, Captain”. At the end, he approached the north end to give them his shirt; he gave them his boots and socks too, heading back with them still chanting his name. Barcelona flew to Catalonia that night; he stayed in Seville.
When Sevilla won the Europa League last month, Rakitic celebrated by filming himself leaping into a swimming pool. Now, Sevilla’s fans celebrate his return as effusively, excitement overflowing. That dive didn’t go down well in Barcelona but by then he was more out than in. He was ready to go and knew where he wanted to go, expressed in that splash landing. In an interview in the spring, he said he hoped to go to “a place where I am wanted, respected and needed and where my family and I feel good”.
A place like home, where there was music and dancing and the finest robes: a Sevilla shirt with Rakitic’s name on again.
(The Guardian)
