Javier Hernandez is a footballer without many peers in the modern game.
A Central American star plying his trade in Europe, he is one of the few to make it at the likes of Real Madrid and Manchester United, playing in some of the biggest games in European club football. That’s perhaps why he’s revered in his home land, and perhaps why he has nearly eight times as many followers on Twitter as his new club, West Ham United. He is a hero.
But that modern portrait of a superstar footballer is only part of the image Hernandez beams to the world. In many ways, he’s a player out of time.
He is not a full-throttle attacker who hassles and harries defenders into making a mistake, and so not a player you’d expect Jurgen Klopp or Pep Guardiola to be enamoured with. Nor is he a beastly specimen of a player, one Jose Mourinho might be interested in. In terms of stature and even style of play, you get the feeling that Hernandez would have looked more natural in the little-and-large days of two-men strike forces.
Even his name is out of time. Nicknames are not a phenomenon modern football seems to have a lot of time for. These days, referring to Lionel Messi as ‘The Flea’ or to David Beckham as ‘Golden Balls’ – something that feels retro even now – seems hopelessly naff. At the very best, it’s used as a sarcastic reference. Javier ‘Chicharito’ Hernandez, The Little Pea, is an exception to the rule. Indeed, it’s not just a nickname in some ways – referring to him as Chicharito rather than Hernandez is pretty much an unquestioned done thing, or at least an equally popular way of referring to him. It’s a tragedy football has lost nicknames like that.
But somehow, the Mexican seems to make it all work with a modern twist. He is unique, and yet he pulls parts of football’s glorious past and marries them with its glittery present. When you think about it, it’s stunning that millions of social media users follow a man with a nickname that could have been given to a 1970s poacher. Indeed, when you think about it, Chicharito could well have passed for a 1970s poacher on the pitch, too.
In some ways, Hernandez has only two parts to his game: movement and goals. And the second is only possible because of the first. As players like that become rarer and rarer, perhaps that’s why Hernandez should be thought of as more and more valuable. And it’s why West Ham may well have pulled off the deal of the summer in nabbing him from Bayer Leverkusen, taking a Champions League quality striker whilst Champions League teams buy attackers for double and triple the price.
And it might just be Hernandez’s Champions League highlight – maybe his defining moment – which shows just how such a throwback of a player is so valuable in the modern game.
In 2015, when Real Madrid were partnered with their city rivals Atletico – as they have been for each of the last four years – it was Chicharito who broke the fabled Diego Simeone defence down. And he didn’t do it with style or or verve, he did it with movement. Or, more accurately, he did it with a distinct lack of it. Because sometimes you only need to stand still to make the greatest impact.
The first leg at the Calderon had finished 0-0, and the second leg in the Bernabeu looked set to end the same way, even after Arda Turan was sent off for a second bookable offence with just 15 minutes left to play. By the time Cristiano Ronaldo cut in from the right hand-side, and played a one-two with a teammate before bursting into the box, there were only two minutes left on the clock.
Real were the reigning champions, having beaten Atletico after extra time in the final the previous year. But such is the celebrity and the power of Ronaldo that, even in a game of that magnitude, all eyes were drawn to the Portuguese legend as he attempted to take his team by the scruff of the neck and drag them into another Champions League semi-final.
But those eyes were in the wrong place. And, most importantly, so were those of Jose Maria Gimenez. The youngster had been on the pitch just three minutes, after coming on to replace Tiago in an attempt to see out the 90 minutes and get to extra time. You could forgive a bit of ball-watching in such a situation, but this proved to be vital.
As Ronaldo burst into the box, Gimenez drifted to defend the Portuguese’s run, but the man was supposed to be marking – Hernandez – barely moved at all, taking just one step backwards onto the penalty spot, finding himself in just enough space to alert Ronaldo to the possibility of squaring the ball rather than shooting himself.
Ronaldo, slipping, falling, and facing the wrong direction had no alternative, and poked the ball into Chicharito’s path, and the Mexican – himself falling backwards – cooly slotted the ball between the despairing lunges of both the goalkeeper and defender beside him.
It’s arguably the most important goal of the Mexican’s career, to knock one of the tournament’s best sides out of the competition at the quarter final stage and taking Real Madrid into another Champions League semi with a goal in the final minutes of the game.
It was also a trademark Hernandez goal. A poacher’s goal, but one made through sheer understanding of how to find space in the penalty area. It’s a handy knack for a striker. It means finishing doesn’t need to be a special quality because it makes the finishes easier.
For a club like West Ham, whose only prolific striker in recent memory is the hopelessly injured Andy Carroll, to sign Hernandez might just be the deal of the summer.