‘And like that, he’s gone.’

He’s gone. He made the cover of Time magazine and he’s gone. He scored that goal with his shoulder, and he’s gone. He fought with the manager, and he’s gone. He made that pass, in that game, when we needed him most. And he’s gone.

There is a sadness about your team selling a player you like, a kind of longing that things could always remain the way they were. I remember the first time I felt it. Why were City selling Niall Quinn? As far as I could see all our goals were scored within three touches of it bouncing off his head (I was right about that too). With Mario I was convinced it was all going to go right. I love the redemptive storyline in sport. I followed Andrew Flintoff overcoming his demons to have one last fling at the Aussies. I want my heroes to fight, to prove everyone wrong. I was almost certain that Mario was about to do that. He was about to shower us with goals and brilliance and a large, raised middle finger to the doubters but, well, he’s off. And with him goes about two tabloid pages a week and the chance of seeing that renaissance first hand.

I’m always fretting about the collective skillset of the club shrinking, even though in recent years it has bloomed exponentially but who, I mean seriously now, who is going to take the penalties? Pretty much Mario’s only consistent quality was his penalty taking. Elano was good at pens, Tevez scuffs them hard and Milner is, crucially, English. But Mario is freakishly brilliant. He claims he’s never missed one, even in training. Watching him, it’s believable. My brain is racking for anyone better but no one springs up; I remember Shearer missing at least one, Ronaldo shanked them and even the icy cool Pirlo has fluffed them this season.

So, in a tradition I’m somewhat proud of at City, I hope he goes on to do well. I hope he finds the peace he couldn’t seem to find at Eastlands. He has it all to do and in Italy he carries the hopes of the national side in the absence of another world-class striker. But I hope we see him again. In the latter stages of the Champion’s League would be nice. Until then, ‘Why Always Me?’ Well, because there’s something special there. Something I’m going to miss a great deal. Ti Amo Balo.

(Written by Chris Warrington)