Footballers’ love stories don’t tend to resound like a celebration of love, but instead often emerge as a whirlwind of celebrity and splits. But love always finds a way, and on this commercially special day where the world adores affection, Chubby Alonso rehashes a few of his favourite tales…

A Love So Wrong…
Where there is love, there will be hurt; where there is hurt, there is often hate. Footballers can be a jealous, hateful bunch. Think John Terry and Wayne Bridge and the handshake snub. Now think Omer Toprak, Hakan Calhanoglu and Gokhan Tore with a gun. The trio are Turkish national teammates but the Leverkusen duo Toprak and Calhanoglu no longer turn up, despite the latter being one of the Bundesliga’s leading lights over the past two seasons. When reports that a friend of Omer Toprak was having an affair with Gokhan Tore’s ex-girlfriend surfaced, the Besiktas winger went batshit crazy, grabbed his gun-slinging wingman, stormed into Toprak and Calhanoglu’s room and had a pistol in their faces. In this case love would tear them apart: by persistently including Gokhan Tore in his national squad, coach Fatih Terim rather controversially alienated Tore’s victims, at once showing what a firm advocate of the brocode he was, and inviting more critics than necessary to his already floundering tenure over a tiring Turkish team.

Gokhan Tore’s violent display of affection stands proudly on par with the confusing, caustic love affair that created the Wanda Derby. Wanda Nara is an Argentinian model but is much more famous for being the mother of Maxi Lopez‘ three kids, and passionate lover of Mauro Icardi. Maxi Lopez and Mauro Icardi were of course compatriots and close friends while at Sampdoria a mere two seasons ago and it was through her ex-husband Maxi that Wanda even became acquainted with her now-husband Mauro. So when Icardi was transferred to Inter and Wanda ended things with Maxi Lopez to be a full-time Icardi, all eyes were on his return to Sampdoria. Many predicted a Terry-esque snub and got it, but those in the Stadio Luigi Ferraris willing for fiery vengeance found themselves leaving with their tails between their legs: Maxi Lopez stepped up for a penalty, got the crowd to their feet, and then saw it saved by Handanovic, sending them slumping back. Inter romped forwards and scored four, Icardi got his goal in front of the Samp Ultras and cupped his ears towards them, indignant and imperious. Bad boys win, again.

…A Love So Right
On the pitch, Luis Suarez is the proverbial Jekyll and Hyde: a terribly gifted footballer with some palpably major character flaws. Still, there remains a third face to him when the kit comes howling off; Suarez the Barcelona forward escapes into Suarez the man, the husband and the modern day Romeo.

His own rags to riches story is probably my personal favourite because it displays such drive and determination for excellence that is motivated not by fame, fortune or even sheer football fun, but by a simple teenage love. For Suarez was, as one can imagine, a talented but temperamental youth and his development at Nacional was held back by his attitude to the profession. All of that changed when a 15 year old Suarez met a 12 year old Sofia, who would set him right in school, the academy, and then for life.

This romance and more was beautifully chronicled by Ana Laura Lissardy, but suffice to know that in between those magic moments and a megabucks transfer to Barcelona was a trying time when Sofia had to move to Spain. Suarez had to follow, and knew that football was his only passport out of Uruguay, out of poverty. For long years he worked and equally long he desired from the loving demon within him: “If I want something, I really, really want that something. And if I don’t get it, I get mad.” It is a madness that football fans know, but seldom understand. The story seems pretty clear though: boy loves girl, does anything to be with her; everything else – the titles, the trials and the teeth – is mere white noise.

A Love So Strong…
“[David Beckham] fell in love with Victoria…that changed everything” were the words of one Sir Alex Ferguson, at once a criticism and commendation for football’s most celebrated relationship. It was a love so strong that allegedly took him away from a marvellously grounded lifestyle and into a special Spice world; away from his homeboys at Manchester and into the shiny lights of Madrid, Los Angeles, Milan and Paris. Perhaps Beckham’s talent had arguably already put him on a collision course with such irresistible celebrity, but Ferguson is a man who remains convinced that his relationship with Posh was an infidelity that made him lose sight of his first love, and got him that literal boot.

Ferguson would certainly consider Gary Neville to be at the opposite end of the spectrum: a model professional who hates celebrity (and Liverpool) and loves football to no end – his one commercial foray going only as far as the opening of a blatantly football-themed hotel and cafe. In Javier Zanetti, Internazionale have their very own Gary, and in Zanetti, I think we can safely say we have found a rare specimen of someone who truly loves his profession more than anything else.

Zanetti’s love for the game is in many ways – as pronounced by James Horncastle in his excellent article – superhuman. One would think he was married to football; his wife Paula surely must: fresh from exchanging wedding rings and while waiting for their guests to arrive Zanetti whipped out his jogging shoes and went for a run. Once more he did that while at the airport with his wife, again waiting for friends touch down on a delayed flight. It is little wonder that Javier Zanetti played until he was 40 before retiring to take up the mantle of the club’s vice-President last year, where it’s a different sort of running he’ll be doing, but with the same heroic love for the game.

…A Love So Bright
It remains to be said that the greatest love anyone could know is still God’s love for man – a love that no number of pointing at the skies or t-shirt declarations will ever match. But some try anyway, because they have plenty to be grateful for; so much more so for the spoilt modern day footballer.

Kaka is probably the most famous and illustrious of the Christian lot. No doubt he loves because God first loved, and he knows that it is by the grace of God that he’s even half the man he is today, a fraction of the legend he is in Milan, or a football player, at all. Aged eighteen, a freak accident down a waterslide left him with a broken vertebrae and a real risk of paralysis but it was a mere few weeks before he was back on the pitch – a miraculous recovery he has no hesitation to attribute to God’s unfailing love and unstoppable plan.

Kaka is not alone in his eagerness to show his gratitude to God: Daniel Sturridge celebrated his goal against Italy at the World Cup with the proclamation: “I love you, Jesus. I will praise your name forever”; Fabrice Muamba was convinced that his specific prayer for protection before that fateful game against Tottenham in 2012 had brought him back to life, long after his heart had stopped for a full 78 minutes. Even Falcao in his earlier days was known to terrorise teammates not for his goalscoring exploits in training, but for his insistence on bringing them to church on Sundays. His steadfast faith is overseeing his slow return from the horrific injury that kept him out of the World Cup, and he appropriately marked his recovery with this tasteful tweet (translated), showing that even the most muscular of beings can be very much tenderly at heart:

“Thank you God for consoling me and encouraging me during these six months. Thank you Lore for having put up with me during these 193 days when I was unbearable. Thank you little daughter because with your smile you made me forget my sadness.”

Football festers an admittedly cruel world where fame and fortune are fulfilling and flying the flag of faith is frowned. It makes it all the more touching and outstanding to see football players at the highest levels reciprocating God’s love the way they do – it’s almost as though they play for an audience of one, and love for no one else: “What do I have to be scared about?” David Luiz asks. “I have God in my heart.”