*this article orignally featured in Diego Magazine Issue #2
People often ask why I support St Mirren. Some reasons include that vertical stripes are slimming, and my Dad was driving that way on Saturdays anyway. But the main reason I love St Mirren, to put it simply, is that it’s good fun. Isn’t it? That’s essentially what it comes down to. It’s fun. In among the ups and downs, the promotions and relegations exist moments of pure unadulterated “ha, look at that!”. That’s what it’s about for me.
One such moment was afforded to St Mirren in February 2015 when we were selected to play against New York City FC in the MLS side’s inaugural game at Manchester’s Etihad Campus, home of their City Football Group sibling Manchester City. NYCFC boasted Spanish World Cup Winner David Villa in their starting line-up, and all eyes were on him that night.
The game itself was drab, as NYCFC ran out 2-0 winners. The result, however, doesn’t matter. That’s not why we’re here. We’re here for the moment when St Mirren captain (and current manager) Jim Goodwin nutmegged David Villa.
Oh man, it was glorious.
Now I should point out that David Villa put the ball through Jim Goodwin’s legs first. Of course he did. The David Villas of the world have been nutmegging the Jim Goodwins of it since the dawn of history. This time though, this act of humiliation was not going to go unpunished. Not while blood raged through the slight-but-imposing Waterford frame of James Michael Goodwin.
Jim Goodwin was a very good technical footballer on his day - his awareness and passing ability often buried under his hardman reputation. At the same time though, when you’d see him gearing to compete in a 50/50 tackle, mothers would start talking about sons in misty-eyed past tense. Jim Goodwin was to “letting him know you’re there” what Sir Isaac Newton was to apple head tennis.
Midway through the second period in Manchester. Goodwin picks the ball up inside his own half and is immediately closed down by Villa. Actually no, that’s too forensic a term for how a player like David Villa moved around a football pitch. He was graceful. He would glide. He was sexy. So… Goodwin picks the ball up inside his own half, and Villa sex glides towards him. Goodwin lifts his head and ruminates “oh look, it’s World Cup winner David Villa – one of the most decorated footballers of his generation. I care not for this man and his trinkets, for I am Jim Goodwin. I use splintered pieces of past opponent’s shinbones as garnish and I will not be bested by this boastful pretender”. He composes himself for a beat and…
Wait…
He’s passed the ball through Villa’s legs.
Jim Goodwin just nutmegged David Villa.
The entirety of Paisley Google Translates “He’s not just fucking done that has he?!?” to accurately describe the look on David Villas face.
Jim Goodwin has just nutmegged David Villa and is currently running away with the widest smile, pumping his fist with the same “yass” energy of teen who has just cycled past you at the bus stop and shouted “haircut”.
A scene as beautiful as it was perplexing.
To be honest I don’t remember much about the game after that. I don’t need to. It’s immaterial. That moment is all that matters to me.
That year St Mirren were relegated from the Scottish Premiership. David Villa went on to absolutely smash the MLS and is NYCFC’s record goalscorer at the time of writing. That is how that moment is framed in the “official” version of history. We know differently though, don’t we?
All of those titles, all of his honours, they have a little asterisk beside them. There is a space inside David Villa’s head containing memories of all those trophies - The World Cup, The European Cup, League titles, The Champions League, and countless personal accolades. Next to all those honours, sits Little Jimmy Goodwin. Jimmy Goodwin reminiscing about the time he ripped a hole right through the middle of Villa’s soul and put a ball right through his very being.
Seriously, YouTube it. It’s so class.
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