Ligue 1: Yoann Gourcuff "Mystery" a Long Way from Being Solved

All in all, it was a rather sinister-looking front page by French sports daily L'Equipe (they call the front page "La une" in France), I'd decided, as my caffeine-laced eyes ran over a picture of Olympique Lyonnais attacking midfielder Yoann Gourcuff, under which ran the caption "Le Mystere Gourcuff" (The Gourcuff Mystery).

This was back in February, 2011, when Gourcuff was still embroiled in what was to become one of his most trying seasons as a footballer.

His poor run of form with Lyon notwithstanding, alarm bells had been raised in earnest when former AC Milan legend Paolo Maldini had conducted a November, 2010 interview  with L'Equipe in which he'd said that when Gourcuff was with the Rossoneri (2006-2008), he'd hardly worked to integrate himself into the group, forgoing language classes, showing up late to training, etc.

The former Italian international delivered his knockout punch in his appraisal of Gourcuff's play. When the former Stade Rennais starlet did play with the senior team, Maldini said, he didn't show the dedication and commitment required of a preeminent talent.

Gourcuff is a renowned introvert, so much so that his father, Christian—head coach of Ligue 1 side FC Lorient, in Yoann's native region of Bretagne—has often found it necessary to rush to his son's defense when the media threatens to run rampant in its criticism. Christian calls his son's comportment "la difference qui dérange," (Those who are different upset others).

He is at his best when playing—the grassy terrain a home away from home, a welcome insulator from the harsh glare of the spotlight. It's little wonder Lyon appealed to him as a destination: his two best friends are Jeremy Toulalan and Hugo Lloris, both of whom were with Lyon a season ago (Toulalan has since left for Malaga in Spain), and are also French internationals.

He is quiet, yes, and that is always a dangerous thing in team sports, where bravado often seems ubiquitous—almost unnervingly so.

Yet when he is inspired, there are few in the world who can match him in terms of technical quality. It's little wonder he was one of the foremost applicants for the role of future Zidane, so closely did the two resemble each other.

That's the kicker, though. When.

I've often felt that true genius, while offering some of the most unforgettable gests we're ever likely to see on a pitch, is not entirely conducive to the daily rigors of professional football. Genius is renowned for its erratic nature—when "on form," so to speak, the creative power of a Van Gogh, or an Einstein, or a George Best is without equal.

It's little wonder that Claude Puel, Gourcuff's former coach at Lyon (who's since been decommissioned), once said: "J'ai envie d'avoir des joueurs adultes, qui ne cherchent aucun faux-fuyants quand ils passent à travers. La bonne attitude, ce n'est pas de faire des déclarations à droite ou à gauche." (I want my players to be adults, who won't hide behind excuses when they hit rough patches. The right attitude, that's to assume responsibility."

Not exactly comforting words, but this is a profession, and not one founded upon soothing injured feelings.

As one of my former teachers once said, in referencing the literary geniuses of yesteryear, it's impossible to maintain that formidable standard of productivity for extended periods of time. With the passage of time comes fatigue, and fatigue breeds melancholy. Many geniuses are renowned for their severe bouts with depression.

It was difficult to watch a televised appearance of Toulalan and Gourcuff on Canal Football Club last spring. Gourcuff was asked by the show's panel to discuss his recent troubles on the pitch, where injuries and a near-cataclysmic loss of form had seen his place in the French national team the subject of debate.

It didn't help matters, of course, that many of his teammates with Les Bleus (Franck Ribery the foremost example) seemed upset by his presence within the squad, and actively looked to exclude him from the group.

In response to the question, Gourcuff said something fascinating. It was so stripped down and candid, such a welcome departure from the ho-hum norm of athletic interviewing.

The France No. 8 said he had "lost the confidence" that had once seen him walk on water throughout the latter stages of 2008 and into 2009, so sublime were his performances.

He thought too much on the pitch, he reckoned, instead of allowing his instincts to take over. He wanted to "rediscover" the joy he'd once felt playing.

It made for hard viewing, watching someone so talented look so forlorn. Toulalan, sitting beside him, always appeared on the brink of cutting his friend off from revealing too much. But he let him speak.

During his exceptional year with Bordeaux in 2008-09, when he was named Ligue 1 player of the year on the way to leading his side to an historic double, Gourcuff was the toast of French football.

The prodigal son had returned home from Milan, and looked ready to usher in a new generation of internationals after the incredibly disappointing performance in Euro 2008, when France had managed only a lowly point before bowing out in the group stages.

He had found a mentor in manager Laurent Blanc, who had taken the embattled Gourcuff on loan from Milan.

With Blanc, Gourcuff flourished. He was back home, and he was enjoying his football. One saw just how effective he could be when in a situation he found to his liking.

Yet when Blanc's long-rumored move to the French national team was confirmed at the end of the 2009-10 season, the wheels came off.

A high followed by a terrible low—and a low made that much worse because the high was so spectacular. As noted American author Jonathan Franzen writes, "the personality susceptible to the dream of limitless freedom is a personality also prone, should the dream ever sour, to misanthropy and rage." (Freedom)

The tears Gourcuff shed at the final press conference with Blanc weren't forced. He seemed to realize, even then, that a very good thing had come to its end.

It came as little surprise, then, that Gourcuff wasted little time in getting away from Bordeaux, a home that had ceased to provide comfort.

He moved to Lyon in the summer of 2010—his €22 million deal shattering the previous Ligue 1 transfer record, (which has since been shattered once more by Javier Pastore's €42 million move to PSG) where he could once again be in the company of the a fore-mentioned people he knew well.

The travails of last season may be in the past, but Gourcuff has yet to exorcise his demons. He has yet to feature for Lyon in 2011-12, as a nasty prolonged bout with an ankle injury has seen him reduced to the role of spectator after undergoing surgery in the summer.

When he does come back, he will have to integrate new Lyon coach Remi Garde's 4-4-2 system, a noted change from Puel's customary 4-3-3. Maxime Gonalons and Kim Kallstrom are currently entrenched as the central holding midfielders in Garde's system.

Both are playing sublime football at present, and it's not certain that Gourcuff will instantaneously supplant either upon his return.

With Bordeaux, Gourcuff thrived in his central attacking role, free to roam about the attacking third and use his precision and excellent shooting technique with abandon. When he's at his best, he gets a multitude of touches on the ball much in the way Wesley Sneijder, another player who thrives as a tresquartista, does with Inter Milan and Holland.

He has played a more withdrawn role with Lyon, but Garde's new system could slot in Gourcuff as the top of a midfielding diamond. It would be the kind of comfort the former Bordeaux talisman hasn't known in a year.

And it could lead to a rebirth. At least for awhile.