Shunsuke Nakamura

He gracefully glides his lean frame into the flight path of the ball, and waits calmly as it comes to sleep in his vacuum chest. He springs nimbly to one side, and the ball reverse-soars slowly to the turf. Then, he threads a delicate pass through an undergrowth of legs to his confounded teammate.

The myth about Asian players is that they are bloody boring. They blight the beautiful game with a sterile, scientific style of speed, space and rectilinear ranging. They’re as blind as bats to the skilled art of fraudulent feints, sweetly curled lobs and lofts, stupefying stepovers and the haunting, humiliating chip.

Nakamura has reached the summit of the two hundred and eighty four Munros of Scottish football. He had one dream season deliciously filled with flawless free kicks, unbelievable ghost passes and gorgeous goals in thick-coming fancies.

Aiden McGeady is surrounded by three defenders. He swiftly backheels to Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink who is cruelly scythed to the ground. Nakamura floats on the scene. He casually casts the ball onto the pitch, and saunters three steps backwards. He takes no pernickety aim. With neither showy twist nor frilly turn, he shunts forward and lightly strikes the ball. It’s slow, it turns some speed, it flies, floats and dips into the net agape. Goalkeeper amazed! :-)