We Need to Talk About Joe Cole

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports UK.

Just for a second, don't let the realities of the past few years disrupt the image – that pure, slightly shaggy-haired portrait of Joe Cole in a Chelsea shirt, doing verifiable jobs up and down the land.

Cast your mind back to the mid-2000s: who do you see? Nobby Solano, obviously, and Arjen 'Iron' Robben sporting hair. But look closer, beyond your pre-YouTube compilation Heskeys and your Morten Gamst Pedersens, and you see Joe Cole.

Joe Cole scampering up and down the wing. Joe Cole doing tricks no other English player would dare, lest they get lambasted for trying to be skilful. It was Cole who scored that goal at the World Cup in 2006 – wildly celebrating like a soft-spoken geez on the lash who'd 'let himself get a bit worked up'. It was always him. He was the answer to the England fans' perennial question, "who do we have on the left?" We had Joe. And don't forget that this was back during the so-called 'golden generation'.

But now he's playing League One football at Coventry City.

And with that, we come to the crux: what happened to Joe Cole? Or rather, what happened to football for this once bright, chirpy, cheeky-chappy from Camden – formerly labelled a Brazilian by Pele himself – to land at the Ricoh Arena, and all the riches of the have-a-go-hero territory of the third tier?

Well, injuries for one. Cole's career was littered with niggles and knees and cruciate ligament damage. Serious leg injuries generally tend to take the explosive speed out of any player. But they can be less impactful depending on where they occur in the leg, what the nature of the injury is, and which player they strike. Michael Owen, for example, wasn't the same after a succession of hamstring injuries, the notorious culprit known for zapping so many players' speed. Those not relying on pace can adapt their game or simply carry on unscathed, un-maimed. Cole was a forward-thinking player; less pace would always check his potency.

Age is another. Cole is 34, surprisingly old for one who seems permanently 23, but then Gerrard is 35, and Lampard 37. At 34 both Stevie and Frank were still playing (and still important) at Liverpool and Chelsea respectively. Cole has been out in the proverbial cold for five or six years now. What's surprising is that, given the ability he had in his prime, he wasn't able to mature and age into a player that remained relevant.

Is it because he didn't have the sort of gravitas and reciprocated love from a club willing to shepherd him into palliative care that Stevie and Frank enjoyed? Is it because all-action centre-mids can slow and drop deeper over time and still fulfil a modern position, while attacking-mids simply can't, or at least struggle to adapt skillset-wise in an age where speed is king? It's probably a bit of everything. Joe Cole, remember, was the player no manager quite knew where or how to play. He was the WAG generation's Glenn Hoddle.

Despite having a wealth of experience and a permanent elegance that we all know is there – no one strikes a ball like he did back in 2006 without ability – he faded badly on the pitch. He has now receded into the memory banks, only popping up on pre-2010 editions of Sky Sport's Premier League Years.

Whatever it may be – and remember that injuries are a bastard; for every Ryan Giggs, there's a Dean Ashton – at least he's still giving it a right old go. Coventry fans reliably inform me he's still class, his presence in the West Midlands still surreal, the touch of old still very much there.

The fact that he's opted to play football, as opposed to collecting pay cheques while sat on a Premier League bench, says a lot about the man and where he's from. Having been adopted at a young age by a working-class family without a burning vision for their son to become a football player – they were supportive nonetheless – Cole's story remains one of determination, as the drive and skill came from within.

He's a throwback to the type of lad who just wants to play; forget about the Thai orgies and the shit designer shoes. In an age where players bleed contracts dry before moving on, there's certainly something to be said about Joe, Camden's own boy, and England's forgotten gem.

@nick_thompsonog