So that's it for Nana Attakora at Toronto FC, huh?
Being a passionate person brings with it a certain tendency towards the maudlin, so hopefully you'll indulge me for a few paragraphs here. We all knew him as Nana -- perhaps because of familiarity and affection, perhaps because it is just fun to say. His most memorable episode as a member of TFC may have been when he dropped the "Gyan" from his last name, mostly because no one could figure out why it happened.
But the trade of Nana (see, you can't not do it, right?) is more than simply the moving of an underused central defender. Nana represented -- and still represents -- all of the promise, and all of the tumult, that has defined Toronto FC's four and a half years of on-field existence.
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Attakora (alright, you can force yourself not to do it) was, as many fans know, the final remaining member of the roster from TFC's inaugural season in 2007. He's also a local kid, who many see as an "academy graduate" even though he joined the club before the TFC Academy existed. He was on a TFC roster alongside such north-of-the-border luminaries as Adam Braz, Marco Reda and, yes, Andrea Lombardo in that first season.
The team, as was expected, filled toilet upon toilet with its performances in that initial campaign, but the excitement of having top-level pro soccer back in Toronto couldn't be suppressed. Most of the Canadian-quota contingent found themselves shipped out of town soon after, but Attakora stuck around. There was promise. There was a time when some local pundits (one of whose last names may rhyme with "is blotto") dreamed that Attakora could follow in Maurice Edu's footsteps in being sold off to a European side.
We dreamed big of the potential for not only the current men's national team, but what Attakora's ascension could mean for the civic profile of Toronto FC. A local kid, brought up through the local team, then shipped off to some high-profile squad where he proudly represents Canada on both a club and national-team level.
None of that has come to fruition, of course. Attakora has developed into a solid MLS centre-back, though he hasn't found his way into the national team setup. Of course, he's still fairly young, and could very well develop into a national team player. That would be terrific, actually -- almost as terrific as if he were a young, raw striker who showed signs of promise that could bloom into a contributor to Canada. But I digress.
No one knows where Attakora's career will go from here, on either a club or country level. Some have suggested, quite feasibly, that the Canadian connection between him and Earthquakes coach Frank Yallop will mean good things. Here's hoping that that's true.
But -- and here's where the maudlin part kicks in -- Nana was the last, lingering link to a time of unfettered excitement in Toronto about the team and about what it could represent. In the intervening years, we've seen a revolving door of coaches, unbridled hatred toward the general manager, open revolts from supporters groups, dwindling attendance and, oh yeah, losses upon losses upon losses. Nana's continuing presence was a small, regular reminder of what was -- or rather, what could have been.
He was never going to single-handedly right the ship, of course. And the trades that took place on Thursday could very well help TFC improve its win-loss record, draw more fans and get back on the optimistic track under Aron Winter and company.
But one thing's for sure: The promise of the Nana Attakora era in Toronto has been diminishing for years, to the point of near oblivion. With Nana now gone, the team must start delivering on some of it. Soon.