Cole Palmer is the closest thing we have to Lionel Messi… while Jack Grealish is reduced to being responsible back at Manchester City, writes OLIVER HOLT

It wasn’t the Panenka penalty that was the best thing about Cole Palmer’s performance against Spurs on Sunday, although it was lush and audacious and so deftly and subtly struck that it still soared through the air as Fraser Forster climbed back to the top . his feet on one side of the Spurs goal to watch the ball complete its ethereal journey.

Yes, it was a moment, executed when the result was still in the balance, that felt like a celebration of expression and joy, but the highlight of Palmer’s role at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium would have to be the sequence he delivered in the 73rd minute of left the match. Chelsea’s 4-3 victory started when Pedro Neto slid a simple pass towards him.

Palmer stood deep in the Spurs half with his back to goal and as he turned Micky van de Ven came towards him as if to close him down. Then Van de Ven thought better of it, as any sensible defender would, and made way for Destiny Udogie, who took over Palmer’s duties instead.

Palmer processed the possibilities. He pushed the ball back as if to move it with his backhand, throwing Udogie off balance for a split second and in that split second Palmer reversed the direction of the ball, pushed it past the Spurs left back and headed towards the corner. flag.

It looked like that would be a dead end and Palmer doesn’t like dead ends, so he turned sharply back to his own target and then quickly cut inside, leaving Udogie treading water and floundering in his wake.

It was reminiscent of Lionel Messi’s devastating strike that mauled Josko Gvardiol in Argentina’s quarter-final victory over Croatia.

It doesn’t make Palmer the next Messi, but it was still great to see. It still made the soul sing to see someone with that kind of ambition and that kind of ability and that kind of will to do something that doesn’t conform. Even a whiff of Messi is a taste of honey.

Now that Udogie was fired, Van de Ven had to intervene. It didn’t go particularly well. Palmer spun him one way and then the other as he slalomed his way to the Spurs box. Pape Sarr wondered if he wanted to tackle him, but thought better of it. Yves Bissouma came by to try to help. That made it Palmer against four defenders.

Palmer had drawn so many players to him that when his attempt to play Nicolas Jackson on goal was deflected by Van de Ven’s outstretched boot, it was no surprise that the ball fell to a teammate in space. Enzo Fernandez did the rest with a good left foot finish and Chelsea were ahead and the match was won.

He is a special player. He is the closest thing to Messi in the English game. His elusiveness makes him somewhat reminiscent of Dennis Bergkamp. Perhaps Michael Laudrup is a better comparison than both. Palmer glides effortlessly and elegantly past players like Laudrup did.

But like all special players, he is unlike anyone who has come before. He makes his own style. And perhaps it is the scale of his ambition that draws us to him, his refusal to be confined by the straitjacket of the modern English game.

We do not live in an era of individualism in football. We live in an age of systems, where discipline is king and the maverick is on the brink of extinction and great players like Jack Grealish are reduced to responsible players.

Pep Guardiola, City’s manager, is a genius, but if he had directed Rebel Without a Cause he would have made sure Jim Stark was home at nine every night and not playing ‘chicken’ next to the Griffith Observatory. .

At the Etihad, Grealish is an upstanding citizen first and an artist second. Fun is something Premier League players last had about 15 years ago.

Guardiola’s City teams are beautiful to watch, but it is Guardiola’s beauty we are looking at, not that of his players. It is a beauty he has created, a systemic beauty, a spinning machine, like all the parts of a powerful motorcycle engine.

Palmer has the courage and will to exist outside the machine. That’s probably why he wanted to leave City and why Guardiola let him go. Perhaps it was Guardiola’s biggest mistake. Maybe he just realized he couldn’t bend Palmer to his will.

Palmer’s talent has survived coaching. It hasn’t been knocked out of him. It is not homogenized. It is to the great credit of Chelsea coach Enzo Maresca that he gives Palmer the platform to flourish and it is to Palmer’s credit that he seizes his opportunity.

He plays with insolence, mischief, carelessness and languor, an enchanting mix. He is like a child on the playground, who still plays for fun, who is not exhausted by pressure and expectation. He is the great treasure of our game and we are fortunate to be able to see him at a time when his talent is blossoming.

Hojlund’s party

He’s only done it a few times, but I’m already finding Rasmus Hoijlund’s Gladiator-inspired thumbs-up-thumbs-down celebration quite annoying.

After all, he has only scored twice in the league for Manchester United this season. He’s not exactly lethal in front of goal.

He also plays for the biggest club in the country and is one of the reasons why they are languishing at 13th in the table.

If I were him, I’d stop reacting to the occasional goal as if I had a record like Alan Shearer’s and concentrate on scoring more often. Otherwise, he might one day find himself in Ruben Amorim’s office, staring at a downward-facing number.

My SPOTY vote…

I’m not really a fan of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year in its current form, but if I were inclined to vote I wouldn’t have to think twice about it.

My nod would go to Joe Root, who scored a career-best 262 in Multan in October, overtaking Sir Alastair Cook to become England’s leading run-scorer in Test cricket.

The idea that a cricketer who may go on to become the most prolific batsman the world has ever known and who is as decent and well-rounded as you would want to meet has never been in the top three of the awards is difficult to understand. understand.