Balotelli Disappears to Milan

And then he was gone.

Like a magician who leaves the stage in a puff of smoke, Mario Balotelli packed his bags and departed Manchester City.

Roberto Mancini finally gave up on the striker he hand-picked to lead his City revolution, his fingers burnt following the 22-year-old’s training ground fracases, late night cavorting and threatened employment tribunal.

And that’s before his on-pitch indiscretions and blatant lack of form.

Balotelli was never the magician his compatriot manager envisaged he would be for City and a return of just three goals in 15 appearances so far this season meant the striker had become more scourge than sorcerer. The unpredictable Balotelli was embarrassing a club that seeks a place in football’s aristocracy. He was the prince that would not behave.

He’ll head back to the familiar surroundings of Milan, but this time in red and black, and join fellow City rebel Robinho at the Rosseneri as they hope to overhaul neighbours Inter into a Champions League spot.  

If Carlos Tevez was City’s marquee signing (literally), Balotelli will go down as a symbol of excess since City's new-found oleaginous wealth.

His record of 20 league strikes in 53 appearances has merit but it's not his goals nor the his role in the massacre of  Manchester United last season.  

Instead it’s bulbous headwear, bibs and Bentleys that will be etched into his Premier League epitaph.

But English football will miss Mario.

Trawl through Twitter on any match day and you see vitriolic bile flung in all directions. Football has become so serious to some fans it seems we’ve forgotten the best, most intrinsic part: fun.

On and off-pitch racism, crippling ticket prices and the Hillsborough inquiry have rightly dominated front and back pages this season leaving it to Mario the maverick to reminded us of football’s futility. Tales of generosity at the petrol forecourt, an apparent interest in the UK justice system and of course the fabled blowing up of his own bathroom brought a smirk to fans' faces if not his manager's and peers'. 

Of course he was indulged by City's hierarchy. But lets not begrudge the man his grotesque fortune for without it he would not have given us his marvelous expenditure. Afterall, why have an iron when you could equally have quad bikes?

The flip side is that Balotelli was no angel. Just ask Scott Parker’s head or Alex Song’s leg. Ask even his City teammates, at whom he snapped into. Balotelli’s farcical episodes were tempered by an inveterate anger and propensity to explode.

Mancini’s decision to offload his protégé was tinged with a morsel of regret (a penny for his thoughts stood on the touchline at Loftus Road on Tuesday), especially as he believes Balotelli can still become a world beater, that he can still pull a rabbit out of his hat.