Come on, Gazza!

Reading about Paul Gascoigne being sectioned for three months under the Mental Health Act is distressful for any football fan, but for those of us who saw him play it is positively heartbreaking. His sheer commitment and joie de vivre on the pitch was a joy to behold. He was in my opinion, apart from being one of the greats at the game, Mister Entertainment himself.
When he played for Lazio here in Rome, he was adored, his antics (footballing and non) talked about in the bars and cafés all week. If he was fouled, Paul thought perhaps the other player wanted his shirt so he’d take it off and hand it over, much to the amusement of the fans, or if he was the culprit, he’d simply apologize and then rush to shake the ref’s hand. He’d make faces at the camera. He brought laughter to the stadium.

When he left Lazio to return to England, I remember the barman of a supporters’ café wearing a black armband, his eyes welling with tears as he spoke of life without his beloved ‘Gazza’.
Now the lad from Newcastle is in serious trouble, his main problem possibly being the lack of competition in his life, the charge of adrenalin he felt every time he pulled on his football shirt and ran out onto the pitch to the roar of the crowds.
Don’t tell me Gazza has nothing left to offer the game. Why can’t one of the Premier League’s top teams make him a coach at their youth academies, have him pass on his exquisite skills to the next generation? Surely he could glean vicarious excitement and his need of competition by watching his charges race up and down the field, the ball at their feet, the goal in sight.

There are obscene amounts of money in the sport today (its players paid outrageous salaries); let's put some of it to a decent use.  How about a different kind of profit?  Like a feel-good profit.
Gazza gave football so much; it’s time football gave some of it back.