Robinho was all but signed and sealed to Chelsea before Manchester City's new ownership swooped in with a shock move. Alex Livesey/Getty Images

By Sid Lowe, Special to SI.com, World Soccer

No one expected Robinho to sign for Manchester City, least of all Robinho himself. The Brazilian scored on his debut against Chelsea at Eastlands, kissing the badge on his shirt in delight as he dashed across the pitch, but if he had got his way he would have been playing for the other side that afternoon.

The forward was wearing the sky blue of a club that had won nothing in 30 years, not the darker blue of a club that won two of the last four Premier League titles and was just a slippery penalty spot from the European Cup last May.

One of the summer's longest-running soap operas wasn't supposed to end this way, with a twist that wasn't in the script. "I wasn't even thinking about City," Robinho admitted.

On the penultimate day of the transfer window, he called a press conference to tell the media that his mind was made up: He was going to Chelsea. It was one last turn of the screw, the final stage in a plan to force an exit from Real Madrid and pitch up at Stamford Bridge. He got it only half right; the plan was not as cunning as Robinho and agent Wágner Ribeiro believed.

With time running out on the final day, Ribeiro was preparing to catch a flight to London. He was unaware of the takeover of City by the Abu Dhabi United Group and its interest in signing his client. The phone rang. It was Real Madrid, summoning him to the Bernabéu. Ribeiro hung up and punched the air. The plan had come together perfectly. The pressure had paid off. Madrid had finally given in; it had accepted Chelsea's bid. Or maybe Chelsea had made one last push and met Madrid's $59 million asking price. Either way, it was the perfect outcome.

Ribeiro never imagined for a minute that Madrid might have called his bluff -- with a little help from City. The agent phoned Robinho. "I told him then that he was a Chelsea player," he admitted. "We started celebrating." When Ribeiro arrived at the Bernabéu, journalists asked him about City. Frankly, he thought they were slightly mad. He was about to find out that there was method in their madness.

The agent strolled into the Bernabéu offices with just over an hour left before the transfer window shut. Madrid's director general, José Ángel Sánchez, was waiting for him to tell him that Madrid had accepted not Chelsea's offer but City's, which was far higher.

"[Chelsea chief executive] Peter Kenyon rang me desperately to ask what was going on," Ribeiro said. "But I was certain that Chelsea wouldn't agree to [$59 million], so I said yes to City. I don't think Chelsea managed it very well: They waited until the last minute and it turned out badly for them."

Burning bridges

City's interest was, Ribeiro added, "a wonderful surprise." Wonderful wasn't exactly the word Robinho would have used. If Chelsea hadn't handled it well, Ribeiro had handled it worse. Robinho could have been forgiven for wondering if burning his bridges was such a good idea after all, if he and Ribeiro had overplayed their hand. Having rebelled against Real, he could no longer stay. But then nor, in truth, did he want to, even if that meant going to City.

As Ribeiro put it: "Sánchez asked if Robinho would play for Manchester City. I told him Robinho would play for anyone but Real Madrid. Robinho would rather be walking the streets selling things than stay at Real Madrid."

That said it all about Robinho's state of mind, helping to explain what appears a curious change of club. "Robinho got angry and upset," remarked Jorge Valdano, the former Real Madrid coach, "and when your heart replaces your head you think out of your arse." Madrid president Ramón Calderón said: "Robinho was literally crying. He had psychological problems; we had to let him go."

Robinho denied shedding tears but there is little doubt that he was unhappy at Madrid. This, after all, is the player who spent most of last season leaving out of a back window at the club's Valdebebas training complex in order to avoid press and fans.

Robinho wasn't the central figure he wanted to be at Madrid. He was usually played on the left and rarely given the freedom on which he thrives. He also felt isolated and alone off the pitch, let down by the club. When sporting director Predrag Mijatovic claimed that the dressing room smelled of alcohol before morning training, the fingers pointed his way. The Brazilian thought he had been an easy target, a convenient scapegoat thrown to the lions.

He felt unprotected and poorly paid. "The New Pelé" earned less than 12 members of the squad; he asked for a contract renewal but was ignored while others got theirs. He also knew Madrid wanted to sell him to fund the prospective Cristiano Ronaldo deal, and suspected Calderón wanted shot because he had been signed by presidential predecessor Florentino Pérez. Only when the Ronaldo deal fell through did Madrid even call Robinho to negotiate. But by then he had been in contact with new Chelsea boss Luiz Felipe Scolari and his mind was made.

Madrid's smear campaign during the final weeks of the transfer window made Robinho even more determined to depart. Now he has turned his back on Scolari and run into the arms of Mark Hughes. The City manager would be well advised to hold him tight: Robinho is a player that needs to feel loved.

The case against the Brazilian is that he let Madrid down, rather than the other way round. Robinho had arrived as the New Pelé and been dazzlingly brilliant on his debut in Cádiz but never consistently lived up to his opening night. Not once has he been among the league's top 10 players according to one set of weekly ratings, nor has his average season rating been over six out of 10 in Don Balón magazine.

Nothing doing

He was more a case of the New Denílson than the New Pelé, a byword for expensive failure and pointless tricks. His trademark stepover -- or bicycle, as the Spanish have it -- didn't help. Playing on "nothing" and "swim" being the same word, nada, the joke described Robinho as a triathlete because corre, bici, y nada -- he ran, he got on his bike and then ... nothing.

They had a point, but to say Robinho did nothing is unfair. He is skillful and quick, and there have been flashes of genius, runs of sparkling form and hugely significant contributions. Arguably, Robinho was the key player in Madrid's last two title successes and the only player that gave it even fleeting hope the season before. He was superb during the title run-in in 2006-07, and he was easily Madrid's best player -- possibly the league's -- during the club's fine 10-match run between last September and December when it put itself on course to retain the championship.

The question is, which Robinho has City signed -- La Liga's best footballer or its worst triathlete?

This article originally appeared in the October 2008 issue of World Soccer magazine. To subscribe, click here.