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{ Shades of grey are rife in football and nothing is ever black and white, especially not where transfers are concerned.Even by the standards of Fernando Torres, the speed of my move out of Liverpool 10 years ago takes some beating.

One Monday afternoon, I signed my name to a five-year contract at Anfield, committing myself to the club until 2005.

By Thursday, I'd signed for Leeds United. That sounds as ridiculous to me now as it must have sounded to Liverpool's supporters back then but
I can't think of a better example of how quickly a player's outlook and circumstances can change.

A few weeks ago, Torres made a public pledge to see out his contract at Anfield, apparently killing talk of a move stone-dead.

I can, therefore, understand why comments like that stick in the throat when he submits a transfer request before January is out.

At the risk of defending what many people would say is indefensible, I have to admit that I sympathise with him.

At the start of last month, Torres probably thought he was going to be a Liverpool player for the foreseeable future. He was probably fairly happy about that too.

Then Chelsea came calling, offering serious money, the London lifestyle, Champions League football and trophies – all the things that Liverpool cannot promise him at present – and the mind starts to wonder.
It gets you thinking more carefully about your situation.

Should he, as a £50m striker, be playing in the Europa League and messing about halfway down the Premier League? Or should he aspire to better than that?

As an ex-player, there's only one answer. It's asking a lot for one of the finest players in the world to settle for second best. That's not how lads like Torres work.

In different circumstances, I took the same attitude when I completed my transfer to Leeds. As they read the papers, Liverpool's fans must have thought "he's well out of order, signing a new deal and then moving on" and that's how it appeared in print.

What they didn't know was that I'd been told to prepare myself for a season on the bench – something which, to be perfectly honest, was unacceptable.

At the time, I was in the finest form of my career. I also thought I was well worth a place in Liverpool's starting line-up. The word in my ear was that the number three jersey would be mine.

On the morning when I signed my new deal – lucrative by the standards of the day – I told myself that there'd be no looking back.

So what happened? A couple of days later, I'm sitting in a bar with a few of my friends when my phone rings. It's a message to tell me that Liverpool have signed Christian Ziege and I ought not to expect a starting place for the rest of the season.

I was shocked. As soon as I got my head around it, I knew immediately that it was time to go. In three days, I'd gone from being on top of the world to the thick of the transfer market.

It was truly a blessing that Leeds United made so much effort to sign me and did so despite the fact that I was carrying an injury. I went from one outstanding club to another.

It turned out to be a defining stage of my days as a footballer, a period I took great pride in.

Yet in 2004, it all happened again – I offered to take a pay cut and the board at Leeds said no. Suddenly, and against my wishes, I was looking for another employer.

That's the odd thing about my career – I was pushed into the two most significant transfers I made. Of course I was privileged to sign on elsewhere and grateful for the opportunities that came my way but I've never tried to pretend that I left Liverpool because I wanted to.

Leeds were everything I looked for in a club and I wanted to join them when the offer came. But that's not the same thing by any stretch.

Looking back, if I'd been asked on that Monday morning what the future held, I'd have told the press in all honesty that I wanted to retire as a Liverpool player. By the time Thursday arrived and I was completing my medical with Leeds, I'd have sounded like an idiot. In general, the comments you make are completely honest in the moments when you're making them. And even if you're bluffing, it takes a brave (or extremely stupid) footballer to admit that you're angling for a move elsewhere.

Not so long ago, people were writing off Roman Abramovich as a spent force in English football – someone whose passion for Chelsea was on the slide.

An investment of £50m in one of the world's most complete strikers is a massive shot in the arm. It makes Chelsea seriously attractive again and it's the height of flattery to be told that you're worth the British transfer record plus £20m.

In reality, there's no decision to be taken.

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Labels: Evening, Leeds, Matteo, Second, Torres, United, Yorkshire