Josip Ilicic: The Wizard Spearheading the Deadliest Trident in Europe

Have you ever sat out and watched an electrical storm unfold, in all its chaotic glory? Lightning bounces and dances across the sky, the wind whips into an intense frenzy, and thunder dictates the tempest's tempo, booming and crashing rhythmically.

While peering at this natural masterpiece from the safety of your bedroom window, you can't help but experience a feeling of helplessness, a sense of your minute importance on this planet, and an overwhelming awe.

That is the closest we might ever come to understanding the emotion of any defender tasked with stopping Josip Ilicic. A hurricane of organised pandemonium.

In terms of our own personal experiences on the pitch, Ilicic resembles that balding, middle-aged, stocky bloke who you leave unmarked in a five-a-side game - only for him to actually be an ex-pro, who runs you ragged for the next half an hour.

Not that the big Slovenian forward is overweight, but in all honesty, he isn't your archetypal forward. Standing six foot two inches tall, and built like a wardrobe, Ilicic is far from your standard, dainty playmaker.

Sloping around the pitch, occasionally breaking into a jog (which could be matched for pace by a brisk walk), the Atalanta star paints a portrait of a disinterested, grumpy old man, being forced to go for his daily exercise, when he'd much rather stay at home and see what's on the box.

This is merely the calm, before the storm.

In a split second, Ilicic comes alive, and with a power and force equal to that of mother nature herself, he blows away everything in his path, with therapeutic devastation. And as with any act of God, its impact is far from ordinary.

The 32-year-old is famed for his brutal, yet mesmerising blows. And just like planet earth, his chaos and destruction has peaked in 2020.

The 2019/20 season has really been the breakout campaign for Ilicic on the European stage. For those who are regular Serie A viewers, however, his match-winning performances are nothing new. In fact, he's been at the top of his game for a couple of years now.

It is his incredible chemistry with fellow forwards Alejandro Gomez and Duvan Zapata that has catapulted Atalanta into the Champions League quarter-finals, and the plucky underdogs have subsequently won the hearts of every neutral in the world.

Their swashbuckling, gung-ho style has taken Italy by storm this year, and had it not been for some initial teething problems in balancing domestic and European duties, la Dea would certainly be a genuine title contender. But without a trophy to show for the efforts thus year, they're still absolutely brilliant.

So much of their swagger comes from this man.

The beauty of Ilicic stems from his unpredictability, and the general sensation that no one on that pitch could replicate these moments of audaciousness. And when you are fortunate enough to witness one of these pearls of magic in real time, you found yourself thinking 'it could only be him'.

Because who else would spot a goalkeeper off his line from his own half, and plant a majestic wedge over the shot-stopper and into the net? Who else would even possess the vision to dream up that alternative?

Ilicic plays the game in his mind, processing all the hypothetical options ahead of him, before opting for the most complicated and outrageous choice of the lot. And luckily enough, the big forward has the technical proficiency to connect his brain and feet.

Those big feet are turbocharged with rip-roaring potency, but also a delicacy and attention to detail that fellow artist Picasso would have shown towards his pride and joy paintings. The Atalanta man floats around the pitch, gliding beyond tackles and shocking opponents with the frightening ease at which he can brush his way out of trouble.

He can score, assist, pre-assist, or simply suffocate his adversary into submission with his relentless torture. A goalscorer, maker, and creater. And the numbers back up his hunger for end product.

A four-goal haul in a Champions League tie. One hat-trick. One hat-trick of assists. A goal struck from the halfway line. Three braces. And a highlight reel from this season alone, which most strikers would be satisfied with over an entire career.

His left peg is to die for, and you could apply every cringey cliché to his capabilities with the ball at his feet. He can caress, crash or carve just about anything with his favoured foot, leaving defenders helpless in trying to combat the deadly forward.

And how can a man so gangly, so uneasy on the eye, be so silky and sexy when carrying the ball on one of his trademark, mazy dribbles? Ilicic defies nature.

Yep, he's got a wand on the end of his leg, but the spells are cast between his ears.

At 32 years of age, Ilicic should be well beyond his peak as a creative midfielder, but his experience has only heightened his senses for the right pass, or waiting for the right split-second to cut inside and unleash a thunderbolt.

The good news for football is, he shows no signs of slowing down. A man who relies on the sharpness of his mind rather than speed or physical fitness, Ilicic could continue jinking down a touchline and turning full-backs inside out well into his 50s.

He won't, of course. But we should all enjoy him while we can.

Because like any storm, eventually, his time will pass, normality will resume, and we'll be left telling stories of just how spectacular and thrilling it was to live through such a rare and indescribable event.