Wolves TV commentator Mikey Burrows reflects on the impact Diogo Jota left on Molineux following the tragic passing of the former Old Gold forward and his brother Andre Silva.
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The painful reality of life is that it’s often only in death a person’s legacy becomes apparent. The outpouring of grief and emotion, the tender heartfelt recollections of shared moments.
Footballers are some of the few who get to experience anything remotely close – a full stadium rising as one to your accomplishment and singing your name, an adoring fanbase greeting your every move with a smile.
We all dream of making a lasting impact. Diogo Jota did that and more.
In the age of the glamourous game, he was refreshingly normal. From day one he was hugely impressive as a person. Ruben Neves had arrived weeks earlier speaking very little English. Diogo was fluent.
He once told me he had learnt the language in preparation for a future move to England – no doubt the Premier League had been the intention, rather than the Championship – but it didn’t matter, he was here to achieve his aims and if that meant dragging us with him, so be it.
Wolves had seen lots of foreign imports arrive in the 12 months of Fosun to that point, but nothing like Ruben and Diogo. Humble, hard-working, hugely talented. One cruised round the pitch almost floating, the other covered every blade of grass.
It’s why so many took such a liking to him. Jota played the game like a fan. His energy and drive, his tenacity and spirit, he was the boy from Porto who wore the shirt like he was from Penn.
In truth I adored him. How could you not? As a player he delivered in the big moments; from that finish against Villa, the Man United quarter final, those European hat tricks. Raul Jimenez often took the headlines, but none of that glorious three years happens without Diogo.
His love for the game was infectious, even in computerised form. When Covid hit and we were all locked up at home, he found his release in games of online FIFA.
Wolves Esports would set him up with matches against professional gamers and he’d thrash them. When the club organised an online charity event to replace the Villa derby – Jota vs Ezri Konsa – those of us involved were added to a WhatsApp group for planning and communication during the event. You’d never have known he was a professional footballer. He was just our mate wanting to show us replays of his goals and hear my commentary over the top.
His departure hurt. Liverpool got themselves a bargain but even watching him win trophies and score important goals in red, there was always a sense of pride.
Of that wonderful Wolves of 2017 to 2020 he was the one who went on to better things. At 28, he hadn’t even peaked as a player. Yet as tragic as his loss is to the game, it is the devastating effect on his and brother Andre’s family and friends that endures and breaks your heart as a human being.
Parents without sons, sons (and daughter) without their parent.
The Wolves family, the community of souls from across the world drawn together under that iconic badge, all feel his loss greatly. When the new season arrives Molineux will make its tribute, I’m sure.
Diogo Jose Teixeira da Silva, aka ‘Diogo J.’ One of the greatest to represent us of the modern era. A highlight reel for the ages, he left us more memories than we could have ever hoped for.
The boy who became a man in gold and black, who just loved football in all its forms, now never to know just how many people in football and beyond loved him.
