Predrag Radosavljević. Preki, for short.
A player whose path bore little resemblance to the typical professional journey, yet who ended up decorated more than many with far straighter roads.
He played twice for Red Star Belgrade before being spotted at an indoor tournament and whisked away to the wonderfully named Tacoma Stars. There, he bent the indoor game to his will: three-time First Team All-Star, MISL MVP, the sort of talent people insisted belonged outdoors, maybe even in a USA shirt if the paperwork ever aligned. Two standout seasons with the St. Louis Storm brought him a trial at Everton and a £100,000 move.
Fifty-three appearances followed for the Toffees. A curious signing: slight, slow, mercurial. The odd wonder goal, lots of wandering anonymity. But always a flicker. He returned indoors again before a spell at Portsmouth and, at 32, a transfer to the Kansas City Wizards that looked like the start of a gentle slide into retirement.
But that isn’t what happened. Preki bloomed. Five straight MLS All-Star nods. A USA debut at 33. An MLS MVP at 34 that surprised no one who had been watching him. He became the player people sought out, a cult figure in a country still figuring out the shape and feel of the sport.
He was simply too gifted for the league around him. An MLS Lee Trundle. His Premier League stint no longer mattered. He had found his stage in America, and he helped drag the game forward, into more stadiums and more living rooms. In 2003, at 40, he won a second MVP, the oldest ever and the first to do it twice.
Preki became a small embodiment of the American Dream. Born in Yugoslavia, sharpened in middle America, rising to heights nobody predicted yet everyone accepted once they watched him play. He made footballers, young and old, believe there was still room in the game for them. Preki made people dream.
Predrag Radosavljević. One of one.
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