City life will suit greedy Emmanuel Adebayor

Arsene Wenger brought him to London as a raw, gangly, little-known striker from the French league and, through diligence and careful nurturing, liberated him having first protected him.

In his early games, when Adebayor looked as if he could barely trap a ball (he's the new Kanu but without the talent, we said), Wenger helped the striker settle by playing him mostly in games away from Emirates Stadium.

Wenger's reward was for Adebayor to spend most of last summer agitating for a transfer. More money, of course, was what he wanted, much more. He never left but the fans never forgave him either: last season, when he wasn't injured, he played with all the conviction of a man who knew he was loathed.

The Nigeria-born Togo striker is the epitome of the modern-day mercenary footballer: loyal only to himself, always on the look-out for the next move, saying he loves the club and fans while keeping a keen eye on the exit gate.

The new Manchester City — owned in effect as it is by the oil-blessed autocracy Abu Dhabi — are the perfect club for him. If, as expected, he goes there he will take his place in a dressing room alongside such loveable and gracious figures as Craig Bellamy, Micah Richards and Robinho.

"It's not about the money," Mark Hughes says each time he buys the transient loyalty of another player. This is cant: Hughes will discover, if he does not already know, that money might buy you Adebayor but it can't buy you love or respect.