There is a type of secret shame to loving something that the world seems to abhor. Love is supposed to be unconditional, and so the thoughts and beliefs of others should not have any implication on how you see the object of your affection. Should not, but in reality we're often left keeping our enjoyments secret for fear of looking like the fool. For example: liking a movie that is worldly regarded as a terrible film, enjoying Nickelback or having a fetish that most would consider as odd. Love is personal, and that's all it should be, but at the same time it's extremely comforting when others can understand and celebrate it as well.

Watching Adel Taarabt, the self-proclaimed 'Moroccan Mario Balotelli', play (and play very well) for AC Milan has given me that satisfaction as I watch the surprised football world scramble for the words to describe and praise his recent resurrection. It's that "oh shit!" moment when you watch your friends hear a song from a band that you've long loved and they've ignored; the moment you know that they're feeling like fools for remaining in the dark all that time.

The best part of Taarabt's rebirth is how excited he seems to have been about the whole experience. If the Allegri era at Milan taught us anything, it's that despair is awaking every weekend and dreading kickoff, considering exiling yourself from civilized society as you watch the formless, shapeless mass of red-and-black shirts attempt to play football. They passed like footballers, took shots like footballers, sometimes even tackled and pressed like footballers but you were sure that what you were watching was some off-brand replica of the game and team you love.

The Clarence Seedorf era however, though short, has promised much more. Taarabt in particular is playing like a man on a mission, like a man who has finally found love after years of doubt. After the 3-1 loss against Napoli on his debut, he said, "it is a dream to be at Milan and scoring on my debut is fantastic. I hope it is just the beginning of a great adventure." As if those words weren't sweet enough, the charming trickster then captured any wayward hearts by saying, "it was my most important goal, because I scored it with the Rossoneri jersey."

The best moment of Taarabt's so-far-short time at the San Siro came in the 1-0 loss in the Champion's League match against Atletico Madrid. On the right wing, facing two defenders, the Moroccan magician performed a magical trick that made me cheer as if he'd scored a 30 yard goal against Inter. It's hard to describe the feeling of watching the dribble, it's a combination of suspense, speechless exhaustion and disbelief in a five second span. You're left feeling like you've been with the woman of your dreams and that somehow it's too surreal to be true.

That's the beauty of watching Taarabt play. Half of the time you're saying "no way" under your breath as he mesmerizes with raw technique. During the other half, you're wondering why he doesn't become the player that he has the potential to be. That seems to be changing now that he's at Milan with Clarence Seedorf. I mention Seedorf because of his continued emphasis on the players enjoying themselves on the pitch, his assertions that the players must rediscover their love for the game regardless of the results. These beliefs seem to have their biggest impact on Taarabt and the also-resurgent Adil Rami.

That difference, between a team just playing a game and a team enjoying their game, has brought new life to the red and black of Milano. In the losses to Napoli and Atletico Madrid, Milan never shied away from the match. They continuously pushed, tried through passes and flicks, dribbled past players and generally gave everything to win . But for superhuman goalkeeping and plain bad luck, they would have gotten more out of those games. No man has been more evidence of Milan's improved play than Taarabt. Although he's been rightfully accused of not giving his all in games in the past and switching off mentally in games, that all seems to have changed with his arrival in Italy. In the games in which he's featured, he's consistently been the most dangerous player on the field, scoring, defending, passing efficiently. And better, the infectious nature of his happiness is spreading throughout the team.

Granted, this might just be the honeymoon period. The true test of character will come when his tricks no longer seem to work and his goals become blocked shots or crack off the base of the post and away rather than in, but for a man and a team that has been through so much the last few years, this happiness is long overdue. Taarabt, speaking on his failed transfer to PSG in 2011, said, "I suffered from this transfer failure, I suffered a lot. In my head, I was in Paris, a big club, I was going to play the Champions League. And then you leave again at QPR ... I spent a year of misery. It was hard. But I'm glad to have rebounded to AC Milan."

I am enjoying his renaissance as much as I've enjoyed anything in world football, and even more so the looks and expressions of surprise of those who -- rightly -- doubted whether this transfer could work. From being discarded at QPR to the fringes of Fulham to bringing joy to suffering fans at Milan is an odd path. Sometimes a change of scenery and faith from the manager is all that's needed for a player to grasp his fate in his hands and fulfill his potential. I'm fully awaiting many more years of breathless exhaustion after watching him bamboozle defenders -- and I'm looking forward to the smile that comes after it as well.