The great paradox that will unfairly define Lionel Messi
by Jen Evelyn | Posted on Monday, July 14th, 2014
Lionel Messi’s Argentina came closer to a World Cup title on Sunday than they have been in the last 24 years. The only minutes they were behind in the tournament were the seven minutes after Mario Götze’s goal at extra time, in the final. The sight of Messi walking past the World Cup trophy with an empty glare in his eyes will stay in the collective memory of the world of football, and paradoxically, unfairly, define him.
Messi didn’t win on Sunday, and the feel remains that he can’t ever really win anyway. In the World Cup, he didn’t fight against any player of his time, not against any team. He fought against a myth.
That myth is the great paradox that could end up defining Messi. That myth is called Diego Maradona. With a win in the World Cup, many would have been ready to put Messi to where Maradona is – to the cloud of immortality that time has sweetened.
But the reality is that Messi should be there with or without a World Cup. The reason he isn’t, is because the myth he was supposed to match was not of this World.
When you think of Maradona, you think of his goal against England. You think of the images of him lifting the World Cup. Even if you never lived in his era, that’s what the world around you has fed you. The idea of a perfect player who won on his own. The idea of the mythical God-figure who never failed. A bit of a rough-edged footballing rockstar who was forgiven for all his flaws because he was and is Maradona.
That’s because when we think of Maradona, or Pelé for the matter, we see the icing on the cake, not the entire cake itself. We see the documentaries and highlight-reels of their greatest matches, their greatest goals. We don’t see their failures. Their matches aren’t on the Internet, maybe except for the greatest ones. The historical ones. From Messi, we see everything.
In the last years it’s been easier to get bored of Messi’s brilliance because it’s fed to us in larger doses. It’s been fed to us every weekend, and after that, we’ve been able to go back for more, see it all again on the web. With no more than a click.
The bad matches are within that click too. The bad matches that Diego Maradona and Pelé played, too, but that the legend doesn’t remember. How many, in the modern day, can say that they saw Maradona as much as they see Messi now? Every weekend, with his club, with his country, throughout the year? Would the legend be different if Maradona lived in Messi’s era? Would the collective memory trace of his career be different, if it contained every single match? Was he ever – as great as his peak was – ever as consistently mind-blowing as Messi at his best has been?
And that’s the great paradox of Messi that he will never overcome. We see more of him. We see all of him. All of his goals, all of his solo-goals, all of his countless moments of genius. From Barcelona, and yes, from the international matches too. Because of that, he should be the most celebrated footballer of our time. Those moments – one could argue – put him on par with the corresponding moments of Maradona. I would go as far as saying that Messi has more of those moments than Maradona.
But still, in the day and age when we see every single match Messi plays, when we can celebrate his moments of heavenly brilliance over and over again, the collective will judge him by the seven games he played in Brazil. More radically, by the final he played in Rio De Janeiro. The final he lost.
Messi is in a place that none of us can really imagine. The media is on his skin like the defender that man-marks him and kicks him a bit too hard, just to kick him again because the man refuses to fall down. Perhaps the greatest and most radical example of the myth is that Messi has faced enormous criticism because he doesn’t run as much as the rest on the pitch. Maradona, on the other hand, used cocaine, and at the end of his career, had quite a belly to show for a wild lifestyle. That only made his legend stronger.
That’s why Messi is the most criticized player that has ever touched a football. It doesn’t matter what he does, there’s always a but. Even when he lead his team to the final, there was the “yeah, but”. “He didn’t score in the knockout matches”. As if the collective was already preparing an excuse in case he happened to win. There would still have been a “yeah, but”.
And when you look at what Messi has achieved whilst being the most criticized player in the world, it’s mind-boggling. Six La Ligas, three Champions Leagues, two Club World Cups, Olympic Gold, Under-20 World Cup, four Ballons d’Or, three European Golden Shoes. Add to that the goalscoring records, the amount of assists, and he’s achieved more than anyone, except for the one thing that will forever define him: the World Cup.
The seven games in the midst of hundreds will define him.
When he hangs up his boots one day, or maybe only decades later, we’ll really understand. We’ll live decades, realizing that no one quite matches what he did. Then we’ll look at the Youtube clips and documentaries made of him, and say “goodness, he was amazing. He scored more than anyone. He won more than anyone.” And maybe then the collective will realize that they won’t see a greater player in their lifetime.
For what he has done in an era that is organized, largely defensive and more tactical than perhaps in the decades before, Messi is quite possibly the greatest player of all times. But because he failed to replicate a myth, he might never get the place in history that he deserves. And that’s simply unfair, but shouldn’t stop us from celebrating his greatness today.
By Jen Evelyn – Follow @JenFCB
Great text, and so true.
IKR
