Lionel Messi and the unmistakable feeling of an end
First he sank to the ground, grimacing. The game continued for a few seconds, and then came the collective sobbing.
Lionel Messi was down. And Lionel Messi is not a player who goes down for nothing.
The playmaker and talisman for Argentina clutched his right ankle, having fallen unintentionally, with no clear kick to point to as the cause of the injury that he knew had ruined his night.
He took off his right shoe and stood up carefully. The physiotherapists asked him how he was doing, but they must have known. He shuffled to the sideline, each step a small stab in the Argentinians’ hearts. Then the board went up: Nicolas Gonzalez on, Messi off.
Messi walked slowly to the bench and threw his shoe on the floor. He sank into his chair and put his face in his hands. Leandro Paredes, his teammate, ran his hand through his hair but said nothing. What was there to say?
A second or two later, the camera turned back to Messi, zooming in on the most recognizable face in football. Humanity, even. And Messi, the stoic, could no longer contain his emotion.
The crowd chanted his name. Messi sobbed.
The tears were for the moment — Argentina needed him; they always do — but it was impossible to separate them from the larger context. Because wherever Messi goes in this extended career outro, there is always the unmistakable sense of an ending.
Messi is 37. He confirmed earlier this week that this would be his final edition of the competition. The mood music around the Argentina camp suggested that this could be his last major tournament, full stop. He will be 38 when the next World Cup kicks off in the United States, Mexico and Canada, and will be 39 during the tournament.
Those endless summer days spent watching Messi prance around the football fields of our souls? They may be numbered now.
Retiring is never an attractive prospect for any athlete. Athletes die twice, they say. Messi’s incredible longevity—and continued excellence—is an effective shield against retirement talk, but no one can run forever. At some point, everything you do becomes your last. Everything comes with a heavy finality.
Messi clearly seems to have an inkling of what awaits him on the other side of the great beyond. “I’m a little bit afraid that it’s all over,” he told ESPN Argentina earlier this year. “I try not to think about it. I try to enjoy it. I do that more now, because I’m aware that there’s not much time left.”
Here, on a stifling, charged night at Hard Rock Stadium, he surely didn’t expect to be denied a slice of that remaining balance. Sitting there on the bench, an ice pack on his swollen ankle and a yellow vest over his blue-and-white shirt, it was tempting to wonder what was going through Messi’s mind.
(Juan Mabromata/AFP via Getty Images)
Maybe, in that case, he simply became a fan. Maybe the vision of the team playing without him — a vision he’ll have to get used to in the decades to come — has twisted his already tangled innards into new, uncomfortable shapes.
After the match, Argentina coach Lionel Scaloni said Messi did not want to retire from football, but that his injury made any other option redundant.
“Leo has something that everyone should have,” Scaloni said. “He is the best in history and even with an ankle like that he doesn’t want to go down
“Not because he is selfish, but because he does not want to let his teammates down. He was born to be on the pitch.”
There was, at least, relief at the end. When Lautaro Martinez fired home the winning goal in Miami four minutes before midnight, it was telling that the largest group of players did not gather around the scorer. No, the Argentina players flocked to Messi, their shining example.
(Juan Mabromata/AFP via Getty Images)
“When we talk about players who have left a mark on the history of football, we try to extend their careers when we start to see the end,” his Inter Miami coach, Tata Martino, said recently. “I believe that Leo and his family are preparing for the moment when that end comes. It comes for everyone.”
It’s not over yet for Messi. He’ll continue playing in MLS once this injury heals, maybe even help Argentina get to the World Cup, but this was the final episode of Messi Does Tournaments and one more stop on the road to The End. The real end. The day this absurd, magical, ridiculous, good little sprite of a footballer jumps off into the past tense.
“I’m lucky to be able to do something that I’m passionate about,” Messi said in the Apple documentary about his American adventure. “I know that these are my last years and I know that I’m going to miss it terribly if I don’t have this, because no matter how many things I find to do, nothing will be like this.”
No more grand finals, potential. No more nights like this, raw and glorious for his nation. And so, long before the festivities, he wept. You could understand.
(Top photos: Juan Mabromata; Buda Mendez; Chandan Khanna/AFP via Getty Images; design: Ray Orr)
