last messi is the best messi

Today is Messi’s farewell match in Argentina shirt. Few weeks back, when the international retirement news came out, my reaction was that this might be the beginning of the end for me as football fan. There is a precedence to it. I stopped watching any form of cricket after Sachin retired. Slowly the interest died and ever since haven’t watched any match. Like many Malayalees, Argentina and Messi (and Maradona before) was a “vikaaram” (a sentiment or an emotion). That beautiful journey ends today.

As a kid, I used to play an entire imaginary world cup, all by myself. With a tennis ball sometimes. Making up rules as to what counts as a goal. One such world cup was played like this - I would kick the ball to the slanting tiled roof, one can’t predict how it will come down and when it comes down, hit the goal on the volley in one touch, two touch, three touch. I used to play group games, quarter finals, semis and finals and declare winner like this. Or play an entire tournament for hours in a small enclosure with three walls, hitting the ball in a particular sequence and keeping score and tables in my head. For such a kid, being Argentina, Maradona and then Messi fan is just natural course.

I had watched world cup in various settings – in the reception of a lodge where we stayed during final year “industrial project”, box TV in an apartment in the US, in an apartment where we just moved in and the first requirement was to somehow get a TV and cable connection since World Cup was right after we moved in, alone on a laptop wearing the blue and white replica Messi tshirt. There was a series of heartbreaks when they lost back to back finals. When the matches felt like literal battles. Walking into office next day after yet another final loss. When it felt like the man was just crowded out and silenced. When it felt like his team mates had let him down. When the baby faced Gotze scored that goal for Germany which stole yet another cup.

From there it turned around – to a period of happiness (at the end of anxious matches where they made everyone suffer through). Grandmas in Keralam used to just want Messi to “get that cup”. I remember the first match in 2022, I couldn’t watch since we had office that day, learning about the loss and feeling the dread. From there it was beautiful. Many goals and assists watched on repeat. Pure genius on display.

Why do we love him? He is pure natural talent, passionate, obsessed, competitive, artistic, instinctive, magical. Shy, humble. His devotion to his friends and family – who else will love Luis Suarez (whom I love as well – even though he is a pantomime villain, who has bitten people in strangest of circumstances, gotten sent off with a red card in a world cup for blocking a sure goal, but who wanted to move to Barcelona to be near his childhood sweetheart who looked out for this street rat). I don’t know if there will ever be another like him, who will be brilliant for such a long time. Reinventing his game as years go by. Giving memories for everyone till the very end of his international career, going out with a bang. Now some more time to savor in Inter Miami pink.

Peter Drury’s poetry/commentary in the 2022 world cup should have been the final word.

"He was beautiful. He was the point of difference. He has always been the point of difference. Unparalleled, and maybe today there will, of course, always be those who argue, always be those who debate. And the debate could rage on if you like. But as he falls in love with the object in the world that his heart most desired, it is hard to escape the supposition that he has rendered himself today, the greatest of all time."