History never gets tired of Messi

Messi, the Greatest of All Time: From Being Written Off to Another Miracle

Lionel Andrés Messi Cuccittini has always lived on the fine line between downfall and redemption, retreat and triumph, sporting death and rebirth. Even this time, when it seemed like it was all over, this incomparable champion was not finished. The "Wonder Wall," the white English wall, had already begun singing victory songs when his match truly started. The match of the greatest footballer of all time. Two assists, the second one mesmerizing, with his right foot, not even his preferred one, and his Argentina pulled off one of the most extraordinary comebacks ever. The farewell is postponed until Sunday. For the final. The third World Cup final of his extraordinary career. At 39 years old. Nothing like this has ever been seen. One of the greatest sporting achievements of all time.

Here in Atlanta, everything ends with Messi wrapped in a collective embrace. His younger teammates (which means everyone) thank him, cry on his shoulder, while even he, in the end, becomes emotional. Like a true gentleman, he walks over to console the English players, embraces Harry Kane and Jordan Pickford, shakes hands with the others, and then heads to celebrate beneath the stands packed with Argentina's sky-blue-and-white supporters.

It had not started well. Lionel Scaloni initially left out Messi's closest friend in the national team, Rodrigo De Paul, the same player who had said in Qatar, "I'd die for him just to see him win the World Cup." Perhaps Scaloni got it wrong, because he later brought De Paul on for the comeback. What the brilliant Argentine coach, with six great-grandparents from Italy's Marche region, certainly gets wrong is saying that this is just another football match.

The Argentine fans drown out "God Save the King" with whistles. Messi and his teammates sing their own anthem at the top of their lungs to overpower the English supporters. His greeting with the opposing captain, Harry Kane, is cold, just a brief embrace, completely different from the warm hug Leo will give him after the final whistle.

Let's rewind his performance. At first, he is restrained, almost rigid. His first complaint comes just three minutes in, when the referee refuses to award him a foul. The English fans cheer after 19 minutes when he misplaces a pass, only for the Argentine supporters to erupt just 30 seconds later as he attempts a brilliant chest assist inside the penalty area.

Time seems to stand still when Messi begins one of his trademark dribbles through a crowd of defenders, who can only stop him by bringing him down.

The tension of this match, regardless of what Scaloni may say, inevitably becomes a clash between the national teams of the only two countries in the Western world to have fought a war against each other in modern times. As the Argentine fans sing both *Muchachos* and *La cuarta estrella*, they recall and reaffirm their claim of sovereignty over the Falkland Islands.

Messi did not score two goals as Maradona did at the Azteca in 1986. There was no "Hand of God," nor the dribble of the century. Instead, there were a few misplaced passes, including one that led to Lisandro Martínez receiving a yellow card, forcing him to make way for the veteran Nicolás Otamendi. Messi also lost possession to Anderson, but moments later beat him, drew a foul, and earned his opponent a yellow card.

England's goal does not silence the *hinchas*. On the contrary, it only fuels them even more. And something ignites in Leo Messi's mind and feet as well. He loses the ball but wins it back from the ground with his short, incredibly quick legs. He withstands hard challenges without complaint. It is obvious that this is the last match he would ever want to lose. It could not end like this and, indeed, it would not.

It becomes a dance that brings him closer and closer to the equalizer. A magnificent pass to Nico González that is ruled offside. A cross-shot that looked destined to end up in the net almost by chance. The ball he constantly demands from his teammates. The relentless pressure.

With ten minutes remaining, Messi drifts out to the right wing. Whether it was a suggestion from Scaloni or, more likely, another stroke of his own genius, it changes everything. Enzo Fernández's equalizer comes after a touch from Messi. Lautaro Martínez's winning goal, scored by the Inter striker, is born from Messi's sublime cross—soft, precise, like a brushstroke by Giotto, like a melody by Mozart.

England collapses. They are exhausted. They pay the price for their trip ironically to the Azteca and the high-altitude mission where, in the rain, they eliminated Mexico but spent enormous amounts of energy. Jude Bellingham, so talented and so widely praised, can hardly make an impact anymore. He is the other No. 10 that everyone is watching on the pitch.

At the final whistle, all of Messi's teammates embrace him as he stands at the center of a collective hug. The crowd chants his name with their arms raised, almost like a mystical ritual. A "political" banner also appears one of the kind FIFA prohibits. It reads: "Las Malvinas son argentinas." Leo joins the celebrations with the rest of the team. The giant screen announces that FIFA has named him Player of the Match, but he hardly seems to notice.

Let's be clear: the idea that the Argentine national team is universally likable is a false myth. In Qatar, they mocked the Dutch after eliminating them in a penalty shootout. Goalkeeper Emiliano "Dibu" Martínez is a provocateur by nature. Their mentality is simple: "us against everyone." Journalists have experienced it firsthand in Qatar after the final and here in America, in Kansas City waiting three hours outside the dressing room only to watch the Argentine players walk past without answering a single question, even mocking "el puto periodista."

Who cares? It is impossible not to support a team like this. The crowd sings once again: "Por Malvinas, por El Diego, por la ultima de Leo." Diego Armando Maradona once said that after him another No. 10 would wear Argentina's sky-blue-and-white shirt. And "Leo's last one" has indeed arrived. On Sunday, in New York. Tears of sadness or joy, disappointment or ultimate glory. Whatever happens, we will never see another champion like him again.

“KORÇA BOOM”