Lionel Messi has spent much of his career being compared to Diego Maradona, but could eclipse him at this World Cup. If this is Messi's last World Cup, could he win it twice and surpass Maradona?
After living in the Argentina idol's shadow, the 39-year-old star of 2022 is still capable of a final glorious chapter. Messi in Qatar felt like the perfect story—a great finale. He is doomed always to be compared with Maradona, whose life was filled with operatic ups and downs, injury and addiction, drugs bans and organised crime. Messi's narrative always seemed flat: a kid good at football, consistently excellent for two decades, winning title after title. Yes, there were tears and frustrations, but not the dramatic lows of Maradona.
Qatar offered dramatic intrigue. Club success wasn't enough. Messi was driven, overcoming his reserve to become the true leader of the team, winning the Copa America in Brazil the previous year. He gave team talks. After the quarter-final win over the Netherlands, he snapped at Wout Weghorst: "Que mira, bobo?"—what are you looking at, idiot?—celebrated as the quiet man coming out of his shell. Could Argentina finally lift the trophy in what was assumed to be his final World Cup? In the knockout stage, every game felt like his last; his genius and fragility reminded us of mortality.
Qatar felt like completion of a circle. In 1995, Argentina won the first of five Under-20 World Cups under Jose Pekerman and Hugo Tocalli. Lionel Scaloni, the manager, was part of that first team, as were assistants Walter Samuel and Pablo Aimar. Messi was part of the last side in 2007, alongside Papu Gomez, while Angel Di Maria played in 2005. The Pekerman/Tocalli spirit ran through the squad, amplified by the fear that sustained youth success might yield nothing at senior level. What began in Qatar ended gloriously there.
If Messi had been motivated by narrative, he would have shrugged off the bisht draped over his shoulders during the trophy presentation and announced retirement. He could have performed a lap of honour, carried shoulder-high, evoking Maradona's triumph at the Azteca in 1986. The perfect climax. Fin. Roll credits.
All of which makes it slightly awkward that four years later, Argentina are preparing for another World Cup with Messi. He has betrayed the narrative. He will have had more one-last-jobs than Danny Glover. He will turn 39 during the tournament, making him the oldest Argentine to play at the World Cup (though only the 10th-oldest player overall; players are generally getting older). There is a major risk he departs on a low, with an anticlimax reminiscent of Argentina's pre-Qatar World Cups.
But there is a possibility of triumph. Could he do it again? A layperson may think there is nothing left to prove, that the job is done. It's almost a prerequisite of elite sportspeople to have robust, irrational self-belief. Perhaps he thinks he can inspire Argentina to glory once more. After years of living in Maradona's shadow, of hearing that he never won the biggest prize for his country, could he surpass Maradona and win it twice? Is there a future where Argentinians ruefully acknowledge that Diego won only once?
Yet how likely is that? Messi in Qatar felt old. He drifted on the periphery, flitted in for moments of genius, then vanished. Rodrigo De Paul became his legs, so much so that Inter Miami signed him to do the same in MLS. Julian Alvarez and Enzo Fernandez also covered. But once it's accepted that a player can't run, an incremental decrease in physical capacity doesn't matter much. Wandering in the shadows, he becomes a danger; he doesn't gum up central mechanisms.
Before the last World Cup, Messi played regularly at a high level: 13 Ligue 1 and five Champions League games in the half-season. This year, he has played 14 MLS and two Concacaf Champions League games, roughly equivalent. But while familiarity with conditions may help, the level is nowhere near France's top division. Messi has remained productive for Argentina, in the Copa America win and subsequent qualifiers and friendlies.
Is he equipped for this? The fear is that Messi may become a parody of himself, an impotent reminder of past glories. There lurks the horror that all people contemplating retirement must have—clinging on beyond the point of utility, terrified of losing purpose. What comes next for Messi? He is so enigmatic it's hard to know if he has aptitude for coaching or punditry, or any ambitions in that direction. If life is to be brand appearances and endless PlayStation games, reluctance to end his playing career is understandable.
But perhaps that's projecting normal standards upon him, and those never really applied. Qatar seemed like the great climactic finale, but there is a possibility it was just the first part of an even greater denouement. Perhaps he really could win it twice.
