“It’s a hard moment for me and the team, and it’s difficult to say, but it’s over with the Argentina team. I’ve done all I can, I’ve been in four finals and it hurts not to be a champion.”
Those were the words from Lionel Messi that sent the soccer world—and to a larger extent, the sports world—into a state of shock on Sunday night. Shortly after Argentina’s loss in a penalty shootout to Chile in the Copa America final, Messi, who blasted over the crossbar, announced his retirement from international soccer.
I understand the temptation here to criticize the guy, to call him a quitter. But showing Messi a little compassion and understanding wouldn’t be out of order here. At 29, he’s experienced a fair bit of heartbreak with Argentina, losing four major finals since 2007, including back-to-back losses to Chile in a shootout in the Copa America final the past two years.
He’s also logged a punishing amount of playing time over the past 12 years for both FC Barcelona and Argentina, with his season usually ending in June—and in one case, as late as July 16. He’s physically and mentally spent.
Let’s hope that Messi’s retirement statement was strictly made in the heat of the moment; that he said it out of frustration when he was emotional and not at his best, and that he’ll reconsider after cooling off and having some time to reflect on it in a sober fashion.
If Messi doesn’t change his mind, though—if he does, in fact, remain true to his word and walk away from the international game—let’s wish him the best of luck, instead of selfishly slamming him for depriving us of the pleasure of watching him at one more World Cup or Copa America. Lord knows he’s provided us with enough entertainment to fill several lifetimes. He deserves the rest.
Let’s also refrain from making the clichéd argument about this negatively impacting his legacy; that calling it quits while still in his prime and failing to lead Argentina to glory at the World Cup leaves him forever in Diego Maradona’s shadow as his country’s most famous sportsman, or that this will cost him his rightful place in the sport’s pantheon of all-time greats.
The truth is, if Lionel Messi never again laces up his cleats for Argentina, he will still be one of the greatest to ever play the game—perhaps the greatest. Not having a World Cup victory on his resume shouldn’t hurt Messi’s standing.
Forget about the obvious counter-argument about soccer being a team sport, and how it’s utterly ridiculous to judge an individual player based on such merits. Forget about how some of the game’s biggest icons (Michel Platini, Johan Cruyff and Ferenc Puskas) never won a World Cup, and that some never even played at the World Cup (Alfredo Di Stefano and George Best foremost among them).
Are we actually going to judge a player based almost entirely on a World Cup that is played every four years? On a competition that has only been won by eight countries? On a tournament that has taken place only 20 times since 1930? Are we really going to be that myopic?
No doubt, success achieved with the national team should be taken into consideration. However, it’s not the be all and end all—it shouldn’t be the defining benchmark by which we judge a player’s value, legacy and greatness.
It’s important to remember too that the dynamic of the sport has changed over the decades. It used to be that the international game ruled; that playing for your country was the ultimate goal in an era when it actually meant something to make over 100 appearances for the national team. Today, caps are given out like candy thanks to a glut of meaningless friendlies and a slew of international matches that needlessly clog up the calendar.
The rise in importance of the UEFA Champions League should also not be discounted. European club soccer’s biggest tournament routinely features the very best players from around the world, something the World Cup can’t always necessarily claim. The quality of football on display in the Champions League is higher than that found in the World Cup, which has become somewhat diluted with the glut of second-rate nations who qualify. The Champions League is the very best of the best. The World Cup, with its bloated 32-team format, has become more and more an exercise in separating the sport’s wheat from the chaff.
We’ve never seen a goal scorer in soccer history like Messi—over 450 goals for FC Barcelona and Argentina. There have been players who’ve scored more (Pele among them), but Messi’s goals have been scored at the very highest level—in La Liga, the Champions League, the World Cup and Copa America. Fifty-goal seasons have become routine for Messi. When you consider the calibre of opponents he’s faced—in an era when players are better, stronger and faster than at any point in history—Messi’s offensive output is unprecedented.
More important than that, though, what has made Messi among the greatest of all time is his ability to make the impossible look routine. He uses the pitch as his canvas to stretch the very boundaries of soccer, shaping and twisting the sport in ways never thought possible. In an age of unwavering cynicism, he has made us believe in magic.
That’s why he’s among the best, and why his greatness should never be questioned.