Finally, the day came when Argentina won a championship without Messi. Messi had to leave the game due to an injury, his ankle resembling Maradona’s in 1990 in many ways (although in some ways, obviously not). Throughout the entire Copa, something unprecedented happened: Messi was not the decisive player. This had never happened in a whole tournament before. Messi had a tough run in this Copa, plagued by injuries. Age surely played a part, as well as competing in a league where the pace is slow and clumsy, far from elite football.
We’re witnessing Messi’s decline right before our eyes. But it’s such a magnificent decline that it’s hard to imagine him not playing in the next World Cup, even at the age of 39. As Messi cried on the bench, I wondered if his tears went beyond just leaving the game in a final; if they were the tears of a farewell, of a career that is now history, a career so extraordinary that words aren’t enough to describe it. In his press conference, Scaloni said, “Messi was born to be on a football field” (something that could also be said about Maradona). With that exit, those injuries (because there were several during the Copa), and his lack of centrality in almost all the games, it felt like what was ending wasn’t just Messi’s career, but football itself. Of course, that’s not true (I couldn’t have imagined football continuing after Maradona, yet it did), but the entire scene—the exit, the tears, Lautaro Martínez hugging him after the goal—had a pronounced sense of melancholy.
There’s a book that I know Martín Kohan liked (and I did too) called “The Melancholic Bet” by French essayist Daniel Bensaïd. It relates revolution to melancholy. The revolution, from the French Revolution of 1789 onwards, which seems to invoke celebration, vitality, and enthusiasm, also has a melancholic side (especially among intellectuals with revolutionary ideas). Amidst the celebrations for the championship, I felt not joy, but melancholy for the Messi who will never be what he once was, for the Messi we’re begging to play in one more World Cup and then we’ll stop asking.
### This Doesn’t Sit Well with Authoritarians
Professional and critical journalism is a cornerstone of democracy. That’s why it bothers those who believe they own the truth.
Aside from that, as we mentioned last week, local football has returned. Boca managed a draw at the high altitude of Quito after an embarrassment from the leadership who failed to register new players on time. What’s happening at Boca is almost shameful. In other words, Riquelme’s management is starting to look disastrous. Or put in another way, the best part of Riquelme’s management can be summed up in five letters: Macri. Or Milei. Or any of those. Faced with the monstrous, we defend Riquelme. But Riquelme makes it very difficult. Speaking of the game, the young players handled the altitude quite well, and if Merentiel had been more accurate, they could have even won the match. This patched-up Boca team is now the favorite for the rematch on Wednesday. Let’s hope they advance and then play with the main squad against Cruzeiro in the round of 16.
