Leo’s lesson for us all Barcelona’s messiah was almost stupidly dismissed
EVEN if you think of Garrincha’s gammy leg or Ferenc Puskas’s beer- barrel belly, Lionel Messi is football’s all- time lesson not to judge a book by its cover.
When he arrived at the Nou Camp in 2000, more than one director of the club – which now view him as more Messiah than Messi – was quite content to witheringly condemn him as “only fi t to make a table footballer”.
Gerard Pique and Cesc Fabregas happily admit they thought initially he was mute.
And me? Well, when I fi rst went to watch him play, in 2003 with Barca B, I came away far more impressed with his team- mate Joan Verdu, who is now a common or garden creative midfi elder at Espanyol.
What Messi teaches everyone is that, whether or not he will ever go on to be widely accredited as the greatest footballer ever, you simply never underestimate him.
Years later, researching the book Barca: The Making of the Greatest Team in the World, I interviewed Arnau Riera, who was his Barcelona B captain that day – and he got me off the hook.
“As soon as Messi, aged 16, reached the Barca B team, he knew and we knew that he was already too good for that level and should be at least training with the fi rst team, if not playing for them,” said Arnau . “I remember that day – Leo didn’t like being played as a winger and, if he wasn’t quite sulking, he wasn’t going through the gears.”
A relief to know then that I hadn’t witnessed blossoming genius at the germinal stage and utterly missed football’s splitting of the atom.
Even Ronald de Boer admitted that, having been playing beach football in Barbados with the then Barca fi rstteam coach Frank Rijkaard, he had his ear bent by his former Holland teammate about this “genius little kid who can beat Ronaldinho and Deco at football- tennis”.
De Boer was all grins as he confessed that the fi rst time he saw Messi, he too was confused about what all the fuss was about. Aged 16, Messi could occasionally be hustled out of games.
What I had already missed during his formative years, but was about to fi nd out in my fi rst interview with him in 2004, is that Messi is as brave as a lion. God gave him the ferocity of Billy Bremner, the skill of Georgie Best and the football temperament of Gary Lineker or Sir Bobby Charlton.
Messi’s last game with Fabregas before the latter joined Arsenal was a youth cup fi nal against Espanyol. In beating them to the title 10 days previously, Messi had fractured a cheekbone . He begged and cajoled his father, the medics and his coach to let him play using an old protective face mask which had been made for Carles Puyol. They reluctantly consented, he wore the mask for a minute or two in the fi nal before tossing it aside because he could n ot see properly. He then ran off to score twice before he could be replaced at half- time.
“Why don’t you react? Why don’t you retaliate when players constantly hack you down and kick you off the ball?” was one of the fi rst questions I asked him. He told me, in all sincerity, that these assaults hurt in the fi rst 10 minutes but, once he is in full battle mode, he almost does n ot notice.
Moreover, he had been taunted and teased so much by his two elder brothers as a kid that he had learnt to take his revenge not physically, nor by sulking, but by beating them with the ball. Over and over again.
What you cannot fail to notice is that, whenever you speak to him, there is an almost perpetual mischievous glint in his eye. He views the circus around him not with disdain, nor as unnecessary – just an amusing by- product.
That twinkle in his eye is, to me, the physical embodiment of how he plays. I asked him how many of his moves were pre- planned or a product of something he had tried before and knew would come off. Not at all was his contention.
Messi, in his words, simply uses that football computer brain of his to spew up innate, almost involuntary twists, turns, gyrations and bursts of speed .
Given that the evidence of what we have seen supports that contention, one of the things which I have learnt makes Messi very special is that the Pep Guardiola era has taught him how to develop that muscle between his ears. He is becoming an increasingly intelligent footballer.
Beyond his instinctive decisions, just watch how often he can make two or three split- second decisions in the middle of a helter- skelter run which is dragging four, perhaps fi ve, opposition players with him. Now he is the focus of the world’s eyes. In 2009, I wrote a fairly chippy preview of the Champions League fi nal for this newspaper.
It was a reaction to many in England questioning Messi’s pedigree because he had never scored against a Premier League side. A comprehensive win plus a headed goal past Edwin van der Sar and most were changing their view.
Less than three years later he is within seven goals of equalling the all- time scoring record for Barcelona, aged only 24 . And now people want to know: Is he the best ever?
I spoke to him after his fi ve- goal haul against Bayer Leverkusen on Wednesday and he cares as much about that question as he did about becoming the fi rst player in Champions League history to achieve the feat.
Messi loves football. He loves to win and things like entertainment, his place in the pantheon and all the media attention are simply by- products.
Give him a ball and he is happy. When he uses it to win, he is happier still. Little wonder football loves Messi as much as he loves the ball.