Messi

by Guillem Balague

  Carlovich remains the antithesis of Leo Messi: his fame and the best of his career stayed in Santa Fe and because of this he is adored. His legend is commonplace in Rosario. One of those lyrical, almost poetic players who no longer exist. And that’s how legends and winners in Argentinian football, like César Luis Menotti, José Pekerman, Carlos Grignol, Aldo Poy, Marcelo Bielsa, Enrique Wolff, Carlos Aimar and Mario Killer, tell his story. ‘Remember I was just a young boy when Trinche, the likes of whom we no longer have, was playing,’ confirms Tata Martino, a native of Rosario, now at Barcelona. ‘He’d do nutmegs backwards and forwards, people used to rave about him, above all for his incredible amateur spirit and that Rosario trademark: his unique passion for football. He would play a World Cup game or a match with mates with the same conviction. He had almost everything you need to become one of the greats.’ The emphasis is on the word ‘almost’.

  ‘What does it mean “getting to the top”?’ asks Trinche. ‘The truth is that I never had any other ambition than to play football. And above all I never wanted to distance myself from my neighbourhood, from my parents’ house, where I go nearly every afternoon, to stay with Vasco Artola, one of my oldest friends. On the other hand I’m a very solitary person. When I played for Central Córdoba, if I could, I preferred to get changed alone, in the utility room instead of the changing room. I like to be calm, it’s not from any ill will.’

  After leaving football he worked as a bricklayer, but life dealt him a terrible blow. Amez de Paz explains. ‘I didn’t know that Triche was suffering from a terrible osteoporosis, which had destroyed his hips and practically made him an invalid.’ Trinche had knocked on various doors seeking assistance, but with little success. ‘The first thing I did was speak to my friend, the well-known traumatology doctor and former footballer, Carlos Lancellotti,’ adds Amez de Paz who decided to resolve the situation. ‘He told me that he would operate on him free of charge, including taking care of the costs of the operation and the post-operative care, but that he needed a prosthetic. At first the request was refused due to lack of funds reserved for such cases. But an appeal was made to the Public Health secretary. Finally, in the first days of September, the order to acquire the prosthetic arrived.’

  A tribute evening with two benefit matches was held, organised by Amez de Paz, together with friends, his own children and even the Maradonian Church. The cost of entrance was the equivalent of just one euro. ‘We were utterly astounded. A host of great footballers turned up to participate in those games,’ recalls the veteran journalist.

  That day, Tomás Felipe, el Trinche, Carlovich wept. As he did years later when they asked him what he would have changed about his professional career. ‘Noo, don’t ask me that …’

  The only thing that interested Carlovich was the ball, and he never felt comfortable with commitment. He had all the attributes to build a great career, but lacked the character needed to maintain the discipline. ‘It was as if the ball took Carlovich, an intelligent ball, that enjoyed doing artistic things, and meanwhile dragging behind it a footballer,’ says Menotti. An amateur one.

  It’s said that Trinche arrived on the scene around the same time as coaches obsessed with physical prowess, who sought to convert football from an art form into something entirely different. It was, they say, an ugly period for the game in Argentina, though that has a slightly hollow ring. ‘Perhaps what he lacked was the professionalism needed to compete in football at this level,’ confirms former footballer and coach Carlos Aimar.

  Menotti adds: ‘He never found physical reserves that supported his technical abilities. What’s more, he never had anyone who accompanied or understood him. It was a shame because Carlovich should have been one of the most important players in the history of Argentinian football. I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe he became bored with professional football. He just enjoyed having a good time.’

  Being number one, being the one everybody looks up to, is not for everyone. ‘Messi confronts each situation as it’s presented to him. But prior to that he has gone through a great deal, he’s suffered, and yet he’s come through it,’ says Pancho Ferraro. ‘He doesn’t throw in the towel. There are some for whom life becomes foggy and they can’t see the way forward. There are others who find themselves in the middle of hailstorms, and still come through it. Why do so many youngsters fail to make it? Carlovich, a great player. Rodas is a great player, but for some reason neither of them made it. And for me, it annoys me when people say “he didn’t have any luck”. The fact is they didn’t look hard enough for it. They didn’t go out and fight for it. That’s why the player who gets to the top and stays there should be applauded. Players like the Zanettis, Batistutas, Samuels, Crespos … these I applaud. Those who come and go … no!’

  Here’s another perspective. In an interview on the Argentinian TV channel TyC, given from the comfort of his sofa in his Barcelona home, Leo opened up:

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  Have you at any time told yourself ‘I’m a failure, I’m no good, I’m not going to get anywhere, I’m not going to become a professional footballer’?

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  No. There have been games where I didn’t score or play well and I’m my own worst critic, so I know when I play well and when I play badly.

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  But did you ever, in a rash moment, think that you might not want to be a footballer any more?

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  No. To throw it all away? No. I knew that my dream was to play in the first division, and that I was going to fight for that. There were games where I didn’t achieve anything and I criticised myself strongly then. But give up? No.

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  Did you ever prepare yourself in a special way? Like talking to a psychologist, because the pressures are so great, it isn’t for everyone, is it?

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  No, I don’t talk a lot, I don’t like to talk about personal things. It’s very difficult to get personal stuff out of me. I have to be with my family or a very close friend to feel comfortable talking about myself, and even then I tend to hold back on any bad things I’m feeling. As I got older I shared more with my family, but at the beginning, not even with them.

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  But, never, even with the team psychologist for a chat?

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  No, no, I don’t like that for the reasons I’ve just given. I don’t like discussing my personal stuff and I thought that if I went it would be a waste of time because I would have nothing to say.

  Josep María Minguella says, with a degree of certainty, that Leo ‘comes from a marvellous planet, the one from which only the most exceptional come, where architects, doctors, violinists are created. The chosen ones.’ Interestingly Jorge Messi never called his son a ‘genius’. Many others have, but, in truth, to place him in such a category is to somehow diminish the sacrifice and hard work that have taken him to where he is. The very word ‘genius’ suggests that his rise was inevitable. But is he a genius? He’s certainly unique, but, in a way, aren’t we all? Our fingerprints alone bear testimony to that fact. What separates Leo from the herd? Or, rather, why do we choose to remain with the herd while those with a supreme talent drift away? And where does the talent come from? Is it genetics, passion, environment? How many hours do you have to devote to football to become a Lionel Messi?

  His talent is undoubtedly unique. It differs dramatically from the talents of Maradona or Ronaldo. But over and above his skill with the ball, what drives him to want to be better every day? And is it this drive, constant and relentless, that has raised him to the pinnacle of his profession? And can such drive be taught? Is it inherent or something that can be acquired?

  In Outliers: The Story of Success, his brilliant study of talent and success, Malcolm Gladwell says that biologists frequently talk about the ‘ecology’ of an organism: ‘the tallest oak in the forest is so because there aren’t any other trees that block the sun, because the ground in which it is planted is deep and rich, because there haven’t been rabbits eatin
g at its bark and because a woodcutter hasn’t cut it down before it has grown’. Successful people have resistant seeds but still need the help of a fertile soil, distracted rabbits, and woodcutters with eyes on other trees.

  Pedro Gómez, coach, blogger, physical instructor and sports psychologist, has prepared for this book a list of ten skills that those who excel in a particular field have in common; in this case ten characteristics that help to make Leo unique. The necessary sacrifices have been discussed. It serves as a point of reference for those who wish to get to the very top of their profession, in football, or any field, as much as for those who are contemplating with hope (or otherwise) the development of a child. Is my offspring suitable for this? Could he go far? Should I lead him along this road?

  The late actor Christopher Reeve, who knew more than most about the highs and lows, the triumphs and the pain, said that ‘many dreams appear impossible at first, later improbable, and finally, when we set our minds to it, they become inevitable’.

  Leo had set his mind on becoming one of the greats. Irredeemably. This is how I think he did it.

  SKILLS NEEDED TO ‘BE ABLE TO LEARN’

  1. Family and footballing context

  ‘I never played well enough for my old man. As a youngster I’d score four goals, but, for him, it was never good enough. He always had some criticism that made me want to succeed more and more every time in the hope that he’d say “you played well”. There were very few times when he said to me “you played well”.’

  (Leo Messi)

  ‘He plays, we take care of everything else. I live in Spain and Matías in Argentina. Me and my old man manage his affairs … A star like Leo is high-maintenance. He needs a firm support system because the only thing that interests him is playing football. When someone like my brother achieves such fame and prominence in the footballing world, he leaves himself open to all sorts of rumour and false reporting. People talk about his income, they say that he has alienated himself from his people, that he cares about nothing other than football and fame. The fact is that those close to Leo know that none of this stuff is true.’

  (Rodrigo Messi)

  From the start, the family closed ranks and set out to build a wall of protection around Leo. He was still growing and it soon became apparent that he needed a shield from various interested parties who would seek to exploit and profit from him. Some had been trusted associates who later proved to be motivated by greed and self-interest. Contracts had been hastily signed and surprise clauses emerged that were not in Leo’s best interest. The Messis still have various court actions in process with individuals who they thought were friends.

  ‘The family have had some very bad experiences with agents and the result is that they now function as a family firm whose sole aim is to guarantee Leo’s future as a footballer,’ explains Carles Folguera, director of La Masía. ‘Their aim is to guarantee that no one takes the Messi money that quite rightly belongs to Leo. Messi has become a brand, and a significant brand at that. They all work together as a close-knit clan, but in the best sense of the word.’

  As already discussed, having your father as your manager creates a dynamic that is very different from the normal father/son relationship. In the last few years, Leo’s father has decided to charge Leo a commission, as any other agent would, drawing a definitive line between his money and that of his son, and trying to overcome the potential difficulties of their bond. They think having a wage is better than not having any money at all, or waiting for your son to pay you something, and prevents money from becoming a divisive issue.

  So essentially Leo lives in a world of his own creation, and he does it precisely because it is in his interest to do so. It is a sign of practical intelligence. ‘He knows that he is very good at football, and that in this world the fewer entanglements he is involved with, the better,’ insists Folguera. ‘Some say that as a person he has limitations, but in fact he is conscious that doing anything out of the ordinary can create problems. So he doesn’t. He is advised by his family, [in his day] by Guardiola, and by very few people who are close to them. At the end of the day Messi is very much a family man.’

  ‘Away from football he is a sentimental man’, says the physiotherapist Juanjo Brau, one of the people who understands Messi best of all. He knew him when he went up to the first team with Frank Rijkaard and for six years has accompanied him everywhere, be it with the Catalan club or the national side, even on his holidays. He instructs him on his body, helps him recover from his injuries, teaches him how to prevent them. They spend hundreds of hours every year together, and he has seen his evolution from close up. ‘I feel part of “his people”, a very small group of people, but he might never ask me if I am okay or not. If he sees that I am fucked, if there is something troubling me, he will try to find a solution. He would just say, “and why are you like that?” He has that perception, that way of looking after his people.’

  Having a familiar, demanding and understanding entourage is the necessary foundation of a great sportsman. But, perhaps more importantly, it was the family approach to his playing (particularly the positive reaction during a rondo at the Estado de Israel when he was four) that motivated him and compelled him to work hard to achieve success. If the person watching you, your father, or grandmother or any family member, treats you like a god, then you want to make sure you come up to scratch to please them. His play was brilliant and spontaneous, but in order to rise above the others of his generation who played with equal zeal and fervour, Leo realised he needed to acquire skill and, through skill, recognition.

  Football was a prize of great value in the Messi household, and, naturally, children are conditioned by the likes and dislikes of their parents. If you hear at home ‘so and so is a great writer’ or you visit a friend’s house and see the family reading, you will, in a moment of reflection, think to yourself, ‘I’d like to do that too.’ And if you enjoy it, you end up making it part of your life. The desire to emulate and achieve recognition is part of the drive that makes us human. Leo’s desires were formed by the fantasies of his father and wider family. All the men wanted to become professional footballers. Hand in hand they travelled that road of dreams together.

  Nothing is accidental. Two of Rafa Nadal’s uncles played tennis while he was growing up. In fact, one of them, Miguel Ángel Nadal, the former Barcelona and Spain central defender, had to choose between football and tennis. Aged just three, Rafa was already playing on a tennis court. His grandmother remembered later that she had heard he was quite good and went to watch him on a number of occasions to confirm that the boy had talent – once again evidence of the family eye. Manel Estiarte, considered to be the greatest water polo player in history, had an older brother who practised the sport and even though Manel started off wanting to become a swimmer, he changed direction when he reached adolescence.

  What’s more, Leo was very thin, almost a dwarf, and the recognition within his small world of his demonstrable footballing talent was compensation for his physical limitations.

  How a footballer’s ability is viewed and critiqued by those closest to him, his parents, his coach, other players and employees of the club, will ultimately determine how he defines his success. To be constantly told ‘you’re the best’ suggests a particular description of success that is linked to victory and superiority over others. If, on the other hand, he is encouraged to concentrate on the ‘struggle’ and the desire to get better all the time (the philosophy of Jorge Messi), then the person is inspired to be the best they can be, irrespective of defeat or victory. How many times have we heard Leo say, ‘I still have a lot of room for improvement’?

  Before the financial crisis hit Argentina, his family were relatively comfortable. This enabled them to become part of the Football Academy world with all the necessary expenses that that entailed. In truth, in the last four decades there have been very few Argentinian footballers from poor backgrounds. Such relative financial stability has formed part of the networ
k of protection that surrounds Leo.

  In this he is not dissimilar to the vast majority of those who make it to the first division. Being freed from many of the hazards of normal life, the footballer is free to pursue his dream.

  There’s more: in Grandoli, as at Newell’s, in the trials at River and at Barcelona, he was made to play against older boys, the best in the school. Similarly in the street, against his older brothers. Having the shit kicked out of him, without complaint and always accepting apologies, strengthened his character and his resolve. And made his learning process more difficult – in his training sessions, Tiger Woods would deliberately hit his ball into the sand to make his day more demanding. Players of a high standard, or even players who are older, all help to improve the quality of the practice sessions and help to intensify and promote the winning mentality, the ambition. Quality coaching is key, too: excellence comes from the constant search for the grand objective which is sometimes identified by the coach, the only one capable of seeing whether or not it is obtainable.

  It’s said that one of the reasons for Brazil’s footballing success is because its players have passed through small indoor pitches, similar to those at the Malvinas where Leo played until he was 11. A smaller ball demands more precision, encourages more passes; a smaller space multiplies the contact you have with the ball. At Newell’s Leo found a club that was looking for footballers with coordination and technique and what the coach, Quique Domínguez, calls ‘a continuity of enjoyment’. A great mixture.

  Shortly after marrying, Jorge and Celia considered moving to Australia. Leo might have been born in Sydney, without the support of the passionate football infrastructure and the institutions that picked him out because of his co-ordination and technique. That helped him grow, also because of the competition with other good players and the experience of his veteran coaches. The Argentinian gene would have been a long way away, represented only by his father. Insufficient data for the creation of a member of the footballing elite.