Messi

by Guillem Balague

  Leo had to improvise his speech. He leaned on the microphone stand nervously: ‘Good evening and thank you very much for the applause … ehh … The truth is … I didn’t expect to win today. It was already enough to be here with my two team-mates, but being able to win it once again, well … It’s a very special day for me. I want to share it and thank my team-mates, as I would obviously not be here without them. I wanted to share it with all my loved ones who have always supported me and been by my side. And I want to share it with all the Barcelonistas and Argentines. Thank you very much.’

  Despite the whiff of controversy when his name was read out, Leo, Andrés and Xavi seemed closer than ever on the journey home. Iniesta knew that he wasn’t going to have another chance like that; La Gazzetta dello Sport had even announced that he would be the winner. He felt somewhat disappointed, but never disguised his admiration for Leo.

  ‘Everyone has the right to an opinion, but there was no problem with the decision, none at all,’ says Iniesta. ‘We were delighted to be there to see Leo win his second Ballon d’Or. I think that you have to value the nomination, which is very difficult to achieve. We felt the people’s huge appreciation, affection and respect. The three of us knew that it was about the team, we were there as individuals, but it was a collective thing, we were all clear about that.’

  Xavi did not expect anything; in fact, he said in private that he had been certain about who was going to win the award: Leo, of course, because quite simply … he was the best. The Catalan central midfielder could not believe that he had been nominated for prizes to which he did not attach a great deal of importance. What worried him more that year was if the bolets (mushroom) season would be a good one.

  ‘It would have been a surprise whatever happened,’ explains Xavi. ‘Leo won and for me it was right; he is an extraordinary footballer and he deserves it. We enjoyed something historic: Barcelona’s football and the Barça youth system won, and that made me particularly happy.’

  Xavi had been one of those who had smoothed Leo’s path upon his arrival in the first team, one of those who had reminded him from the start that if he found himself up against four defenders it would be better to play the ball back; if it was one or two, let the games begin. Xavi and Leo’s conversations were generally about football-based issues and, with Pep’s arrival, they focused more on the evolution that Messi had to experience. Xavi enjoyed seeing how ‘the Flea’ started to do things he had not done before Guardiola took over, playing the right pass at the right time and in the right place, gradually shared in the build-up as they’d discussed in training.

  Leo felt very grateful towards those who had helped him go so far, his people. And that year he felt he owed a debt to Xavi and Iniesta for furthering his career. On returning from Switzerland he made his gratitude clear both in public and in private.

  ‘Come on, Leo, a toast,’ shouted Piqué, often the man in charge of organising photos on such occasions.

  On the plane, while sitting next to his mother and with Iniesta in the seat behind him, he was asked to say a few words as the bottles of Cava were opened. ‘I want to make a toast to Xavi and Andrés, who deserved the award as much as, if not more than, me, even though I won it.’ Group photos were taken, glasses raised, every face wreathed in smiles.

  There was one question coming out of the Barcelona dressing room that will probably never be answered. What would have happened if Iniesta or Xavi had won? The players prepared themselves to look after Leo in case of such an eventuality, but in the end it was not necessary.

  Leo did not like the Spanish or international press’s response, however, pointing the finger at UEFA, FIFA and the rest of the footballing planet for such an unfair result. La Gaceta went with the headline ‘This Ball Is Not Made of Gold’, ABC said ‘FIFA disregards the world champions’ and La Stampa claimed that football had lost its way: ‘[Messi] in the competitions which count he has won nothing.’ That is what Leo woke up to the morning after winning the award.

  That afternoon, the Barcelona players returned to training and ‘the Flea’ felt he had a point to make to the football world. His personal standing was being doubted.

  Pep Guardiola still remembers that training session.

  ‘He was colossal in training, absolutely incredible,’ recalls Txiki Beguiristain. ‘Pep told me, “bloody hell, you should have seen him”.’

  In the six-a-side matches that were organised that day, Messi scored all sorts of goals, five in total; he dribbled, shot, drove forward, assisted and ran more than anyone. That was why he had been awarded the Ballon d’Or. He showered and went home.

  Leo had put everyone in their place.

  Third FIFA Ballon d’Or, 2011

  9 January 2012, Leo Messi received his third FIFA Ballon d’Or, equalling Platini’s record as the only man to have won it in consecutive years. Johan Cruyff and Marco Van Basten also had three to their names. Cristiano Ronaldo was second in that vote and Xavi third. Messi was wearing Dolce & Gabbana once again, a dark maroon, velvet suit jacket, white shirt, black tie. His smile was no longer timid, but broad.

  Leo had received 47 per cent of the votes. Ronaldo had 21 and Xavi 9. He picked up the award standing between Ronaldo Nazario, Sepp Blatter and Michel Platini. If he had been hesitant at the first award and a bundle of nerves at the second, at the third one he accepted the footballing world’s congratulations with grace and confidence.

  And his team-mate Xavi was not forgotten in the speech, although Ronaldo, absent that evening, was: he had a Copa del Rey match the following day.

  Back then, in the simplistic way with which everything is analysed in football, Ronaldo was cast as the pantomime villain, the villain who is so bad that he is almost charming, the antithesis of Barcelona’s success and good deeds. Messi (or any other Barça player) was the knight in shining armour, a classic hero, handsome, educated, with enormous talent and always successful. Naturally, the relationship between Cristiano and Leo is far more complex than such clichés would have us believe as we will see later.

  ‘I especially want to share this Ballon d’Or with my friend Xavi. It’s the fourth time we’ve come to this gala together. You deserve it, too,’ he said. ‘It’s a pleasure to be by your side here and on the pitch.’ Xavi was not expecting such recognition. ‘We are very good friends. He is a great person,’ says Xavi. ‘It was a lovely touch. What Leo did was worth more than any award.’ Neymar, present because of a spectacular goal he had scored against Flamengo, spent the evening staring at Messi in admiration.

  Fourth FIFA Ballon d’Or, 2012

  On 7 January 2013, Messi became the first player in the history of football to win a fourth Ballon d’Or. And he celebrated it wearing a polka-dot dinner suit.

  Platini, Van Basten and Cruyff won it three times. Beckenbauer, Di Stéfano and Ronaldo twice. Cristiano Ronaldo once. In the previous six years, there had been little rotation, proof of how complicated it is to reach the top: Ronaldo was on the podium on five occasions, Iniesta two, Xavi four. Messi on all of them.

  Leo did not vote for Ronaldo (he voted for Iniesta, Xavi and Manchester City striker Kun Agüero) and nor did Ronaldo vote for Leo (his votes were taken by compatriot Bruno Alvés who went for Ronaldo first, followed by Radamel Falcao and Robin van Persie).

  While Messi walked to the stage, the cameras cruelly zoomed in on Ronaldo’s twisted face, he was finding it hard to project a smile. Messi received 41 per cent of the votes, Ronaldo 23 and Andrés Iniesta 10.

  That was the year Rodrigo Messi told L’Équipe that his brother had been clear about it from the beginning: ‘I still remember when he told me he’d love to win the Ballon d’Or some day. He was thirteen years old.’

  Although he was known to be favourite, Leo’s words did not flow easily: ‘I want to share and thank my Barcelona team-mates, especially Andrés. I am proud to be by your side today and train and play with you every day. To my Argentina team-mates. To those who voted for me, both captains and coaches.’ Th
ere Leo stopped. ‘I don’t know … I’m very nervous. Thanks to my family, my friends and lastly and especially my wife and son who is the most beautiful thing God has given me.’ Later he explained what had happened: ‘I went blank in the middle because of the joy and because of the nerves. The truth is that I’m not used to speaking in front of so many people. I told the truth, but I was nervous.’

  Thiago ‘doesn’t understand anything yet,’ he said later in a press conference, but he wanted to name him and his girlfriend Antonella, too. He also wanted to pay tribute to Tito Vilanova and Éric Abidal but the nerves betrayed him: ‘Obviously, this one is for Tito, too. As I said recently, at that moment the words wouldn’t come out. It is for Tito and Abidal. It was a tough blow for us but I hope to see them now, it makes us very happy. The biggest prize we can receive is them being here with us.’

  2012 was a year of ups and downs for the team, with only the Spanish and European Supercup, the Copa del Rey and the FIFA Club World Cup victories, yet Messi still received individual accolades: ‘I look at the years in terms of titles won. Unfortunately we couldn’t win many, the best years were when we won titles.’

  Ex-Real Madrid player and now coach Santi Solari described in El País the Argentinian’s new achievement: ‘No other player has combined the competitiveness of professional football with the spontaneity of street football so naturally. No other player is capable of solving tactical conundrums so frequently, as if he were playing just outside his house. And no other player has connected the quantitative with the qualitative quite so perfectly. Watching Messi play is like taking a trip back through time: when he’s on the ball he opens a crack which we can peek through to spy on the essence of football. Each time he drives forward, he takes us on a journey to the village kickabouts, to breaktimes in school playgrounds, to the little pitches in the country. A journey to the very roots of the game, to that childish freedom to play the game just for the sake of the game.’

  In a modest celebration, making the most of Málaga’s visit to the Camp Nou in the cup, Leo shared with the fans his prize, which was handed to him by first-team liaison man Carlos Naval. Messi, to whom Adidas paid tribute with black boots sporting a serigraph of four golden balls which he wore for the match, had his photograph taken with the four awards. And, while he was at it, he scored against Málaga, too: he stole the ball from Wellington and beat Kameni.

  Curiously, while Leo was breaking records (he scored 91 goals in 2012) and winning individual awards, Barcelona were experiencing a few hiccups.

  Guardiola wanted to retain the order that had brought them success. But Cesc’s arrival that season added another dimension to the team, which gradually affected Pep’s idea. The control and balance provided by Xavi and Iniesta, the main advocates of that style, were gradually breaking down. The team was stretching following Cesc’s lead and his desire to get to goal as soon as possible.

  That also fitted Leo’s natural tendency to run at defenders, something that had been somehow tamed by Xavi, Iniesta and later Pep, who insisted that he had to help the moves to develop, be patient, keep the ball.

  Pep, now beginning to sense that people were tired of the same old story and the same faces, felt that the team was slipping from his grasp.

  11. PEP’S GOODBYE

  El País: Did Pep show you the way?

  Messi: Yes, Pep showed us the way and we are still going. He made us play with initiative, to always go for goal. He gave us the right attitude, the conviction that we were going to win. He was spectacular, beyond what he knows as a coach. The way he analysed matches, how he prepared for them … I don’t think there will ever be another coach like him.

  (Interview with Messi, Ramón Besa and Luis Martín, El País, 30 September 2012)

  After spending a year playing together on PlayStation online, Cesc Fàbregas in London and Messi in Barcelona, they were now, once again, reunited in the same dressing room. The prospect of returning home after eight years in England and playing under Pep and alongside Leo became irresistible for the central midfielder. Three months after arriving, the best players of that generation of ’87 happened to spend 90 minutes on the pitch together. It was against Viktoria Plzen˘ in the Champions League. The combined talent was electrifying: Messi scored a hat-trick, one of the goals was assisted by Piqué, and Cesc grabbed the other in a clinical 4–0 victory.

  The Argentinian was still scoring and generating yet more extraordinary statistics. But the doubts over collective play persisted. The introduction of Cesc added a new passing midfielder to the team and, following the Cruyffist idea that you always have to play your best players, Pep tried to fit him in. But Fábregas came from many years of being the Messi of his own team (at Arsenal), running freely in the centre of the midfield, and it became difficult to impose on him the positional game and the strict tactical demands that the midfielders required to get the best out of Leo.

  Cesc started in splendid form and the team beat Real Madrid and won three titles (Spanish and European Super Cup, World Club Cup). Leo, meanwhile, was playing every minute. Well, almost.

  Leo had received precise instructions in Guardiola’s first season about nutrition, but the coach gradually accepted that nobody knows their own strength like the footballer himself, always with Juanjo Brau by his side. So if he was okay, he would play. But maybe, three years later, it was now time to review the idea that he could play every game. Pep explained to him on occasions that the team was more protected with him on the pitch, but maybe it would be a good idea to rotate. At times he could be more decisive in 20 minutes than in 90, and Pep wanted to give him a rest. Leo did not accept that.

  After being a substitute in a 4–0 win over Sevilla the previous season, he did not turn up for training. El País reported that players had not realised his anger and, when they did not see him the next day, they thought he had a cold or something similar. ‘When he is that upset, or has lost a game, he doesn’t feel like doing anything,’ explains Cristina Cubero. ‘Basically he no longer gives a damn about going training, or whatever has to be done the next day.’

  In that 2011−12 season, the last time Messi was seen on the bench was against Real Sociedad after a transatlantic flight to play for the national team. Barcelona went 2–0 up but the local team brought it back to 2–2. He went on in the sixty-second minute but the deadlock remained. According to El País, Leo did not attend training the following day, disgusted once again at not starting. For reactions like those, some commentators call Messi, a ‘child champion’.

  If Messi got angry, he could go several days without speaking to Guardiola. It is one of Leo’s usual ways of dealing with conflict: erect a wall. He does it with Pep and even with his mother. Then, a few days later, his mood mellows and the door is once more open: ‘Speak to me’ his eyes say, or ‘I’m back’. Not even Leo can bear himself when he reacts in that way. ‘If I shut myself up, I go crazy,’ he said in an interview for El Mundo Deportivo. It is part of his baggage and that is how it is understood in the dressing room.

  But the distance that Leo created during these periods of sulking was difficult for Guardiola to endure.

  Guardiola understood that his success as a coach was due in no small part to Messi helping him to reach his peak, in exchange for Pep keeping him happy, for creating a team that would help him to maximise his talent. But he also thought that Messi listened to him and acted upon his advice. In that season, Pep’s fourth, the coach began to feel that Leo listened to him less and less. It became increasingly difficult to get his ideas across to him.

  Eventually Guardiola gave in: he decided to play him whenever he was fit. If it was what he wanted, if that made him happy, then let him have it.

  Messi played every game until Christmas. He was able to rest up in Rosario, ten days during which he slept, forgot about his diet and hardly did any exercise. It was what he needed and on his return he seemed unfit. That confirmed ‘the Flea’s’ suspicions: it was better to carry on playing and not lose that phy
sical sharpness that he needed to make the difference.

  GB: Did you find it hard to explain to him that he could not play in every game? Do you think that he is more aware of his body’s limits now?

  PG: There is a hint of the amateur here. There are people who say: every player wants to play. No, not every player wants to play. There are days when they are happy if they don’t play. He doesn’t have those days, he always wants to play. I haven’t spoken to him in a while and I don’t know if he has realised his limits or not. Evidently he knows his body better than anyone else. I did the best I could.

  Despite the years they spent together, Leo Messi, often difficult to interpret, is still something of a mystery to Guardiola. At the start, he found it hard to understand that Leo’s mentality was different from his own. ‘How is it possible for him to be like that, to go three days without speaking to me?’ he would ask himself. But in the end, he discovered that the question was misguided, and that you have to think as Leo, Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods do. He had to make an effort to understand him, instead of forcing or managing him.

  He tried to find a balance between making concessions to the star player and taking decisions for the collective good, between the amount of goals and the triumphs. Pep left him to his own devices, he let him play, because it was what he wanted and also because he scored two or three goals for him per match. It was a policy that brought success in its wake.

  But at the end of his time in charge, it became clear to Guardiola that coaches are simply instruments used by the greats (be they Michael Jordan, Maradona or Pelé) in order to achieve the maximum expression of their potential. Pep finally understood that Leo was above him, and above Barcelona, in the same way Pelé was above Santos or Maradona was above Napoli. They all construct a building that they use to achieve the goal they set themselves when they were children. And when the coach leaves, another arrives; it is as simple as that. In effect, the coach is superfluous.