Lionel Messi and the Wall

- Maxi Rodriguez

There was a moment Friday night where it seemed like fate was finally going to submit to ability.

Receiving a well-weighted pass from Ever Banega on the right side of the pitch, he quickly turned and touched the ball with his left foot, dodging a rushing challenge. With two defenders closing in from opposite directions, he burst forward, leaving one trailing while his partner missed a sliding attempt to derail the procession. Nearing the 18-yard box with eyes now focused squarely on the ball, he pushed on, stuttering for only a moment, as if to offer his approaching markers a moment to recuse themselves from the approaching goal.

His goodwill rejected by the nearing sound of cleats tearing through sod, he stepped left, as five Bolivian defenders turned to follow, before touching the ball left through a newly formed chasm in the defense. The defenders could only watch as the ball slid to Edinson Lavezzi, alone against the Bolivian keeper.

Mythological at best, film-worthy at worst, the moment seemed set to mark the coronation of the world’s greatest footballer as his nation’s greatest player. After years of remarkable success at the club level, it appeared that Lionel Messi was finally going to carry his club form to the international level, and realize the expectations of his compatriots. But destiny, unfortunately, can be a fickle mistress, leaving a wake of misdirection and betrayal in her path.

Just as Lavezzi approached the ball, right leg coming down like a pendulum as boot neared leather, a whistle blew. Lavezzi was offside, and Messi had once again failed to make a difference. A disgrace to his country. Someone who had no pride for the flag. “Un disastre.” A Spaniard.

The Problem

Every country wants one. A player so dominant, so forceful in their individual talents, that they can leverage the outcome of games by sheer choice. For most nations, that player is a fantasy. World class footballers tend to concentrate amongst a handful of teams, and even amongst those squads, a player so skilled that he can individually determine outcomes is a rarity.

It’s understandable then, that expectations and subsequent complaints follow these select players throughout their careers:

• “He should play as well for his country as he does for his club.”
• “We shouldn’t have to play around him.”
• “He just doesn’t seem to care.”

While these criticisms are part and parcel for players like Wayne Rooney and Cristiano Ronaldo, there’s a difference with the charges that follow Lionel Messi. Although Argentine frustrations find a voice through complaints about his on-field performances, there’s a much a deeper problem: for the majority of Argentines who follow football, Lionel Messi simply isn’t Argentine.

The Explanation

Relocated to Catalonia at the age of 12, Lionel Messi’s career has been nothing short of astounding. Olympic Gold Medal holder, U-20 World Cup Champion, 5-time winner of La Liga, 3-time winner of the Champions League, winner of the Balon d’Or, and a Fifa Player of the Year. Lionel Messi’s resume would make him a national treasure in any nation around the world, and yet in Argentina, it simply makes him culturally inauthentic.

Rather than being solely viewed as a symbol of his nation, such as Maradona was with Argentina, and Pele with Brazil, Lionel Messi is a global figure for a quickly shrinking world. A footballer who moved abroad at the age of 12, renowned for symbolizing a uniquely Spanish style of play, while being embraced by a global football audience, Lionel Messi is not defined by the country of his birth. Rather, he is simply a footballer who happens to be Argentine.

The Argentine press treats him as such. The constant nit-picking and persistent criticisms are not so much based on a legitimate critique of Messi’s performances, so much as they are on the fact that Lionel Messi lived a presumably “leisurely” life abroad. While Carlos Tevez and Sergio Aguero developed on the cold streets of Argentina and played in the Argentine First Division before moving abroad, Messi was given a simple path to success. A troubling “Spanish” approach to success.

This explains why he is viewed as a foreigner by the majority of Argentine football fans. Because he followed a different path of development which doesn’t conform to cultural norms, as well as living a sheltered life distinct from the often difficult world of South America, Argentines don’t accept him as one of their own. He simply doesn’t meet the requirements for the national identity. Messi is not an accepted member of the culture, and as such, is excluded from the goodwill that follows other Argentine footballers.

Despite the naive joy that develops from a well-placed pass or a curling shot into the top corner, one must never forget that football is a game defined by the larger issues it encompasses. Race, culture, gender, football is a simple game trailed by complex concerns. For a culture that defines itself through its footballing history, the fact that a player should gain success without following the expected course of development is met with resentment.

The Solution

What course of action then, can Lionel Messi take to displace the trailing animosity? Most sports commentators would claim that trophies would quiet the Argentine press. However, considering that Messi is persistently compared to Diego Maradona, only a Winner’s Medal from the World Cup would sever the complaints.

However, I doubt that Messi will ever gain full acceptance from the Argentine populace. Despite the talent and success, Messi would only be granted a begrudging respect. No matter the course of the rest of his career, Lionel Messi will remain a global figure. A player defined more by his talent than the country of his origin. As a result, it seems likely that the resentment will only lessen, never fully dissolving. Nevertheless, is that a bad thing? Should we not promote global figures in a globalized world, rather than holding on to sometimes dangerous notions of national identity?