Saying goodbye to Lionel Messi

I was 12 when I first watched Lionel Messi play soccer. During the 2008 Beijing Olympics, I sat on my dad’s office floor in the sweltering heat of a Roman summer. I did not know who Messi was, but his mesmerizing game against the Netherlands hooked me for life. There was an art to how he played that was magical to young me. Argentina went on to win gold, and I had no idea how much of my life would revolve around Argentina and Lionel Messi after that.

For much of my life, supporting Argentina meant learning to deal with loss. It felt like a cruel life lesson: sometimes, no matter how talented you are, or how hard you work, you just will not win.

Now, with Messi having called time on his 208-match international soccer career after last Tuesday’s 3-0 victory over Benin in Buenos Aires, there is a chance to look back on his long and often frustrating road to glory.

Messi signs off in tears after one last Argentina master class

In 2014, Argentina came within touching distance of soccer’s greatest prize. Messi had an opportunity to put Argentina up, but sent a shot narrowly wide, and Germany won in extra time. I went to bed with a pit in my stomach that would remain for eight more years. The losses continued like an out-of-control freight train after that, with back-to-back Copa America final defeats in 2015 and 2016. When Messi missed his penalty against Chile in the third consecutive final defeat, he announced his retirement from international soccer.

Not only had Argentina failed again, Messi had played a part in that failure. I’ve never seen a player look as devastated as he did, clutching and tearing his jersey in agony. I was numb, and I wept. This could not be how the player I loved so much ended his career. I knew the sport could be cruel, but I did not know it could be that cruel, and I was ready to stop watching soccer altogether.

Lionel Scaloni later took charge and that’s when Argentina’s fortunes began to shift. When Messi retired in 2016, Scaloni had posted a photograph of him surrounded by opponents completely by himself in attack, writing, “This image says it all… don’t go, Leo.”

How beautiful that the man who begged Messi not to leave would help him achieve his biggest dreams.

In 2021, Argentina finally won the Copa América, with Angel Di Maria scoring the winning goal. The label of international failure was gone, and something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime came true. Messi was a champion with Argentina after so many years of heartache; the pain was finally gone.

The irony was that he had played better tournaments before in the 2016 final against Chile, only to retire after the match. In 2021, he was less involved in the play than he usually was, but this time he left with the trophy in his hands. Soccer, just like life, requires a support system, and he finally had it.

But something was still missing. I was afraid to dream of the World Cup and had almost developed a distaste for the competition over the years. How could someone who scored 91 goals in a calendar year still need a seven-game tournament to prove he was the greatest?

Argentina’s opening defeat in 2022 to Saudi Arabia brought back that familiar pit in my stomach. The team was just not good enough yet again. Against Mexico, after 67 minutes, where it seemed like the writing was on the wall yet again, Di María found Messi who found an inch of space and drilled a low shot into the bottom corner.

This was perhaps the most important goal of his career; without this goal, Argentina certainly go home. I can still hear Peter Drury’s words: “One more Messi moment and Argentina are alive.”

In that moment, I did not even care whether Argentina went on to win it. My hero was immortal.

The final against France was both painful and exhilarating. Messi scored twice, including what looked like the winner in extra time once again dispelling those demons that had haunted him for so long.

Argentina’s national team’s future looks bright after Messi’s farewell

I fell into a stranger’s arms in a small café in Montreal out of sheer relief after Gonzalo Montiel’s winning penalty in the shootout went in. Messi and Argentina had won the World Cup. His assists against Croatia and the Netherlands were amongst the best in World Cup history, and he produced those in back-to-back matches.

I may never see anything like it again, which makes this goodbye so hard. To this day the idea that Lionel Messi has won the World Cup still seems like a dream.

After that spectacular World Cup, I told myself I would not get as emotionally invested again. There’s only so much I could physically take after 18 years. Still, very greedily, I wanted one last glimpse of magic, knowing this was probably his last-ever time in an Argentina shirt. Against Egypt, Messi missed a penalty, something I was also too familiar with.

Messi was never going to let his team go out without a fight though. He then assisted a Cristian Romero goal before striking a beautiful half-volley to make it 2–2. I was in tears. For a moment, it felt as though we had been transported back in time. Messi celebrated more than I’d seen him after winning the World Cup in 2022, maybe a final ode to the career he was about to leave behind, and to his sick father.

It felt poetic that the semi-final was against England, the opponent against whom Diego Maradona had delivered his era-defining performance in 1986. At 39, Messi completed an astounding 10 dribbles on soccer’s biggest stage, something players more than 15 years younger than him could only dream of producing and assisted the winner with a perfect cross on his weaker foot.

This is why I fell in love with Lionel Messi: it is not just about winning; it’s how he does it. Argentina lost the final to a young and practically flawless Spain side in the end, I wasn’t as heartbroken as I was in 2014, but knowing he had played the best soccer at the tournament and left with nothing felt alarmingly similar to the first 15 years of his Argentina career, and it seemed so profoundly unfair to me that he didn’t leave the national team with what he deserved the most, once again.

After his October 6 farewell, I, along with millions of other fans, now face the painful reality of international soccer without Messi – no more leaping from my seat at every goal or dribble anymore.

In a weird way, I will miss the heartbreaks, too. Every emotion I felt holds a special place in my heart. I watched him lose those finals as a teenager, then witnessed triumphs I’d never imagined possible as an adult. That chapter of my life is over now, and I have to learn to accept there’s always going to be a yearning for one more Messi moment that I’ll never get again.

In Messi’s own words, “I leave in peace.” So do I. Thank you for everything, Lionel Messi.