First, he fell to the ground with a grimace, the play continued for a few seconds, and then everyone gasped.
Lionel Messi has gone down, and Lionel Messi is not the kind of player who goes down without doing anything.
Argentina's playmaker and talisman was holding his right ankle. He had fallen under his own power and there had been no obvious kick that would have caused the injury, but he knew his day was over.
He took off his right boot and rose gently to his feet. The physios asked how he was, as they surely knew. He stumbled to the touchline, each step like a stab to the Argentine's heart. Then the boards went up. Nicolas Gonzalez was in, Messi was out.
Messi walked slowly to the bench and threw his boots to the floor. He slumped into a chair and covered his face with his hands. Teammate Leandro Paredes ruffled his hair but said nothing. What was to be said?
After a second or two, the camera turns on Messi again, zooming in on the most famous face in football – even humanity – and Messi, with his ultimate stoicism, can no longer contain his emotions.
The crowd chanted his name. Messi was crying.
The tears were momentary — Argentina needed him, they always did — but it was impossible to separate them from the broader context: For Messi, wherever he steps at the end of this long career, there will be an unmistakable sense of finality.
Messi is 37 and acknowledged earlier this week that this will be his last tournament. The mood in the Argentina camp suggests it may be his last major tournament. Messi will be 38 by the time the next World Cup, in the United States, Mexico and Canada, begins and 39 during the tournament.
Those endless summer days spent watching Messi frolic on the soccer fields of our souls? They may be numbered now.
Retirement is never an appealing prospect for any sportsperson. It's often said that an athlete only dies twice. Messi's incredible longevity and continued excellence have made him an effective shield against rumors of retirement, but no one can keep running forever. At some stage, everything you do will be the last. Everything comes with a heavy demise.
Clearly, Messi has some idea of what awaits him on the other side of the world. “I'm a bit scared that it's all going to be over,” he told ESPN Argentina earlier this year. “I try not to think about it. I try to enjoy it, even more now because I know I don't have much time left.”
One can only wonder what was going through Messi's mind as he sat on the bench, ice pack on his swollen ankle, his yellow vest covering his blue-and-white jersey, on that stifling, tense night at the Hard Rock Stadium, surely not expecting most of his remaining money to be taken away.
(Juan Mavromata/AFP via Getty Images)
Maybe he simply became a fan then. Maybe the sight of the team playing without him — an image he'd have to get used to for decades to come — twisted his already stiffened guts into new, uncomfortable shapes.
After the match, Argentina coach Lionel Scaloni said Messi did not want to be substituted but the injury left him with no other option.
“Leo has what everyone should have,” Scaloni said. “He's the best player of all time and even with his ankle like this, he doesn't want to play.”
“Not because he's selfish, but because he doesn't want to let his teammates down. He was born to be on the field.”
At least there was a sense of relief at the end. When Lautaro Martinez scored the winner four minutes before midnight in Miami, it was clear that the biggest crowd wasn't huddled around the scorer. The Argentine players were huddled around Messi, their guiding light.
(Juan Mavromata/AFP via Getty Images)
“When you talk about players who have made their mark in the history of football, we try to extend their careers when the end is in sight,” Inter Miami coach Tata Martino said recently. “I think Leo and his family are prepared for when the end comes, and the end comes for everyone.”
For Messi, the end is not yet here. He'll continue playing in MLS once his injury heals, and maybe even help lead Argentina to the World Cup, but this was Messi's tournament finale, another stop on the way to the end. The real end. The day when this ridiculous, magical, laugh-out-loud good little soccer-player fairy leaps into the past tense.
“I'm lucky to be able to do something I'm passionate about,” Messi said in an Apple documentary about his US adventure. “I know that this is my last year and I would miss it so much if it were gone. No matter what I find I want to do, I can't do this.”
There may be no more big finals, no more raw, glorious nights for the country, so he was crying long before the celebrations began. That's understandable.
(Top photo: Juan Mavromata, Buda Mendes, Chandan Khanna/AFP via Getty Images; design by Ray All)
