Read 6 minutesNew JerseyUpdated: 20 July 2026 09:16 PM IST
Even the bright sun over MetLife Stadium lost a touch; The bright blue sky faded, streaked with gray. With Lionel Messi mourned by the elements, his dream shattered and his last act on the grandest stage ended in a tragic twist, reminding the world of the triumph of the collective over individual brilliance. Messi, the most brilliant footballer of all time, tried his best to fulfill his country’s dream of defending the title. But Messi is human and mankind has failed against a smooth running machine in human form.
He fought back the tears, he sat on the floor, crushed and collapsed, the dream crumbling before his eyes. Not even once in the tournament could he change the script of his destiny, his team or his country. He dragged himself to his feet, staggered toward the tunnel, politely accepting hugs and handshakes. But then he stopped in the crowd, shouting his name aside from the pain in their hearts. He stopped and waved. He was comforting them. But something had to give. Messi wept, perhaps not because of his personal grief but because he had failed his countrymen today. No one will crucify Messi for this defeat, he was the only reason they got this far, but only himself.
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Messi paid the price for being Messi, almost single-handedly igniting the public’s imagination, making them dream again of an impossible title, of a third star. Perhaps, if he had said goodbye in Qatar, his dream would have been fulfilled, fulfilled by destiny.
America was a gamble, but a beautiful one. When the winds of change carry away the debris of fate, the world will thank Messi for his final blow, for the impenetrable sorrow of his World Cup exit. Perhaps, the World Cup in the USA is for tragic heroes—Roberto Baggio in 1994 and Messi in 2026. The two men running the solo show were confused until the last note.
Messi (10) reacts after the World Cup final. (AP Photo/Ashley Landis)
His nature would hurt him more than defeat; Insignificant bursts of creativity, chaotic and stiff defending, clumsy tackles and disruptive fouls. A regimented defensive pack had bolted him, stripping him of the ball and creativity. He could not create a single chance; He could not touch the ball even once inside the penalty box. The penetration and accuracy of his crossing and passing was unmistakable. Until this game he was half a man. Certainly not the way Messi wanted to hoist the trophy again. For, Messi’s game was an immersive experience, capable of inducing a rout due to the aesthetic quality of his dribbling.
When Messi cried, everyone around him cried. Parts of the Argentina crowd literally booed. In the press conference room, Lionel Scaloni choked for words and sobbed uncontrollably. He praised and thanked Messi. “I hope everyone is proud of him, what he has achieved because he is the best footballer to ever step on the pitch. I have no doubts about that and what he did during this World Cup was incredible. But also what he did before,” he said. People around Messi cried. His loss was theirs too. Spain fans also put their celebrations on hold to cheer for Messi. The music stopped. Only the most stone-hearted audience would have been unmoved by the poignancy of the moment.
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But nothing will tarnish Messi’s legacy. Stripped of the immediacy of defeat in the final, he was the most defining figure of the World Cup. It is unfathomable to imagine a footballer with two decades of unbroken influence, unwavering relevance, single-handedly carrying the burden of our nation’s hopes.
Diego Maradona had a decade of his ideal years, interspersed with occasional years of inconsistency. Pele’s Brazilian feat was at the age of 14, back in the days when football leagues weren’t as frenetic as they are now. Messi had Messi. Messi the runner; The Walking Messi; Winger Messi; False Nine Messi; Playmaker Messi; inside forward Messi; Holy Messi; Provocative Messi. Most footballers would argue if they could perform successfully in just one of these aspects.
Messi will be amazed at the contradictions in life. In his prime, with a cast of stars by his side, his four-year campaign in the tournament ended in tears. Except for the 2014 final, Argentina’s relegation has been maddeningly premature and utterly miserable. He was drained and disappointed at the thought of folding his Argentina shirt forever. His grief was beyond emotion. Only the deepest chambers can recognize pain and anger, emptiness and despair.
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When the winds of change carry away the debris of fate, the world will thank Messi for his final blow, for the impenetrable sorrow of his World Cup exit. (AP Photo/Matt Slocum)
But sports middle age was kind and shining. He was 35 years old in Qatar, most of his brilliant colleagues were gone, the manager was not an intellectual, but nameless and unknown, but in the winter of his career he lit a torch of fire, an unstoppable, smoldering flame that went on endlessly. He came back as best he could. The supposedly flat-lined peak rose again, like the undulating waves of an ocean.
Athletes come with use-by dates, 10, maybe 15 years, before they fade. Even the great Roger Federer fought against time, heart and intellect, yet he could not rekindle the spring of youth. Usain Bolt missed due to leg pain. Sports glory is fleeting. Messi was the exception, not defying age but how he embraced the inexorable course of time and continued to reinvent his game for productive longevity. But Donald Bradman’s last game, like Federers last Wimbledon final, had a tragic ending. Immortals in games are also wrong. And the sun on MetLife lost its shine.