ANDThis is not another article about Messi, but something will have to be written about Messi. Saying that you are leaving but in the end staying we have all done. Especially as teenagers, sometime: you got angry with your parents and threatened to leave home. Then you did the math, you saw that it was not so easy and you thought better of it. You couldn’t even cross the threshold of the door.
The fact is that now we all have to share our opinion about Messi. There are people who explain to you why they are staying in the same way that they explained to you a few days ago why they were leaving. There are people who do not know what to have for dinner tonight, but they know what goes through Messi’s head. He already knows what will happen next season, if he will crawl across the grass or if he will win the treble. Yesterday the same person told me both things, one a while after the other, and I am sure that the next time we meet, in the summer of 2021, he will remind me that he had already told me what was going to happen with Messi .
My friend also complained about the journalists, and told me that if Messi had asked to leave Ponferradina, and not Barça, they would not have paid so much attention to him, and it is true, because if Messi had asked to leave Ponferradina we would have called a doctor to see what happened to him, because he would have some kind of mental problem, because Messi does not have any contract with Ponferradina.
Existing is most tiring. Not only do you have to know about Messi, you have to know everything. Back to school, even those who thought that schooling your children was giving them Scolari team matches. Compulsory schooling: see the World Cup in Brazil in 2002, Scolari’s, in full. Leave the study plans to me.
Messi’s handbrake opens the slit for him to Barcelona long live your particular last dance. I think the Jordan moment is the only thing I miss about the confinement. Every Monday morning, with the others sleeping at home, with my Magnum Praliné tub and the lights off, I happily swallowed twice as many episodes of The last dance, the docuseries about Michael Jordan’s last Bulls ring, which looks like a real psychopath – and I think it’s great. When they aired the chapter of their first championship and Jordan hugged the trophy excitedly, Lebron James tweeted that he felt identified. Of course, I empathized more with Rodman, when he was taken out of bed to go to training with a hangover, but better to talk about something else.
My favorite sequence appears in the final stretch. Kerr recounts the murder of her father, the refuge she finds in the basketball, the blessing and respect that is earned from Jordan and the decisive basket in the 97 title, a round story. Then the game ends, they are champions again and they focus on Kerr, who looks at the sky on the edge of tears and raises his arms, lowers them and who does he have at his side to hug? To the pet. To the fucking Bulls mascot. The whole life is in that sequence: tragedy, drama and comedy. I remembered seeing Messi in flip flops in his solemn announcement of continuity. So much the case, my friend used to say: it is impossible to take life seriously.