The Timeless Genius of Lionel Messi

By late Wednesday afternoon, the roads in Barcelona were starting to clear. Though still an hour away from my destination, I was anxious to catch the start of the Argentina-England semifinal. My concern was intensified by the thought that this might be Lionel Messi’s last beginning.

Meanwhile, in Atlanta, the match unfolded indoors, shielded from Georgia’s heat. Messi moved with his customary patience amid the frenzy. The game commenced with fierce battles: rushing feet, urgent pulls, and lunging tackles as players vied for control.

England’s younger players pursued the ball relentlessly. Amidst this motion, Messi walked. At 39, he is among the senior players in the tournament, sprinting less frequently and covering less ground. Messi’s anticipated final World Cup match looms on Sunday.

Argentina has often scrutinized Messi’s genius in past tournaments, holding him accountable for setbacks. Yet, his influence on soccer is undeniable. He transformed the sport, redefining not only what a player can achieve with the ball but also what can be anticipated before the ball’s arrival.

A match has multiple layers of time. There’s the obvious official clock. But there’s also a subtler timeline in which a defender tires, a midfielder loses an edge, or a passing lane stays open a moment longer than expected.

Messi’s slow pace allows him to observe this hidden clock: tracking who shadows him, who ceases to do so, and where new opportunities appear. What everyone else sees is the visible match, while Messi taps into the one concealed within.

Messi doesn’t walk to exit the game; he walks to immerse himself in it. This approach was the same at 29 and at 19.

Young Messi’s myth was his speed: his low center of gravity, the ball seemingly convinced rather than controlled, darting into spaces that seemed to appear only as he approached them.

Even then, his true skill was seeing the game quicker than anyone else.