To you, the one we love: Lionel Messi

A week has passed since that fateful announcement: Thank you for all the love over these past 20 years. I will miss hearing you while I’m out on the pitch. Now, I’ll be just one of you, cheering and supporting from the sidelines.

We asked you to be superhuman, and when you could not, we burnt your shirts, forcing you to retire, only to beg for your return

But I wonder if it is ever possible for you to be one of us. I mean, none of us scored 125 goals or won a World Cup. All we have done is don the blue and white jersey with your name on the back, glued to the TV, hoping for a moment of magic; and somehow, you always delivered. But then, we became spoiled. We asked you to be superhuman, and when you could not, we burnt your shirts, forcing you to retire, only to beg for your return.

10 years later, we find the world in a similar state. A retirement following a lost final in the MetLife. But this time, the feeling is of melancholy rather than despondency. The 4-year-old, who saw you weave through defences, was happy that this time, you could retire with 193 G/A, as the highest scorer of the national team, 2 Copa Americas, 1 Finalissima, and 1 World Cup. The teenager was happy that he could witness all of it. Not just the trophies, but the hat-trick against Ecuador to qualify us for the 2018 World Cup. The comeback against Egypt. The assist vs Netherlands. The hat-trick vs Brazil. But as I reminisce, the 20-year-old regrets that he can no longer experience the thrill of La Pulga. I wanted to scream one last time; I wanted to sing Muchachos in Buenos Aires, and I wanted to see one last moment of magic. But perhaps it’s for the best. A thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts; it is beautiful because it’s temporary, and I can only consider myself privileged to be born in the era of Leo Messi.

If a Bangladeshi residing in England can feel this much emotion for someone I never even met, how many people have you actually touched?

Some may celebrate your retirement. After all, there are countless fans whom you have moved to tears simply by performing like a maniac against them. But there is not a single person who will not be touched by your story. From being compared to Maradona at 18, to losing 4 finals to that day in the Maracana to that Night in Qatar, you overcame one hardship after another en route to immortality; and I am glad that I could witness that journey in its entirety. But I also wonder, if a Bangladeshi residing in England can feel this much emotion for someone I never even met, how many people have you actually touched? Countless would be my guess. To quote Sofia Martinez:

“There’s something that no one can take from you and that is the fact you resonated with Argentinians, every single one. There’s no kid who doesn’t have your team shirt. No matter if it is a fake, real or made up one. Truly, you made your mark in everyone’s life and that to me is beyond winning any World Cup. No one can take that from you and this is my gratitude for such amount of happiness you bring to a lot of people.”

So, thank you, captain. Enjoy your rest.