Adrián Coria: On the contrary, that rough treatment lit a spark in him; the more they went for him the more he fronted them up.
Ángel Ruani: On one occasion, on the Adiur pitch, we, the parents, were really angry and we asked Gabriel, the coach, to take him off because they would not stop kicking him. On another game, at the home of Velez Sarsfield, they put in a very hard tackle, he fell awkwardly and injured his arm. His mother and my wife took him to hospital.
Quique Domínguez: For Leo, the ones who protected him were the referees. Because he didn’t kick anybody, didn’t protest, or grab players’ shirts, or taunt his opponents … so when they bombarded him, he generated a need to protect him – he was tiny, with a tiny face, mischievous with a smile … and 100 per cent skilful but with a tremendous work ethic. He was the player who ran the most.
Gerardo Grighini: Leo was also very strong. Lots of people would throw themselves at him to try to bring him down, but he was strong, he took it. He fell, he got up, he fell again, and he got up again. Incredible. If any of us fell, we stayed down. And probably started to complain. But not him, he fell and still carried on with the ball. I don’t know where that comes from, one in a million must come out like that.
Quique Domínguez: He never complained, despite the fact that … while the other boys were waiting to be handed their shirts, Leo was the only one who would turn away to remove his shirt, away from everybody’s sight, and put on the red and black number 10. I thought it was because he was embarrassed. The time I did see him, I was stunned – he hardly had a ribcage, it was caved in, looking at his chest was scary. One time he fell and broke and dislocated his wrist, bone problems, he was very fragile; but I never saw him wince, or make any show of pain. He didn’t play the following games, in a competition we used to call the mini-World Cup, but on the first day of the tournament we saw he was carrying a small bag. Intrigued to find out what he had in it, I asked one of the mothers of the other players. She said he had brought his boots and his shin pads with him … So he could play, and he still had 15 days to go with his plaster cast. He said. ‘I know if Quique needs me, he’ll put me on.’ No way!! And then one day, during that competition, I asked him as a bit of a joke if he felt like playing in the second half, plaster still on, and he said yes, but no way would I play him like that. He was a fragile little boy from the outside, but inside he was very strong.
Leo Messi once said, ‘The last time I felt pressure, was as a footballer with NOB when I was eight years old. From then, I come on to enjoy myself …’ He was at that time 23 and had played in two Champions League finals, two World Cups, and cup finals. Never mind those – he left behind the real pressure on a pitch in Rosario.
Gazzo (journalist): Rosario Central and Newell’s were playing in the final of the tournament named after my radio programme, Baby Gol. The game finished 2–2, and in the penalties that followed the kids got to a score of 22–22. At this point the Rosario Central player took his kick and missed. Everything rested on Leo’s feet. If he scored, the tournament would be Newell’s.
Quique Domínguez: Once they asked me what was the greatest characteristic that I saw in Leo, and I said his naturalness. Everything, from the moment he greets you, even though he seems reserved, is natural. At 12, he would finish a game and used to go to the house of his friend, Antonella’s cousin, Lucas, and there he would stay for the weekend. Sometime on Thursdays, after training, he would go to Lucas’s house. For a while, he used to spend most of his free time at Lucas’s! Needless to say, his now wife didn’t give him the time of day. Now he is living with and has a son with the woman he has loved all his life. He did not need to put on a lavish wedding, nothing of the sort. I observe that things with Leo occur naturally, it is all a natural progression. Argentina, the national team, has started to play well naturally, because they engage, get in line behind Leo. My mother died three years ago and she said to me, ‘the difference between a dictator and a leader: a dictator imposes himself, a leader is someone you follow, you choose’. And Leo, without shouting, without making any fuss, is one of those who is followed. When he scored a goal in ‘baby’ football everyone went to congratulate him, but when others scored he also went to hug them. And we’re talking about a Leo Messi who was 12 years old and already in Rosario as much an idol, a star, and a footballing giant at junior level, as he is in the world today. And a 12-year-old does not normally have to handle such risks, or such pressure. For him, scoring those goals, running and dribbling with the ball that way, it was all natural.
Gazzo: The tournament was Newell’s. Leo scored. The winning penalty.
In January 1996, Leo’s team played in the International Friendship Cup tournament, in Lima. It was his first trip abroad. He was nine years old. Messi surprised everyone with his ability to control the ball with technique and balance. Even at that age he had already tamed it. Of course, they won the competition. They gave them the trophy in the shape of a dolphin. But he suffered in order to play in the first match.
Gabriel Digerolamo: When we got to the airport the parents of some of the children of the Peruvian side were there. We were shared out and each family took charge of one of the boys, a bit like a lucky dip.
Kevin Méndez (son of the family that put Leo up): One night he had some barbecued chicken and it made him ill. The next day, he could hardly move and the following day it was his game.
Gabriel Digerolamo: Leo was practically in tears, sick and with symptoms of dehydration.
Kevin Méndez: So when Leo got to the pitch, he fainted and the trainer said, ‘you play the game and I’ll take Leo to hospital’. Hearing that, he regained his composure.
Gabriel Digerolamo: We gave him an isotonic drink and within half an hour he was on the pitch doing keepy-uppies.
Kevin Méndez: He drank a Gatorade and asked to play. Newell’s won 10–0, and he scored eight goals, just in case there was any doubt that he was the best. Before he left he gave me his shirt.
William Méndez (Kevin’s father): At a supper we asked him and another boy from there what their objective was. We are Argentinian: where we go, we win, and then we go home.
Gerardo Grighini: On the pitch he would pout if we lost, the few times we did lose; he did not like losing one little bit, always wanted to win, to the point that sometimes there would be arguments, even sometimes on the pitch. If we were losing, he would convert his anger into a way of winning games – he would pick up the ball and make sure we left the pitch having won. I remember that happening on various occasions.
Adrián Coria: He had a lot of pride.
Gerardo Grighini: One of the things I remember most was a tournament we played in the countryside. We went to Pujato and after 10 or 15 minutes we were 2–0 down. Leo got nervous, very nervous. With just eight or nine minutes left, he scored three goals. Just like that. The other day I was watching a game that Barcelona were losing and I said: ‘Son of a bitch, you’re getting upset!’ I recognised the face! Just like before! And then, just like before with three or four minutes remaining he stole the ball and found himself facing the keeper and almost saying: ‘Fuck it, I will sort it.’ He would kill me or anybody if he lost, he would be unbearable!
Adrián Coria: He had to put his seal on it. It hurt him when he lost. In the kickabouts he liked to pick the teams. Every footballer who reaches the top has that thirst to succeed, that thirst for glory.
Gerardo Grighini: We lost a championship – in the Arteaga tournament, which is like a mini-World Cup that you play when you are 11 – and it was my fault. We beat everyone, 8–0, 9–1 and so on. We got to the semi-finals where we played against a team selected from the Ardyti league, which is a local league in Rosario with eight or nine teams. The match started, their goalkeeper cleared it upfield – I was playing central defender at the time – but he hit it further than I thought, and I touched it on with my head into the path of the opposing forward who was running behind me. He scored … They then put 11 men behind the ball and it became impossible. W
e lost 1–0 in the semi-final. Leo was furious. Can you imagine? He didn’t speak to me for two or three days. No way, he did not like losing. No way, no way.
Quique Domínguez: In the ’87 team, also called the ’87 A, I got the impression that Mazzia, another forward who sometimes played with Leo, was a bit of an individualist. I never knew him well enough to say that he would have been competition in the long run for Leo, but he certainly could have competed with him in things like technique, control. But I had to prioritise the team. It’s like an apple, and perhaps this is not the best comparison, like the bruised apple in the basket. What I was looking for was for Leo to take all the weight of the team and this kid, Mazzia, to do the same but in another category. So I moved him to ’87 B so that if he grew and looked like he could overtake Leo, then that really becomes a problem for the two of them to sort out the following year as they would meet up again on the 11-a-side pitch. At that stage, football is more cold-blooded, it’s hard, nobody greets each other, childhood is over. And the fathers are not there to protect you and what is more if a father did poke his nose in, he would get dirty looks. Natural selection – whoever survives reaches the next level. Leo did survive, Mazzia didn’t.
Gerardo Grighini: The forwards finished every game fighting with Leo, because he wanted to score more goals, and they wanted to score more goals … He loves having the ball, and if he could he would play with two balls, one for him and one for the rest – if I put myself inside his head, as to what he was like then, when he was with us … it’s like this, that’s how it was. We were given an instruction by the coaches that made us feel bad: Adrián Coria told us that Leo could do what he wanted, and we became jealous! ‘Why him, and not us?’ we would ask. Give it him, he would say, so he could do what he wanted. It was the easiest option.
Quique Domínguez: At Malvinas, we were always, ‘hi Leo, how’s it going?’, a hug, a kiss, a handshake. To him and to all the kids. And when he finished training he never wanted to leave. And this pleased me very much. At times the mosquitoes would eat us alive, and the fathers would gather in small groups; at other times it would be the middle of the night, damp and misty. And he just wanted more football
Claudio Vivas (coach, NOB): When we played in a neighbourhood tournament he would come to Malvinas. Behind pitch one there’s a quincho (a little open outdoor shelter, often used for barbecues) and, next to it, some tables where people eat, chat, drink. ‘But, Leo, you can’t play here, there are people eating, you’re going to break something …’ He would be told all that, but no reaction. As soon as the game finished he would carry on playing, you couldn’t stop him. Or he would ask his father to take him across to the two earth pitches opposite so he could continue playing with friends.
Adrián Coria: Ball against the wall, and again, and again … they used to say to him: ‘we love this wall, we look after it, we paint it, we try to avoid getting it dirty, you know? Calm down, you will be playing soon, take a breather’, and him: bang, bang, bang. Another coach said to me, ‘there’s no way of stopping this boy, he spends all day playing and he wants to play when the sun has gone down. And with no lights. When everybody is asleep.’
Ernesto Vecchio: And if he was ill, the same. One day he was at the Adiur pitch, after he had been ill, but wanted to come on anyway. I had him sitting on the bench, we were losing 1–0, and there were five minutes remaining, so I asked him if he wanted to play. As soon as he said yes, I said to him, ‘good, go out there and win me the game’. Needless to say, we won.
Claudio Vivas: He likes football, watching and playing. His family lived close to the Central Córdoba stadium and I used to go and see my brother-in-law who played for them. And I saw Leo often there. Central Córdoba is like an Alavés or an Eibar, a team of the district, a second, third division team.
Quique Domínguez: And so … there have been players in the academy who have been phenomenal, out of this world, and have found themselves stuck in the lower divisions and have not made it. Leo, at 12, was already a player out of this world and continued being so. That is so hard to achieve. Life has gifted me the chance to have been able to coach three fantastic players at that young age: Maxi Rodríguez, ‘Billy’ Rodas and Leo Messi. Of the three the one who had incredible potential was Billy.
Ernesto Vecchio: His parents were always with him. You could always spot his father behind the goal. He never said a word, nor did he mix a lot with the other fathers.
Quique Domínguez: Leo was the son of all the other fathers and the brother of all the other kids. And not just in my team, in any other team he had been in. Leo’s mother would be the type to stay with a group, but normally Jorge, his dad, would be on his own, standing to one side.
Ernesto Vecchio: We went to the Cantolao tournament. In the 1987 team, we had Leo. And in the 1986 team, Gustavo ‘Billy’ Rodas, who later became famous for having made his first division debut at 16. But, well …they had different personalities. Sadly, I look at where Rodas is now, I think playing in Peru, and it is sad to think that he had some extraordinary talent and could have made it to the highest level.
Quique Domínguez: I say that my great attribute – and I will always boast about this – is to have protected and developed what the players have brought along naturally. Leo, it’s like, how can I put this … like a work of art but with a famous provenance, that cannot fail to succeed, impossible. Because there are footballers, and we have the example of our greatest ever idol in the past, Diego, who are brought down by drink, parties, an inflated ego, disagreements … Leo is not one of those.
Scene Three
On a dark set a video is projected.
youtu.be/I2rpU8AIKN0
He is ten years old. His team-mates are looking for him. He is the one wearing the red and black number 10; the number covers the whole of his back. With one touch he controls the ball before sending it away from the goalie. He doesn’t blast it, rather, places it in. Then he passes the ball from outside the area and gets into the box to receive it back from his team-mate. Just as he’s done so many times before. And since. Later, straight from the kick-off, he dribbles past one, then another and a third and as he gets to the edge of the area gets away a shot. This time it’s saved by the goalkeeper. A ‘brick’ passed to him becomes a ball again once it is touched by his left foot, he opens his body up and scores with a cross shot. He scores another goal from a free kick, one with his right foot, one with his left. After stealing the ball, after dribbling past several players, after lobbing the goalkeeper. He rushes to embrace his team-mates. At the final whistle, the humbled opponents approach him to ask for a photo. Or to ask him to do some keepy-uppies. Everyone stops to watch as he reaches 100-plus touches.
Quique Domínguez: We used to warm up with the ball around the pitch, so when they played they would recognise what they had in front of them as a ball, not a brick. You know what I mean? Sometimes Leo would be in charge of the warm-up. I would do the paperwork, they would sign it and I would say to Leo, ‘take them out’, and Leo would trot up to the pitch. If Leo moved his leg this way, they’d all move it that way. They went down to the ground, Leo with his knee like this, and everybody did the same. But it wasn’t something I imposed on them, or that he told them to do; it was because he was the one they wanted to copy, a model to follow, it was natural. The image I have is of a mother duck with her ducklings following her.
Gerardo Grighini: We did not have a single leader. There were about 16 of us in the group, and quite a few of us made decisions. Leo, of course, and I also had a strong voice in the group, Leandro Benítez … Lucas, Leo’s cousin, maybe not so much, he probably followed the three of us. There was another one, Juan, who also wanted to lead, but when you’re kids you sometimes clash and … well, he was not allowed to lead. Leo was not an all-powerful leader, imposing his ideas, but, rather, someone who was the best at football and had to be followed.
Adrián Coria: He used to listen to the coach’s instructions. He was respectful. He took it in. He neve
r said, ‘I play the ball’, never said, ‘I’m the best’. His team-mates loved him. But …he did not like exercises. He loved the ball. And only I had to punish him in training. I’m not an ogre or a sergeant major, but I’ve always liked seriousness. We were doing a rondo when he started touching and playing with the ball. I called out to him once, twice, but he ignored me. In the end I said to him: ‘Give me the ball, get changed and go home.’ Ten minutes later I saw him with his bag on his back leaning against the wall, looking at the pitch. I was sad and it hurt me to see him like that. ‘You left without giving me a kiss,’ I shouted at him. He came back, kissed me, and I sent him back into the dressing room to get ready for training again. He was a shy boy but stubborn, but that was the only time I had to speak that way to him.
Quique Domínguez: Do you see those players who try to do a onetwo, and although what comes back to them is more like a brick than a ball they carry on running? Leo did that. A lot of them would have stopped halfway if they didn’t get it back the way they wanted.
Ernesto Vecchio: One very sunny Saturday afternoon at the Malvinas, we came up against Pablo VI. He received the ball from the goalkeeper, and accelerated from our area, going past players and around the rival goalie, who, in the act of trying to stop him, fell and twisted his ankle. The boy let out a cry of pain, which Leo obviously heard, and, instead of putting the ball into an empty net, stopped, turned back and not only went to help him but also got the referee’s attention so that the goalie could receive treatment. That stuck with me.
Messi Page 10
