Just 234 reasons why Messi is greatest
The original keyboard-playing cat. The sneezing baby panda. Twink’s voicemail. Good, if unproductive, times.
This was a week, however, when the here and now could wait its lousy turn. Lionel Messi’s hat-trick against Granada smacked the bottom of the internet and all his 234 goals for Barcelona came oozing out in one dollop. What could you do but stare at it mesmerised? Ordinarily, goal compilations leave me cold. Shorn of context and drama, even the sweetest finish can eventually look as functional as an Argos table.
But this 14 minutes would hang well on the wall of any gallery. A staggering resume of consistent brilliance — particularly over the last four seasons. It’s a body of work that must, even in the eyes of Stevie G, take Leo above Joe Cole in the annals.
Even the video itself served as an allegory; chopped down time and again this week by the copyright police, it popped up over and over; as resilient as it is beautiful. Better again that it’s free of commentary — mortals who find too many things unbelievable have no role to play in the work of a man who doesn’t know disbelief.
We should note, I suppose, that as landmarks go, this was meaningless enough in the scheme of things. Club record goalscorer is, even at 24, a parochial boast, a reminder — if anything — of how surprisingly low the 57-year-old Barcelona mark stood.
Just what was César Rodríguez doing with his time — after all, Raul bagged 323 for Real Madrid and Ian Rush tucked away 346 for Liverpool.
But on the more meaningful nights, Messi tends to slip dutifully into the grand collective of the best ever team, where excellence is only doing your bit.
Those goals then; how can you select a few to chart the anatomy of a superhuman? The first, v Albacete in 2005, was a lob like many others to follow, an indication he had Dennis Bergkamp’s appreciation of space and mathematics. To Bergkamp, the chip wasn’t for show, but expedience. “If the goalie is a little bit off his line, how much space do you have on his left or right? It’s not a lot. And how much space do you have above him? There is more.”
For a time — believe it or not — Messi needed to pass up as many chances per goal as Andy Cole. Piano wire hamstrings left him B-flat rather than A-sharp in the box. Goal number 9, against Betis, rewarded the arrival of persistence before efficiency; the first effort bungled at the keeper, the rebound squeezed in off a post. Evidence no finisher is born finished.
Number 19, let hysteria commence; the dance through Getafe needed only a jogging Peter Reid in the background to mark it identical to Maradona’s signature. And wait, number 24, v Espanol, is another facsimile — a punched finish might be one he’d expunge from the records, but no harm to let us know early he’d rather win wrong than lose right.
Let’s get into his stride. A roll from range against Basel (52) has become a trademark, the geometry of his passed finish as delicately judged as putt from the fringes. The header against United is at 80, another string in a Stradivarius bow. A jump like Pele’s.
Ingenuity — the World Club final winner (96) — was dispatched, not with his chest, but, as Pep Guardiola explained, with his heart.
No 167 is tackled, Dirk Kuyt-style, into Atletico Madrid’s net. Needs must.
There are enough slaloms to fill Ski Sunday — try 113 v Zaragoza or 179 v Madrid — yet immersion in the team is total — a zig-zag with Iniesta confounds Villarreal (145).
There’s nothing you won’t find. The common-or-garden blast (Stuttgart, 110). Set pieces; the free-kick against Atletico Madrid (223) makes no sense in a world of risk assessors. If brute strength and will is your bag, admire his dismissal of four defenders in Leverkusen (218).
And even if he never ever scored a goal at all, there would be enough in his play to make another showcase of assists and team play. As Pep has said: “I’ve asked Leo to be much more than a goalscorer. His role is to participate fully in the game.” It’s a game he has truly mastered.
* Watch: youtu.be/z8-VeCPF-M8
