Messi (44 page)

Twenty minutes from the end, a free kick from Ronaldinho was deflected off the head of John Terry, under pressure from Rafa Márquez, into his own goal. The sides were level at 1–1
.

And eight minutes later, the Mexican central defender took the ball from his own half before putting in a cross to the far post that was met by the head of Eto’o to secure a 1–2 win. José Mourinho’s first defeat at home in 49 matches
.

‘We got our revenge for the previous year,’ says a smiling Ten Cate as he recalls the game
.

Leo had had five shots on goal, one of which struck the crossbar. He was involved in the sending-off and added intensity to the play of the brilliant but inconsistent Ronaldinho
.

No, it wasn’t a game for Messi. In theory. But the Argentinian showed up at the Bridge before Barcelona did. He was born a star in that most decisive of scenarios. ‘The best appearance in world football for many a year,’ wrote Santiago Segurola in El País. The crowning moment in a game for grown-ups
.

His performance made such an impact that Ronaldinho and Eto’o, voted FIFA’s first and third best players of the year respectively, were treated as secondary actors He had climbed not one but two steps up the hierarchical ladder. After his display against Udinese, and the excellent game at the Bernabéu, his performance at Stamford Bridge was to have a universal impact. And not surprisingly at home as well: no one was going to take his starting place now. Giuly began to appear only occasionally in the team after that match
.

José Mourinho started to play the second leg at the press conference. ‘It’s easier for you to see it than me,’ he responded to the journalists when they asked him about del Horno’s sending-off, ‘because you have monitors. I think it’s better if you say what happened, because I don’t want to find myself in a difficult situation. The result is 1–2. What can we do? Are we going to suspend Messi for being theatrical? Yes, he was theatrical. Catalonia is a place of
culture and they [referring to the Catalan media] know what theatre is. Theatre is good.’

The Camp Nou would receive Mourinho two weeks later with a bit of cultural advice: ‘Go to the theatre, Mourinho, go to the theatre.’

In the return leg, Leo began the match stuck on the left-hand touchline, but just a few minutes into the game he began to make his way from the left into a more central position; he could stand the heat and he wanted to get into the kitchen, where the goals were created
.

Then, suddenly, with 25 minutes played, he collapsed on the pitch
.

He was injured. A pulled muscle
.

He beat the ground in frustration. His fragile body was going to keep him out of the game again
.

Rijkaard went over to Leo on his way to the dressing room. And he gave him a hug. Leo’s right hand went around the waist of his coach and he buried his head in the Dutchman’s coat. He wanted that embrace. Needed it
.

Barcelona drew 1
–
1. But qualification for the quarter-finals [where they would meet Benfica] had come at a cost: Messi’s progress had been stalled once again
.

Messi had felt a sharp pain when he collided with William Gallas, but he carried on, hoping it was nothing. There was no contact with any other player at the moment he fell to the ground, just the realisation that he was injured and it wasn’t just a spasm. When in 2010
Goal.com
asked Leo Messi to identify the two key moments in his career, what came to mind was that night in the Camp Nou: ‘My first major injury.’

A torn muscle at the top of the femoral bicep in the right leg, the muscle that sprinters depend on to give them an explosive start and one with which Messi will become very familiar. A four-centimetre tear, said Barcelona. Five, said the press. It was the second injury in the same muscle that he had suffered in a month. The first one had kept him out of action for twelve days, following a return to fitness which, with hindsight, had been a little too accelerated. This time he would be out for between four and six weeks. A month and a half later he was still not ready. Leo, who had played 25 games that season, finally spent 79 days away from the training ground.

They say in football that muscular injuries do not occur by chance, that they are all avoidable. If a muscle gives way it is because something has gone wrong in the warm-up; or it’s down to a player’s lifestyle, or the lack of attention he pays to his body. Perhaps Messi, despite being rested the previous Sunday for the game against Depor, arrived with accumulated muscular fatigue. Perhaps he had not recovered sufficiently from the previous muscle injury. Some say he had not warmed up properly. The clash with Gallas might have affected it.

But the fact is there are no definitive scientific tests that can explain muscular injuries. Only suspicions and fears, and the need for some precautionary measures. The club has to take some of the blame because at that time they didn’t monitor the condition of the players as exhaustively as they do nowadays: they had accumulated twenty similar muscular injuries in three seasons with twelve different players affected.

When he was appealing for calm over Leo, Frank Rijkaard had all this in mind.

Certainly Messi did not know his body’s limitations then as well as he does today. It didn’t bother him if he finished a game with his ankles and legs scarred, with his feet covered in bruises or with cuts, blisters and grazes. It was the life he had chosen, all part of the game. But two injuries in a month suggested that something else was going on. It didn’t sound alarm bells but Leo did begin to ask where all this was coming from.

The answer wasn’t simple, but Messi did not have to look very far to discover it. When he arrived in the first team, still an adolescent, in his life off the field he began to relax.

It wasn’t a case of too much partying, rather one of order. Or lack of it. In his eating, in his personal timetable.

Also, Leo climbed the ladder of success too quickly; everything had got faster and this distracted him. Maybe he was mentally prepared to move forward more quickly than the majority of players of his age, but sudden changes in physical demands, and the new strains imposed by playing in an elite team, were difficult to assimilate. Every few months at a new level brought new challenges; the game became faster as he progressed, the battles harder, the tempo higher; there was more public attention, a greater need to win, an
increasing response to greater expectations. And the first team was a place where to survive as a professional it was essential to take special care of yourself, to keep regular hours, to eat healthily. Vital requirements if he really wanted to shine.

Sometimes you have to make mistakes to find out what your limitations are.

Sometimes Leo would eat at La Masía with Barcelona B and then later on again in one of the Argentinian restaurants. The usual menu there would consist of a couple of
empanadas
(pies), always meat. And then a Scaloppe Milanese. He was so fond of the 200 grams of meat dipped in egg and breadcrumbs with tomato sauce, with ham and cheese, cooked in the oven, always with chips and always without salad, that in the restaurants he frequented it was known as ‘la Milamessi’. And, to finish, ice cream made with sweetened milk and chocolate. Occasionally he would vary the
empanadas
and Milanese with a plate of meat ravioli. Always washed down with water or Coca-Cola. He did not touch alcohol.

The waiters used to joke with him about it: ‘a bit of fish would do you good.’ To which he would answer. ‘Yuk! Fish is for the water.’ If fish or meat wholesalers happened to offer him a case of Argentinian king prawns as a gift, Leo insisted that they give them to his father – but they should bring some Argentinian meat next time. On occasions he would go to the restaurants to eat on Sunday at midday and go on from there to the ground, especially when Rijkaard in his last months at the club allowed players to arrive at the stadium just before the games. And after the
empanadas
, the Milanese or the pasta, off to play. ‘By the time I get there I’ll have digested this,’ Leo would say.

If there wasn’t a game, after training he would have a long siesta, wake up at about four and eat a pizza. Then some
conguitos
, peanuts covered with chocolate. And if he was thirsty he would drink a litre and a half of Coca-Cola. A complete lack of nutritional control. He lived the life of a student.

Leo resembled a luxury car that ran on petrol but consumed diesel. Occasionally you can get away with it, but eventually the engine will seize up.

The irregularity of this lifestyle came to the attention of the board who considered watching over his growth, making sure he ate better,
became stronger. ‘You should be able to plant this guy in the ground so no one can pull him up’ was a comment heard in the boardroom. But, despite the concern, during this period nothing special was done to make Leo change his habits. In fact, both the club and the player waited at least a couple of years before making the decisions that would prompt him to face up to the importance of nutritional and dietary control.

While he was recuperating, the year that could have been Messi’s was becoming Barcelona’s: Benfica had been eliminated in the quarter-finals, so they faced Milan in the semi-finals and the league was in their pocket.

Leo was now facing a race against time to be fit for the Champions League final. It was to be played on 17 May, ten weeks after his injury. If everything went according to plan, he would be fit.

  
5
  

Frank Rijkaard: The Decline

Leo believed he would be fit for the Champions League final.

‘T
he two of us would train together, morning and afternoon,’ Juanjo Brau, Leo’s personal physical trainer, explains. ‘Physical work and physiotherapy in the mornings, gym in the afternoons. Every day.’ And he would swim. And the rest of the time he would spend at home, resting, sleeping. For one month, every day. He had to be fit. He could not miss the big date in Paris. And on top of that it was World Cup year.

On 10 April, one week before the first leg of the semi-final against Milan, and five before the final, Leo Messi was finally ready to rejoin the group training sessions. He had missed the previous six league matches and both legs of the Champions League quarter-final. If he responded well, Rijkaard intended to take him to Italy but leave him on the bench, only using him to stir things up in the second half. Leo felt ready for anything.

Ten Cate was not as clear on the matter. Before the first group session, he asked the medical team about ‘the Flea’. The player had the medical all-clear but doctors recommended that Messi should do individual work. Messi insisted that he
was up for training as normal. Ten Cate took him to one side.

‘Leo, I’ve spoken to the doctor and you’re still not 100 per cent. You run the risk of missing more matches.’

‘No, I feel fine!’

Coaches will always say that, ultimately, it is the footballer who has responsibility for his own body, that he decides if he is fit for training or not. Only they know what they feel inside. Fifteen minutes into that session, Leo felt comfortable and decided to take a free-kick.

Ten Cate called out to him not to. ‘Leave it, Leo. Just in case it gets any worse …’

Leo launched the ball over the bar. And he felt the muscle go again.

A new tear in the same place.

In his leg and in his heart.

The club said that Leo could play again before the end of the league season, as it was not a tear, but nobody risked a prediction on his precise return. The injury to the femoral bicep of his right leg, they explained, needed more oxygen than it was receiving.

The official statement read: ‘During the last phase of treatment he has experienced discomfort in the scarred area and significant muscular fatigue. Therefore it has been decided to continue with the treatment guidelines and muscular reconditioning which will last until the player can resume training without symptoms. As things stand he is out of the next game.’

To get the true gist of the medical report you had to read between the lines. What the doctors meant was that Leo was inexperienced with such muscular injuries. His desire to play was akin to punishing himself. Leo had come back earlier because he wanted to get back on the pitch as soon as possible. His sprinting muscles required lots of oxygen and the healing was a slow process. At his age, they concluded, it was only natural that he did not know how to read his body, and that he imagined that he was better than he really was.

Leo did not want to speak to anyone when he got home. Something had failed once again. The latest tests confirmed that it was a new rupture, even though the club wanted to hide it. So it meant restarting the recovery. With Juanjo Brau. Physical work and physiotherapy in the mornings. Gym in the afternoons … the same routine.

Leo and Brau went to Rosario, well away from those who wanted to get him back onto the pitch too soon, away from distractions. In Argentina they watched Giuly’s goal against Milan, which put Barça through to the final. He celebrated it only with a muted ‘Goal!’ He could be fit for the final, perhaps on the bench. He would definitely make it. He carried on working hard to do so.

Time was ticking away fast; there was not long to go. The final was on 17 May, five weeks after his last setback, three after the semi-final.

In early May, Leo felt well enough. Juanjo Brau told him to be patient.

Messi asked Rijkaard to include him in the squad, and started training with everybody three days before the final against Arsenal in Saint-Denis, Paris. Leo trained with the first-team squad on Sunday at the Camp Nou. And again on Monday. Two days before the final.