Messi (49 page)

Suddenly Leo began to see some of the consequences of his new lifestyle. He had an accident with a van in Barcelona. Having crashed, he faced the indignant owner who, fortunately, a fan, was happy to reach an agreement. There were stories of incidents in Barcelona nightclubs. The ‘Rohaldinho effect’ was paying dividends, but not ones that would be helpful to Leo’s career.

Ronnie was teaching him what he should and shouldn’t do as a professional. ‘He was the best coach for Messi,’ says ten Cate today, who tried to prevent him from messing around with the wrong crowd. ‘The Ronaldinho group had a different life philosophy.’ It was not a good one for Leo, and ten Cate told him as much on various occasions. Silvinho would remind him that there were more important things in life than going out at night. Leo would listen and assume the look of an innocent child.

The Messi family would frequently go to the Argentinian restaurant Las Cuartetas in Barcelona where Leo’s celebrity would attract attention. On one occasion, having finished his meal, Jorge left first, leaving his son to brave fellow diners demanding autographs and photographs. ‘Should I rescue him?’ asked one of the waiters. ‘No, no, let him get used to it. In situations like this he must not forget who he is, he has to learn to live with this,’ answered Jorge, always aware of the fine line that divides the father from the manager.

On another occasion, when they were leaving the Camp Nou car park, a group of fans was seen waiting for the stars to come out. Ronaldinho sped past. Next came Leo, with Jorge beside him and he too accelerated. His father told him to turn round at the next roundabout and go back to the fans, roll his window down and sign autographs for everyone who wanted one.

Who would speak like that, a father or a manager? Either way, Jorge was showing him, reminding him, that there was another way to be a star. Leo Messi, just like all footballers, had his adolescence stolen from him by his dream of being a footballer. Or, to phrase it slightly better, he had a very brief adolescence: the time he was with Ronaldinho. But the muscular injuries, a consequence of his
disorderly lifestyle, demanded different behaviour from him. In the 2007−08 season, one that was full of collective failure and disappointment, he had to recognise that he could not carry on the way he was going.

‘They were enjoying themselves,’ says Joan Laporta. ‘They loved being together, the style of play. There was a lot of happiness, but, as they say, what goes up must come down. And that year it all came crashing down. We can find a thousand and one reasons, but everything was a part of normal evolution. And Leo learned plenty, because he tasted glory, even though he did not play in the final in Paris, and the pain of the injuries made him realise a great number of things about himself. I have never seen any bad intentions from Ronnie; on the contrary, he was a really genuine guy. And he also liked enjoying himself, it is true, and whether you like it or not that is not incompatible with being a footballer, because first and foremost they are human beings.

‘Afterwards,’ concludes Laporta, ‘your own life puts you in your place. Leo reacted in time. He had the time and enough natural intelligence to say: “now I need to correct this.” And he stopped getting injured.’

The very public changing of the guard was unfolding. The arrival of someone new and a clean start was also needed in order to make Leo Messi the best player that he could become. He had to free himself. Of ties, and friends who distracted him.

The club was going through a very tense political phase at the same time as the sporting hiatus was occurring. Sandro Rosell, vice-president from the first few years of the Joan Laporta era, resigned over a clash over how the club should be run. He had been working in the shadows, preparing a vote of no confidence against the president. The team had qualified for the Champions League semi-finals, where they would face Sir Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United with Cristiano Ronaldo, Paul Scholes and Carlos Tévez. But in Catalonia that knock-out game was interpreted as the end of an era that might even change the board of directors. ‘You do realise that if you don’t win today, it will be very difficult to continue, don’t you?’ Txiki Beguiristain was asked on a programme on TV3, a channel usually friendly towards the club.

‘The opposition had been capable of generating such a level of stress and tension, with the press firmly on their side, leaking rumours and creating needless distractions. It led to hysteria in the club,’ remembers Ferran Soriano. The tension was not just one man’s perception either: two weeks before the first leg, while the team was playing at the Camp Nou, thieves broke into the offices and stole Laporta’s computer, and the same thing happened later on with the database containing club membership information. Laporta was being attacked from all sides.

The semi-final second leg was played in Manchester, after a 0–0 draw in the first. At Old Trafford, on the way to the board of directors’ lunch, Joan Laporta had a premonition: ‘I have a feeling that our necks are on the line, today is going to be dramatic, today is the end.’ That day the president betrayed his emotions in the VIP box during the game in a way he had never done before.

Ronaldinho had mysteriously disappeared from Rijkaard’s squad by then – he had nothing more to give the team and the Dutchman left him out of the squad. That fixture saw the first duel between Leo and a shy Ronaldo who, having disappointed so far in the big games, was required to play number 9 against his will. Messi was the better player at Old Trafford, orchestrating Barcelona’s dangerous attacks. Paul Scholes scored against the run of play and Leo could have equalised, but Van der Sar thwarted him. The match was very even, but there was the inescapable impression that the team was just a shadow of what it had been and would soon be broken up.

Duly eliminated by Manchester United, the year ended very badly. Third in the league, Barcelona finished 18 points behind Real Madrid and had to perform a guard of honour for the champions at the Santiago Bernabéu; they therefore had to play in the Champions League qualifying round the following season. In the Copa del Rey semi-finals they were eliminated by Ronald Koeman’s Valencia, who would go on to win it.

Rather than consider ‘how we should look after Messi’, the board of directors had to decide what to do with Frank Rijkaard, and how to overcome the growing number of enemies. But the changing cycle clearly had to be enacted through the Argentinian, as Joan Laporta recognised in an exclusive conversation with the author for this book:

As soon as that season ended, Joan Laporta drove to Castelldefels. To Ronaldinho’s house. Ronnie knew what it was about; the president had already told him that changes were planned if the team did not win anything. Pep Guardiola had told the president that he wished he could have changed him back into the player he once was, but did not believe it was possible. Laporta considered it the president’s duty to communicate the decision, face to face, to the player who had changed the history of the club. ‘Ronnie, we think the moment has come for you to end your time here at Barça.’ The conversation between the player and the president was an emotional one. Ronaldinho’s sister was also present.

The World Cup two years earlier was discussed. Joan knew that it had touched him deep down and that he had never understood why people reacted so negatively towards him after Brazil’s failure. The three of them viewed the situation as unfair, the criticism over the top, but Ronaldinho had not recovered from that.

‘Ronnie, our expectations have not been met and, as I told you, we can no longer remain together. Milan want you, Manchester City want you, you have to make up your mind,’ Laporta told him.

Laporta had already spoken to Roberto de Assis, Ronaldinho’s brother and agent, in case Barcelona reached this decision. The most interesting deal in financial terms was the City one, but the club that attracted the player more was AC Milan, who ended up signing him for €25 million.

Ronnie told Laporta that he understood. He would choose a team. He was happy Laporta had come to tell him personally. He could not forget how, at Christmas time, many people, in and outside the club, wanted to get rid of him, but Laporta had convinced them to let him finish the season. Out of respect and gratitude, Ronnie deserved it. That is what the president thought and he said goodbye with a hug that made him cry. And Ronaldinho, too.

When Joan Laporta left Ronaldinho’s house, he gave a big sigh, a combination of sadness and relief. He took his phone out and dialled a familiar number. ‘Listen, are you at home? I’m coming round. I want you all to be the first ones to know something.’ He
had called Jorge Messi who was at home with his son in the house next door to Ronaldinho’s. Another decision had been reached by the board and he wanted to inform them.

Laporta knew that the relationship between Leo and Ronnie was special, and had decided to tell the Argentinian first-hand that his friend was not going to stay at the club. And that the board wanted Leo to become the focal point of the team.

‘Leo must take the lead, take over from Ronaldinho,’ said Laporta with all the gravitas the occasion demanded. ‘Accept responsibility. The number ten shirt is all yours.’

Leo lowered his head while they spoke about his friend, but he accepted the challenge. He knew it was what he had to do in professional terms. Laporta understood that he had to generate some enthusiasm with his new star: if he could manage it, he would win him over to the cause. He told him the home-grown players were going to be given more important roles and he also shared with him the technical staff’s plans. The coach would be Pep Guardiola. ‘Pep is going to understand you, he knows the club inside out and thinks you are a machine,’ said Laporta. Dani Alvés and Eric Abidal had signed and Gerard Piqué was close to joining them.

‘Sign Piqué, Mr President, sign him, he used to protect me when we played together as teenagers,’ said Leo.

A question became inevitable now that he was going to become the new solitary figurehead. ‘Who else would you bring in?’ Laporta remembers asking Leo. Deco and Motta were to be sold: two more friends going. Maybe Eto’o, too. The team that was forming was, in theory, solid, but needed the approval of the new focal point. Leo’s family also participated in the conversation; it was a moment of mixed feelings. They saw the sadness the inevitable transfers of his friends caused Leo. They remembered a particular game in which their son scored while Ronaldinho was recovering from another injury, and he raised both hands, displaying all ten digits as a celebration. It was for the departing number 10, for his mate. But they also wanted to make Leo see that it was in his best interests that Ronaldinho should leave. And that the new acquisitions and decisions on the group dynamic were going to help him.

Leo saw it that way, too.

Frank Rijkaard and Ronaldinho arrived at the club at one of the most difficult moments in its history, and managed to bring FC Barcelona back to the position and standing they deserved. The people in charge of the team, management included, opted for a long-lasting football model and the final downward spiral, led by a number of bad decisions, was, ultimately, the consequence of success. Often, sadly, that is more difficult to digest than failure.

Both Frank and Ronaldinho accompanied Leo on his journey through adolescence, both showed him ways to be professional, new codes, but also one-way paths from which Leo managed to find his way back. ‘When I arrived he was a boy,’ says Eidur Gudjohnsen. ‘Two years later he was a man. The number ten fitted him like a glove. You won’t see him training in the gym, or doing many extra hours. But he carried with him the one thing that is so hard to obtain: he knew that it was his time. And he grabbed it with both hands.’