The sadness at CR7 and Messi’s departure from the national team is nothing when you realise they will still be playing

It is worth noting that on the day of Leo Messi’s farcical farewell to the national team, Cristiano Ronaldo surpassed not the infamous 1,000-goal mark, but the threshold of the ridiculous, with his ‘explanation’ on social media regarding his escape from Portugal’s training camp ahead of the Nations League match against Denmark. On the one hand, a ‘high-profile’ friendly against none other than Benin, the usual goal from the usual penalty, various showy stunts with sponsored drones at the end, tears, applause and rhetoric (though I did appreciate the fact that, despite being in Argentina, the celebration was still more subdued than the one following Totti’s final match). On the other hand, an Instagram carousel made it clear that the Portuguese manager Jorge Jesus is a proper bloke, and that CR7 has fallen flat on his face – with both feet, all his pecs and his surgically enhanced eyebrows – into the trap set to discredit his aura and influence in the national team.

I shall not, however, join the chorus of those comparing the ‘endings’ of the two greatest – and most troubled – footballers of the last twenty years – not least because neither of them is actually reaching the end of their careers: Messi will continue to roam the pitches of the MLS, applying to football the saying about the one-eyed man being king in the land of the blind, whilst Ronaldo will persist in scoring goals against the Bedouins in Arabia to keep his tally up. The god of football, however, can be a proper arsehole, as well as a manipulator and a pyromaniac. 

According to reports, an agreement was reached among Cristiano, the Federation and the manager, Jorge Jesus, under which the coach was to issue a public apology for having “warmed up and then failed to field a player of the calibre of Maradona and Pelé”. It was around the same time that many observers felt a bit Argentine, reposting sentimental reels about Messi’s latest match and discussing with great originality the “last tango”, imagining themselves as provincial versions of Osvaldo Soriano; it was clear that Leo’s supporters would have torn Ronaldo to shreds, as if he had even dared to compare himself to Him, for that matter.

A friend of those in power – and therefore of journalists – Messi has long been in the ‘King of the Media’ phase of his career: whatever he touches or does is portrayed as golden. Cristiano Ronaldo is past his best; he puts on a show that’s a caricature of himself. He should have retired a few years ago, it’s true, but he doesn’t deserve lessons in behaviour from sports journalists – those guardians of footballing morality who have been saying for days that CR7 ‘was a great player, but…’, as if they’d been waiting for nothing else.

If there is one positive aspect to these two stories, it is that the day of both players’ definitive farewell to football is drawing ever closer: apart from Messi’s FIFA-orchestrated and media-hyped interlude at the World Cup, neither of them has offered anything truly significant for years. While fans exhaust themselves debating who is the greatest, or whether hard work is worth more than talent or vice versa, Leo and Cristiano lounge about on the pitches, forcing us to express feigned admiration at every tap-in into an empty net or two-metre horizontal assist, as if they were our father and mother to be honoured as the commandments dictate. I state it here and I will not retract it: when they finally stop playing, their persistent mediocrity will have exasperated so many observers that their retirement will be greeted as a relief, and (almost) no one will shed a tear.