I don’t like Lionel Messi. There I’ve said it, I have gone and stated that the chosen one; the greatest ever player to pull on a pair of socks doesn’t do it for me. Le Petit prince, the Little Argentinean gets on my nerves.
Why? You may say. I’m glad you asked. I don’t like the fact this he has the same first name as Lionel Blair, let’s face it since when has a top sportsman been called Lionel? I don’t like the fact that he has the hair cut of a 1970’s US college nerd. I don’t like his face either; for a so called legend he’s no Beckham, Ali or Pires. He looks like a stout Copernicus. I don’t like the fact that he looks so pleased with himself when he scores; he does not celebrate in a cool way. In fact, on the subject of cool, he is so unutterably uncool; which is not cool.
I don’t like the fact that he plays for a club that are as pleased with themselves as he is. A club that competes on an unfair playing field, a club that has players such as Daniel Alves who is to sportsmanship what Hitler was to childcare. I don’t like the way he runs; like a plump toddler speeded up on super 8 film.
What I also don’t like about Messi is that he is being compared to Pele, Maradonna and Zidane; do me a favour! Win a World cup, win a league that is contested fairly by more than two teams then we can talk about it. All the above mentioned were around when there were more than a dozen absolute quality players knocking about yet they managed to be the cream of the crop.
What I dislike the most about him is that he has attained the status of a Christ like figure within a footballing landscape where there is little competition for the title of greatest; there has never been such a dearth of truly world class players as there is now.
So come on all you disciples of Messi, show a bit of perspective; yes he’s good, there’s no denying that, but let’s make judgements later down the line.
And if you think I have been unreasonable in my dislike, then you are wrong; I just don’t like Lionel. So there.