Get out of here.
Anyone who doesn’t think Cristiano Ronaldo should win the 2014 FIFA Ballon d’Or, just get out. Get out of our sights.
What’s your problem?
Why are we even bothering to go through with the formalities of a final three of Manuel Neuer, Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi? Why even bother with an award ceremony and another six weeks of build-up? Give the man his trophy and let’s move on.
We could bore you with stats, pointless stats that we all know. Outrageous stats that somehow we all find so ordinary at this stage. We could decipher Ronaldo’s 50 goals in 46 Real Madrid games en route to a treble of silverware that included the Super Cup, the Copa del Rey and the Champions League. We could even envy how his 23 international goals have edged out the might of Robbie Keane to become the all-time leading European Championships goalscorer. But we don’t need to.
We all know it. We’ve all seen it. And, somehow, we’ve still all accepted it. Accepted the unreal as real, the unbelievable as believable. We’ve seen the supernatural and we haven’t batted an eye-lid. We’ve accepted Ronaldo as mortal.
Messiahs always have their doubters though. They always have their enemies. And, once again, we’re left with a tension-filled stand-off two bitter camps flying each a Ronaldo and a Messi flag as if their lives depended on it. For some reason, we can’t appreciate the God-like abilities of two of the finest footballers ever to grace this planet at the same time. You’re either on one side or the other.
And FIFA don’t help the situation when they throw their Argentine default into the final three of of the Ballon d’Or in what has been an average, injury-hit season by his own ridiculously high standards. Just because they have to. Just because it’s Messi. Just because they want another heavyweight face-off between two of the most undisputed athletes of all time.
Nobody is going to argue against Lionel Messi’s genius. No-one is going to argue with what is an outrageous goal-a-game ratio. No-one is going to compare with the skillset of the most equipped man in football warfare. And you can be damned sure that not one soul on God’s green earth will ever deny Messi his status as a great. A genuine great.
It doesn’t mean he’s immune to criticism though.
It doesn’t mean he’s impervious to – dare say it – the ordinary.
And it certainly doesn’t mean that every five-metre pass the Argentine plays should be greeted with all the wows and oohs and the ain’t-life-grand cries of an adoring football public as if they hadn’t seen any of it before. As if Emile bloody Heskey wasn’t capable of it.
In a trophyless season, Messi is still in contention to be offered the highest individual honour that could ever be bestowed on a footballer. He’s still rubbing shoulders with Ronaldo and Neuer who have been by far and away leading lights in their positions this year. But, you see, when Messi plays poorly, he’s protected behind an impenetrable sheath of blind love – “He’s had a quieter game than normal but by God he’s dangerous, isn’t he?”
He produces the average, the mundane, the typical and it’s lauded as outstanding – see the FIFA World Cup 2014 as exhibit A.
In the summer, for once, the world saw a Messi-inspired outfit on the back foot.
For once, the south American magician wasn’t latching onto endless attacks, teams weren’t sitting back in awe and, for once, we could start to see ever so subtly the effect one of the best players on earth would have on a team that wasn’t all-conquering. On a team that wasn’t Barcelona.
A team that set up defensively. A team that needed their captain.
But, too often for Argentina throughout the competition, Leo was lurking in the shadows.
The truth about Messi’s World Cup – his one saving grace in a low-key (considering) year – was that he was brilliant – absolutely brilliant – against Nigeria. He had a very good second half against Bosnia, he scored a beauty against Iran. That was it. He went missing in the knockouts and, when Argentina needed him, when the going got tough, Messi got going.
It mattered not though because, in an age of commercialism and hype, adidas were there to illuminate Messi in his dark days of mediocrity.
The player of the tournament award going to the Argentina skipper wasn’t short of pathetic.
In reality, Messi wasn’t Argentina’s best player, never mind the world’s. He wasn’t even their best attacker. Ronaldo and Portugal certainly weren’t much better throughout their three group games but the Madrid star has done it all year, in every competition with his club and he has broken more records on the international scene with one of the most depressing sides ever.
Messi shouldn’t be weighted with those same expectations of a Maradonna for instance – to go and win the World Cup himself – it isn’t his fault. It’s the love-drunk fans who think he can do no wrong.
There’s appreciation and then there’s inflation. Messi’s stock is being unhealthily driven through the roof with every pass in any direction that he makes and it’s the football economy that’s suffering for it. In a time of uber professionalism, athleticism and finance, it’s probably never been harder to produce what Messi and Ronaldo are producing but, this year at least, Cristiano is the only one who has done it week in, week out.
Cristiano is the only one who has done it himself, on the back foot, individually. He’s shown he could do it anywhere on any team.
It’s rare that a talent like Ronaldo can come along every once in a while and shake up everything you thought you knew about the game. Everything you thought you knew about the laws of physics. It’s so rare.
Think about it, really think about. Imagine a day – one horrid, miserable day – when the Portuguese wonder decides to hang up his boots for the last time and all you’re left with is memories. Memories of one of the all-time greats and an uppity attitude that you were one of the generation lucky enough to experience it all and marvel in it; that that the new crop of footballers – whoever they may be – wouldn’t have laced his boots.
And, with any luck, you’ll not be whinging about the 2014 Ballon d’Or controversy. Because it should be as straightforward as one of his bullet-like 55 goals this season.
In a time of controversy at FIFA headquarters. Please do this one right thing. Please make us believe in football again. In the supernatural, even.
