It is 11:26 p.m. on a Thursday night in downtown Atlanta. Everywhere you look there are no signs of anyone looking to go to bed. Wherever the eye can take you all you can see is chaos.
Bright lights shine from above, ready to bring alive whatever can be captured beneath them. It is there where hundreds of accredited media await the appearance of arguably one of the most famous people on the planet.
Welcome to the ‘Mixed Zone’ when Argentina plays, where it’s hard to know whether you should be thankful to be there or distraught at the genuine inhumane scenes that take place. If pigeons, who spend their lives nodding in search of a crumb on the ground and fighting off anyone who comes close to it, could bond with any humans this is their crowd.
If you are unfamiliar with such a concept, essentially this is where players are told to walk through a gated area, where media try to get you to talk to them on the way to the team bus that leaves the stadium. For years, footballers have mastered the art of avoiding the media. Experiencing many of these scenes, it is not hard to understand why.
Few do talk, and for those that do a scrum essentially appears in front of them as ‘the media’ clamours for anything to come out of their mouths.
As the clock ticks closer to 11:30 p.m., it is clear the ratio of the pigeons with a pass is essentially 100:1 when it comes to finding crumbs from the Argentina or Canada players.
Ángel Di Maria is one of the first out, smiles, waves and doesn’t stop. Emi Martinez gives a quick answer to a friend and before everyone else shuffles over to gather around him he has disappeared. Crumbs have vanished.
Many players hunt and avoid in packs. Close to a dozen Argentina players come out together. Screams for the media to all of them do nothing in their pursuit of the bus.
A couple more stop and give very little. In the meantime, a few Canadian players give a lot more than crumbs. Alistair Johnston, who could talk for Canada if he wasn’t an excellent footballer, fills the plate for any media member willing to listen. Maxime Crepeau, Jacob Shaffelburg and others do the same.
Alexis Mac Allister glides through the mixed zone with the same kind of panache and style that he graces Premier League pitches each week in England. A smile on his face, he addresses many and suddenly the pigeons are getting fed. Or should be.
There is a big problem looming, however. With lights flashing, microphones under his chin and questions being thrown from afar, a nervousness continues to creep amongst the crowd. As Mac Allister speaks, heads move left and right as if a Wimbledon tennis final has just broken out in the concrete jungle of a mixed zone inside the Mercedes-Benz Stadium.
No one can concentrate and everyone is thinking the same thing.
‘Where is Messi?’
And then suddenly he appears, except you don’t see him at first. From a distance a noise breaks out that gets louder and louder the closer he gets. Barriers that distance the media from the players start to move, shouting turns to screaming and then he appears. With a smile on his face, he navigates them with the same kind of calmness we have seen for years on the field. He briefly stops three times to answer a question and never loses his cool despite a rush of media members, some even dressed in Messi shirts, doing what they can to get photos or for him to sign something.
Messi’s walk, and occasional pauses, through the bird sanctuary, couldn’t have lasted any longer than five minutes, but it was a masterclass in how to handle an uncomfortable situation and the change in mood when he leaves was noticeable.
Where other players showed no interest or a genuine anxiety to get involved in it, Messi handled the moment with grace and was always in control and comfortable. Clearly, he has had enough time to get experience in these settings, yet the ability to find a low heartbeat when everyone around him is raising theirs is an astonishing life skill.
Imagine just for one moment what it would be like to be like Messi. Just as we should never take him for granted on the pitch because we get to see it regularly, his presence and interactions with others for someone of his stature are mesmerizing and refreshing. He carries an aura around him, yet it is not tainted by arrogance. Many of the greatest sports athletes in their field required such a single-minded drive to reach the top that they were never taught or cared to have self-awareness. People would flock to celebrate their sporting accomplishments, but so many would never want to really spend time in their presence, knowing full well they would be disappointed.
This is a key, often understated, uniqueness of Messi that not only makes him such a global superstar, but also one that garners reactions that we have seen all week in Atlanta. Wherever he goes, he has a remarkable power to bring out a feeling in human beings that they cannot always explain but want more and more. It is why so many of his matches now in the United States often have a unique football atmosphere. Many fans do not come to react to moments that often bring out the flavour of a contest – the highs and lows of a game, a referee decision, a competitive tackle. Instead, they wait until Messi receives the ball, often accompanied by a roar of anticipation even if he is 40 yards from goal and is about to play a sideways short pass to a midfielder. Voices find new levels of pitch the closer he gets to goal or to a microphone here in the barrels of the stadium.
As Messi disappeared into the Atlanta night with his teammates, he headed back to the Westin Hotel, approximately a ten-minute drive away. A brief time to enjoy calmness before a raucous crowd awaited him again as he steps off the bus. For hours, people have been standing at the back entrance of this hotel all week just to get a glimpse.
This may be Argentina, the current World Cup Champions who clearly have other world-class players, but these scenes follow them around because of one man and it’s bigger than football.
It is, perhaps, fitting that the most unique footballer that has ever graced this planet is just as unique in how he makes people feel once he leaves their presence. As he gets closer to the end of his footballing career, that is something that will never leave him, even in football retirement. In a world full of great divide, greed, anger, jealousy and hurt, when the boy from Rosario, Argentina appears he leaves people united in happiness and gratitude to be in his presence. You could be a fan, a volunteer, a teammate, you could be an opposition player, or coach, you could be a media member, or even just a pigeon with a pass, but when Messi is around people are happier, have more gratitude and life is better. He is the best player to play the game, but the emotions he brings out in others, while far more impossible to track than what he does with a football, will ultimately be his most important impact.