The greatest story football ever told turns 39 today

On 24 June, the football world celebrates the birthday of a man who changed the game forever.

A little boy from Rosario, Argentina, grew up to become more than a footballer. He became a symbol of beauty, perseverance and wonder. As Lionel Andrés Messi turns 39 today, I find myself reflecting not only on an extraordinary career but on how deeply one man has become woven into the story of my own life.

The wonder begins

I first saw Messi during the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

I was a teenager then. I did not understand tactical systems or appreciate the finer details of football. But I understood wonder.

There was something different about Argentina's number 10. The way he drifted past defenders. The way he seemed to see spaces nobody else could see. The way the ball stayed glued to his left foot as though it belonged there.

Watching Messi felt less like watching football and more like witnessing poetry in motion.

That World Cup changed something in me.

Soon, I was following his journey at Barcelona, where every weekend became another opportunity to witness the impossible. Dazzling solo runs. Impossible goals. Defence-splitting passes. Nights at Camp Nou that felt closer to theatre than sport.

Over time, Messi stopped being merely my favourite footballer.

He became a part of my life.

More than a footballer

To me, Messi is football.

Not because of the records, the trophies or the statistics. Those can all be measured. What made Messi special often could not.

He represents everything football should be: simple, beautiful and pure.

He never demanded attention. He never chased headlines. While others spoke, Messi played. While others celebrated themselves, Messi let his football speak for him.

And it spoke louder than anyone else ever could.

In my eyes, he has never been just a footballer. He is an artist. A Picasso with a football. A man who painted masterpieces not with a brush, but with a ball at his feet.

Former tennis world number one Victoria Azarenka once said watching Messi felt like watching a video game come to life. That description always resonated with me because it captured exactly what millions of us felt.

The calm before the burst.

The pause before the impossible.

His genius was never confined to goals and assists. It lived in the tiny details: the body feints, the subtle touches, the sudden accelerations and the passes that seemed to arrive from another dimension.

Whenever Messi played, the world paused.

And if you loved football, you watched.

Through glory and heartbreak

Over the years, I followed every chapter.

I celebrated the record-breaking seasons, the Champions League nights, the hat-tricks and the moments that left entire stadiums in disbelief.

But I also lived through the heartbreak.

The 2014 World Cup final.

The Copa América disappointments.

The endless criticism from people who somehow expected even more from a player who had already given everything.

Yet my faith never wavered.

Because Messi never played for validation.

He played because he loved the game.

And perhaps that is why so many of us felt connected to him.

The night the dream came true

If there is one date that defines my journey as a Messi supporter, it is 18 December 2022.

That World Cup final in Qatar was more than a football match.

It was the culmination of years of hope, heartbreak, faith and longing.

When Messi finally lifted the World Cup trophy, I cried.

Not simply because Argentina had become champions.

I cried because football had finally corrected its greatest injustice.

Even after Argentina's shocking defeat to Saudi Arabia in the opening match, I never stopped believing.

Somewhere deep inside, I felt certain that this tournament belonged to Messi.

The final against France tested every emotion imaginable. Joy. Fear. Hope. Despair.

But Messi endured.

He scored.

He led.

He inspired.

And when the penalties arrived, I believed fate would not betray him again.

For once, it did not.

Watching Messi kiss the World Cup trophy felt like watching a dream become reality.

Not just his dream.

Mine too.

Still writing history at 39

And somehow, the story is still being written.

At the 2026 FIFA World Cup, taking place during the month of his 39th birthday, Messi has once again reminded the world why he stands alone.

Against Algeria, he announced Argentina's title defence with a stunning hat-trick.

Days later, against Austria, he scored twice more, guiding Argentina to the top of their group and surpassing the all-time World Cup scoring record.

Thirty-nine years old.

Still deciding matches.

Still rewriting history.

Still making millions hold their breath whenever the ball reaches his feet.

At an age when most footballers are memories, Messi remains a headline.

The human behind the genius

Javier Mascherano once observed that Messi's abilities often feel beyond human.

What makes that observation remarkable is that Messi himself remains so profoundly human.

Despite all the records, all the trophies and all the adoration, he has never lost his humility.

That may be his greatest achievement.

His football often feels supernatural.

The man himself never does.

Now, as he enters the final chapters of his career, I cannot help but feel a quiet sadness.

One day, there will be no more Messi matches.

No more moments that make us leap from our seats.

No more nights spent waiting for one touch, one pass, one glimpse of brilliance.

The curtain is slowly descending.

But some legacies do not fade.

And Messi's legacy is far too bright to disappear.

Pep Guardiola once suggested that people should stop trying to explain Messi and simply enjoy watching him.

Perhaps that is the best advice anyone has ever given.

Because some things are too beautiful to analyse.

They are meant to be experienced.

The privilege of living in Messi's era

One day, I will tell my children about him.

I will tell them that I lived in the era of Lionel Messi. That I witnessed not just greatness, but wonder. That I watched a boy from Rosario overcome every obstacle placed before him and become the greatest footballer the world has ever known.

I will tell them about the goals, the assists, the trophies and the tears. I will tell them about the long nights, the heartbreaks, the criticism, and the moment he finally lifted the World Cup.

And if they ask me how good he really was, I will smile and say, "If Lionel Messi had been the captain of the Titanic, he probably would have nutmegged the iceberg."

Because no statistic can explain him.

No record can define him.

No collection of trophies can fully capture what it felt like to watch him play.

Messi is not just the greatest footballer of all time.

He is a part of my story.

A part of my youth.

A reminder that brilliance can coexist with humility, and that dreams are worth holding onto, no matter how long they take to come true.

And sometimes I think back to that teenager who first watched him at the 2010 World Cup, when football offered countless heroes to follow.

I am proud of the choice he made.

Happy Birthday, Leo.

Thank you for the memories.

Thank you for the joy.

Thank you for everything.