Messi, my love, my ‘lover’!
It was 2006 and I was a Grade 8 student in a missionary school. I stayed at the hostel. A missionary boarding school means strict discipline. Forget about electronic devices, we hardly were allowed to watch television! Other than our school books, everything else was more or less out of bounds. Break the rules at your own peril!
Me? I always had the notoriety of being the rascal since childhood and that stigma remained with me at the missionary school too. I had brought a World Cup magazine with me from home at one time and would surreptitiously read it whenever I could. That was when suddenly in front of me loomed large this picture of a young 18-year-old Argentine player.
Not very tall, he stood there, brown hair, a rather silly smile on his face, wearing his No 19 jersey. This was Lionel Messi. Born in the town Rozario, Argentina. My surname, Rozario, I was thrilled! I liked him! It was that proverbial ‘love at first sight!’ At first sight I bundled up my heart and soul and handed it over to him.
I slipped Shyamal da of our hostel some money to buy me scotch tape. I carefully cut out Messi’s picture from the magazine and laminated it myself. I would show the picture to anyone and everyone, saying a new player would be playing for Argentina this year. He is my love, my lover! Everyone would laugh, but my class friends had full support for my craze.
World Cup 2006 kicked off. But how was I to watch the games? TV was a no-no. The match would begin in the evening. But I was no one to be defeated so easily. I pretended to be going to the tap outside to wash my plate and slipped and fell – on purpose. My friends were well aware of my act. By the afternoon I was moaning and groaning in ‘pain’ and my hostel super sent me home. Yes! I have hardly ever been so happy in my life. I thought to myself, the things I do for my love! And Messi may have been my love at the time, but he still hadn’t become the ‘Messi’ by then.
If I was mesmerised by Messi’s picture in the magazine, I was all the more so seeing him play. Okay, so I hurt myself to watch the first match. How would I watch his other matches?
The next match arrived. I could not be found at the study table. I couldn’t be found anywhere in the hostel. This time I had not even confided in my friends. The sisters (nuns) had a two-storey convent building next to our hostel which had a TV in the hall room downstairs. There was a rose garden outside of the hall room, other trees and shrubs. The game began on the sisters’ TV. I tiptoed barefoot, crept under the water tank and quietly watched the game. It was hard to see clearly from that distance, but I could make out the Argentine team, I could clearly see Messi. That was enough. Of course, I had to pay the price. Mosquitoes had feasted on me in the garden and I landed up with dengue. I wonder if any other 13-year-old girl went to such lengths to watch Messi play!
I would cut out Messi’s pictures from the newspaper Prothom Alo and its supplements and stick them in my scrapbook. That too was quite a struggle. We weren’t supposed to read anything other than our textbooks, so I had to find a way to get my hands on the newspapers. The moment the sisters would sit down for breakfast, I would rush to the hall room, with two of my friends on guard. I would tear out all of Messi’s pictures from the newspapers. Luckily there was no CC camera there or I would have surely been expelled. The sisters did search for the culprit who has left their newspapers with gaping holes where Messi’s pictures had been!
Quite some time after that, another picture of Messi appeared in Prothom Alo. But this time he wasn’t alone. He was with his girlfriend Antonella Roccuzzo. They were vacationing and the paparazzi had caught up with them. I burst into tears and that was one picture I refused to add to my collection. I was hurt and heartbroken. After all, Messi was mine, and mine alone!
Messi is now married to that girlfriend and they have three children. It is 2022 now and the World Cup is on. That 18-year-old boy is now all grown up. I too laugh at my younger crazy self. I used to tell my friends at the time that I would learn Spanish, would write poetry for Messi, would become a sports journalist. Then I would go to interview him one day. When he met me face to face, he would fall head over heels in love with me. The rest…
The boy for whom I grew to love football is now playing in his last World Cup. From 2006 to 2022, Messi and I have been through so much in these 16 years. Had it not been for Messi, I would never have had my puppy love, my young crush! Some things are to remain out of reach. Even the happiest person in the world has regrets. That’s life!
If I am lucky enough, one day our paths will cross. What will I do that day? I will read this writing to Messi in Spanish. Best luck and love for the rest of the matches, my childhood love, Leo!