The World Cup has left us with two images of Lionel Messi. One is of him in his Argentinian team shirt, holding up the trophy. The other is of the emir of Qatar, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, putting the traditional Arab men’s cloak, the black bisht, round Messi, just before he receives the trophy. The second image showed the rich state, which had bought the World Cup, rubbing in the world’s noses in it. It should always be an indelible reminder us of what happens when sports organisations give in to the power of money.
But the other image tells a story we can all associate with. In a final that ranks as the greatest ever, the greatest player finally wins the one trophy missing from his collection and joins the pantheon of the game’s legends, Pelé and Maradona. The climaxing of the competition reminded us that football can still produce magic, mystery and enthralling drama, and provide the most unexpected twists and turns that uplift us, and, for a few brief hours, make us connect us with strangers.
