In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Green-Eyed Monster.”
“Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.”
First of all, its not the money. What you do comes with that, but its not about the lifestyle. You are the best there is, potentially the best there has ever been.
Every week, sometimes twice, you step out in front of tens of thousands of people, and are showcased to tens of millions. They chant your name, wear it on their backs. They come to one of the worlds most best known venues, and create its wonderful atmosphere. They come for many reasons, the experience, your team, the opposition. But if you eliminate all of these different reasons to find one area of common ground. One thing they have all come to see with equal excitement, expecting thrills, something they will never see anywhere else. This one thing they want to say ” I have seen” That something, is you.
They expect from you. They believe in you. What you have different from all others is that you can deliver. When everyone else turns to you, you find a way.
My respect for you is a shared respect, with my own father, and my Grandfather. We talk at lengths about the feats you have achieved, the near miracles you have performed. Watching you is one of the only things we always make time to do together. I thank you for that. We came to see you, live and in person and like the others I described above, we expected from you, and believed in you. You gave us everything we could have hope for.
To see what a game is like through your eyes, with the speed of your thoughts and the technique you display. You can find others from in near impossible angles, and that feeling of knowing that you, unlike most others, can do it must be something. To be surrounded by opposition, with almost no way out, and then calmly work your way through. To score the goal that changes games, seasons, history, when none else could find a way. To do it almost every game.
I am jealous that no matter how good my very best is, or was, I will never experience one hour with the gift that you have. I assume it cannot be easy. There must be immense pressure at times and times where you loose faith that you can do it all again. But I thank you, for giving me that feeling. That little urge of excitement I get, each and every time you receive a ball at your feet. That I get to turn to my father, my grandfather, and watch their mouths wide, in amazement at what you have just performed, and then share a moment of celebration together.
You, Lionel Messi, do so much more than just kick a ball.