Who is the greatest GOAT of them all? And how do you measure greatness anyway? We invited our writers to rank their top 10 greatest athletes of all time, and asked some to write about their favourites. We’ll publish one GOAT a day this week. On Saturday, we’ll reveal our top 50, based on our experts’ votes.
GOAT Lionel MessiCredit: Matthew Absalom-Wong
What’s the best way to convey the profound sporting and cultural significance of Lionel Messi, the greatest player in the history of the world’s most popular game – and, by extension, the greatest athlete we’ve ever seen?
I could tell you how it feels to watch him in the flesh, as I did at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar, a tournament that almost the entire planet was willing him to win.
Before Argentina’s first match, I was in the room for a rare Messi press conference, an event in itself. I watched how this very reserved, rather impish and visually unimpressive dude walked out onto the stage and instantly turned a gaggle of grown men and women into worshippers begging to touch the hem of his garment. He could go to any part of the world – literally anywhere – and elicit the same sort of response. I can only imagine what it’s like in his home country.
Lionel Messi after Argentina’s win against France at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar.Credit: Getty Images
I was there at the Ahmad bin Ali Stadium on the night Messi put the Socceroos to the sword in the round of 16, his 1000th career match. The grandstands were four solid walls of light blue and white stripes; save for the 11 blokes in green and gold, every other person there, it felt like, was wearing an Argentina jersey, and 99.9 per cent of them had “MESSI 10” on the back. In the match, he was quiet until he wasn’t, which is usually how late-era Messi performances go. One minute, it feels like he’s under control – and then you realise it’s an illusion, another part of his genius you hadn’t fully appreciated, and while you’re busy realising that, he’s ghosted away from his marker for half a moment, and suddenly, you’re a goal down.
We could also talk numbers. Seven Ballons d’Or (a record) won over a 15-year span. More than 800 goals, and more than 40 major trophies across club and international soccer. No athlete in history has dominated to such an extent, or for so long, in a sport so universally played. You could argue that’s because he’s never been in a bad team. I’d argue the teams he played in were good because of him.
Speaking of which: we could drill down into the 17 phenomenal seasons he spent at Barcelona, where he became the club’s all-time leading goalscorer, and was the centrepiece of arguably the most exhilarating side football has ever seen, which played a style (“tiki-taka”) that was as aesthetically pleasing as it was brutally effective. A creator, dribbler and finisher all in one, Messi was at his absolute peak at Barca, playing as a “false nine” alongside a core of other La Masia graduates under Pep Guardiola, his movement bamboozling the world’s best defenders on a routine basis. But it never felt routine; it was mesmerising every time.
Maybe the best way to do this, to appreciate the full scope of his impact and influence, is to go back just a few months.
In March 2024, Messi’s current team, Inter Miami, played an exhibition match against a Hong Kong XI. (There’s another achievement: making children around the world instantly demand from their parents a garish pink Inter Miami jersey, with the mere stroke of a pen turning an otherwise plasticky MLS franchise into a club followed by millions. I could go and buy a knock-off jersey right now, if I wanted to, at the shopping centre up the road from where I live in Sydney.)
The whole extravaganza at the Hong Kong Stadium revolved around Messi, of course. Two million people tried to buy around 38,000 available tickets, which sold out instantly. Around the same number of people paid a minimum of approximately $110 to watch him train.
The problem was that he didn’t play. He was injured. Unfortunate timing. Fans were chanting his name from the first whistle but eventually realised he wasn’t coming off the bench, and so those chants turned to boos, and then “REFUND! REFUND!” – and then white-hot outrage. An hour after the match ended, the Hong Kong government issued a statement calling for an explanation, while other politicians were saying things such as: “Hong Kong people hate Messi, Inter Miami, and the ‘black hand’ behind them, for the deliberate and calculated snub to Hong Kong”. Chinese state-run media questioned whether this was a planned slap in the face by American state actors.
How many athletes are capable of triggering a genuine diplomatic crisis … by not even actually doing anything? Maybe another Argentinian star Diego Maradona, the only other who comes close.
And there’s one more remarkable thing: Messi did (and is still doing) all of this despite the weight of being labelled the “next Maradona” from a young age. Imagine an Australian cricketer being called the next Don Bradman at 17 … and then actually living up to it?
You can’t. Because there’s only one Lionel Messi. And we’re all just lucky to be breathing the same air.
News, results and expert analysis from the weekend of sport are sent every Monday. Sign up for our Sport newsletter.
