(Left) Argentina’s Lionel Messi reacts during a qualifying soccer match for the FIFA World Cup 2026 against Paraguay; Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo gestures during the UEFA Nations League soccer match between Portugal and Poland. (AP)
Late last week, Cristiano Ronaldo reminded the world that glory has not departed his goal-scoring boots. Against Poland, he struck a delightful bicycle kick. Across the Atlantic, his timeless peer Lionel Messi has been essaying hat-tricks. Even after their departure from the mainstream football map, they dwell in footballing consciousness, and continue to pull eyeballs to the games and leagues they inhabit. Primarily this is because they were not just the finest of their generation, but two of the greatest of all time, cutting across eras. Partly, this is because they have left an unfilled vacuum in European football.
It’s difficult to fill in the throne they have vacated. They have refined their yardsticks of greatness to such an elevated space that even greatness in any other milieu would seem plainly ordinary in these times. It’s like the sprinters after the Usain Bolt era, or the racquet-wielders after the farewells of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. Like in tennis and athletics, there is no definite undisputed answer to the question: “Who is the best footballer in the world?” Even during the Messi-Ronaldo era, there were always personal favourites, depending on allegiances, but most would have unanimously jotted one of the two names when settling the greatest debate, setting loyalties aside.
It’s different now. There is no singularly ahead-of-the-pack great footballer, For seven years, Kylian Mbappe was the prince touted to strut around with his sceptre. But post World Cup, he has plateaued. He couldn’t repeat the World Cup feats in the Euros; his early months in Spain had been shaky, his team six points adrift of arch-rivals Barcelona, the form in Champions League rickety, the record champions reeling in 18th spot. His insuperable talents have only flickered in fits and flashes. There are those that doubt whether he is more hype than skills, more glitter than steel. He could mute the cynics, but in his present form, he is far from the greatest of his time.
The other preordained inheritor was Neymar, who at 32 could have been the jewel in the crown of football now. But his talents have withered, slipping down the slope with the peak in sight. Injuries, lack of ambition, fatigue, the reasons are myriad, as he shuttles between the cities of Saudi Arabia. For all his feats—the league and the Champions League titles, the goals, sorcery and pay-slips, he would remain a semi-fulfilled talent.
What the world is left behind with are two groups at either end of their careers, There is the early 30s group—the likes of Mohammed Salah, Kevin de Bruyne, Virgil van Dijk, Harry Kane and Antoine Griezmann drifting to the sunset of their careers. All have already achieved legendary status for their club and country, and could still accumulate trophies. But they are also diminishing forces. Salah is still prolific but without the sprite of the pre-pandemic season. De Bruyne, arguably the finest attacking midfielder around, is a force on the wane. His passing range still compensates for the waning pace and aching bones.
Bafflingly, there are but a few in the 25 to 30 age-group, barring Rodri, the recipient of this year’s widely contended Ballon d’Or. There were only six in that age-group in the 30-man shortlist. Rather than a shortage of talented individuals it’s a case of some of them not being recognised for their highly specialised roles. Like City’s Bernardo Silva, who is something in between a creator, goal-scorer and disruptor. Or perhaps, they are reeling in the giant shadows Messi and Ronaldo had cast. Or it could be that they are systems’ players in an era of system fixation. It’s not the most fertile period for free-spirited individuals. A classic case is Paul Pogba, immensely gifted but could not function in a system.
Then, there is the under-25 group. Those that are en route to conquering greatness rather than those that already have. There are a group of riveting teenagers—Spain’s Lamine Yamal helms the chart, followed by Turkey’s Arda Guler and Frenchman Warren Zaïre-Emery—and a clutch of early 20 somethings like Jamal Musiala, Vinicius Junior, Jude Bellingham, Eduardo Camavinga and Erling Haaland.
It’s a diversely gifted group, just as it was during the early years of Messi and Ronaldo, when they were just two of a broader group of future greats that featured among others Luka Modric, Gareth Bale, Karim Benzema, Thomas Muller, and Marcos Reus. Their journeys would be as fascinating as that of the era before. Among them, Yamal is already billed as the future. Few would disagree, be it his vision, range, trickery, and maturity.
But it would be better for the game’s appeal that there is no monopoly or duopoly, rather more variety. Like in the pre-Messi-Ronaldo era, when you could sift through a bunch of names and debate from dusk to dawn, and yet find no conclusive answer. Like in the aughts when you could pit Ronaldo (R9), Kaka, Ronaldinho, Zinedine Zidane, Paolo Maldini, Andrea Pirlo, Dennis Bergkamp and Gigi Buffon and still not decide a clear winner. From 1990 to 2007, none claimed the Ballon d’Or more than once (even though the award is drawn subjectively and not the ultimate stamp of recognition). So perhaps, it is better for the game that there is a horde of suitors for the throne than just two monarchs settling the score amongst themselves.
