Bucket List

He had been waiting for this day all his life. The ticket was bought well in advance and kept as a precious treasure in a duffel bag he always carried. As he made his way through the miles of crowds that day into the stadium, said his prayers before taking his seat and waited patiently for the match to begin. Wearing a green casual jacket over a white shirt, with a dark shade over his eyes, this short man with long unkempt beard looked very much a suspect. The police had checked his bag over and over again but finally allowed him inside unable to find a single fault with his belongings. The man sat among the ordinary folk with the cheapest ticket available but this was a day he was not going to miss.

The day was 15^th of July 2018

Luzhiniki Stadium, Moscow.

The sun shone bright, two best teams were on the ground below, the stadium had a capacity of 81,000 but on this day it surely looked a hundred thousand strong, singing and cheering aloud. It surely was an ideal setting for the FIFA World Cup Final. On one side were the all conquering youthful Germans in their traditional black and whites and on the other were the Albiceiestes in sky blue and whites, an aging Argentinean squad which was almost man to man same as the one that played the Copa America two years ago.  Same…nearly the same till you looked at their jerseys…there was no player wearing number 10. It had become a part of the team tradition not to give this famous number 10 jersey to anyone. It was reserved for life in memory of the magical man who since had hung up his boots.

As soon as the national anthems of the two nations were played and pleasantries exchanged by the captains, the referee in fluorescent yellow whistled the kick off. From the very first minute the German blitzkrieg was launched. Wave after wave of German attacks were launched from the wings and the centre of the field. This German team did not resemble the hard working, long kicking and fast runs of old. They had under their new coach Pep Guardiola adopted a blend of fine footwork which saw them play the tiki-taka type game yet retaining their originality of speed and strength. On the other side was the brilliant maverick Maradona who had returned to coaching the Argentinean team. But today it appeared the German war machine would steamroll the opposition as flat as the Pampas grassland.

By the 30^th minute, the Germans were up by two goals scored by Ozil and Khedira. But for the heroics of the Argentinean keeper Sergio Romero, they would have been ahead by half a dozen goals. The team in blue and white was listless today. Something had happened which was preventing them from playing their normal game. Forget the game, their free flowing and artistic footwork was completely missing and in front of the mighty Germans they looked more like a B division rag tag team. Maradona was shouting down the sideline and was almost seen tearing away the last shred of hair on his head. Was the defeat of Copa 2016 and lost finals of 2014 and 1990 weighing down on their minds still? Their feet seemed stuck and paralyzed. They seemed most relieved when the referee blew the whistle for half time.

The German fans were roaring as the artist who was to etch the name of the new champion on the fabulous World Cup had already started creating the impression of the impending new champions. The Argentineans’ side was all quiet with little to cheer. Our man in green and white put his hands on his face and appeared wiping tears that seemed rolling perennially. This was not what he had come to see. While the crowds walked out to grab some drinks and bites, our man stayed glued without twitching a muscle or moving an inch from the place where he first sat. He just looked up skywards as if seeking heavenly help.

As the teams trooped into their changing rooms for some rest and refreshments, Maradona quickly grabbed a poster from a young Argentinean fan on his way back, closed the door as he went inside. The men in blue and white were sitting, looking lost and dejected when their fat old coach, who normally spoke to them with expletives and language from the gutters, clapped his hands a couple of times and signaled the troops to circle around as he began speaking as he opened the poster in his hands.

“Look at this picture. This is Messi, our national hero, who stopped playing two years ago. Messi, the greatest Argentinean who ever wore the blue and white shirt. Every supporter of ours in the stadium is carrying not our country’s flag but this very poster. They are not signing the national anthem but chanting his name over and over again. What happened in the first 45 minutes is not what I speak to you about. That’s over, that’s history and cannot be undone. The next 45 minutes each one of you will play with this picture in your eyes. Every time you touch the ball, you touch the Man who we all loved. Today the man has gone missing. No one is able to find him despite all efforts. If at all there is any flaw in this Man’s glorious track record, it would be his inability to win any major tournament in the country colours. This would have played so hard on his mind that he went into virtual oblivion. But no one can deny his genius and place among the greatest of players of all time.

In the next 45 minutes, we shall play for Messi. We shall play to win for Messi. We shall win and surely he will get the news and come back to us. We will run harder than ever before chasing every ball and outrun every German. We shall tackle harder than the bulls in the ring and shall not yield an inch to the Germans while heading the ball or defending our territory. We shall play the Messi way- hold the ball, create magic with our legs, curl the free kicks, pass short and quick and no shot at goal shall miss the mark…we will play to win and win it for Messi. Come here all of you, let us put our hands together on this picture and promise ourselves that we will now play for Messi! Don’t forget we have won this cup thrice and are among the handful of nations in the world to do so. We have history on our side, we have talent on our side, we have heroes on our side and now we have a cause on our side…a cause to set us on fire, a cause ready to die for, a cause that will go out all guns blazing and win.”

The team stood up in unison, came together to put their hands on the picture together and shouted in the loudest possible way, “For Messi”!!

A German scribe who stood outside the Argentinean doors could only hear the last uproar and rushed to the German camp to report, “They seemed to be all down and quiet but at the end heard some loud noises…they possibly are fighting…players against players, coach against the players…all fighting and abusing each other.” The Germans had a mighty laugh but their coach Pep Guardiola told them not to take the match easy. “We have come back from such scores to overturn the match and the opposition has enough talent to do it again. Just sit tight, defend hard and ensure we win.”

Our man on the third tier shifted his eyes on the field below, deaf to the noise around and blind to the mad crowd jostling for space. He sat unmoved, full of concentration as the match got under way. The second half saw the Argentineans kicking off. Normally teams would, after the first kick to the forward nearby, pass the ball to the mid fielders in their own territory but it was different this time. Aguero took off with the ball cutting one German after another. The Germans were completely taken by surprise as they failed to stop the forward dribbling past them till Jerome Boeting, the German defender dived from behind and brought Aguero down. Boeting got a yellow card and the Argentineans a free kick just outside the box. The six men wall was all set and as the referee whistled, Angel di Maria took a couple of steps before unleashing a free kick that swerved into the far corner of the net. Manuel Neur, the world’s best keeper stood there unmoved. As the match re-started the blues and whites were all over. With quick small passes, just the way they do it at Barca, they danced their way into the box and Higuian latching onto a back flick from Aguero shot the ball into the goal. 2-2 was the score in the first 5 minutes of the second half as the Germans stood mesmerized before the completely magical Argentineans who now were all over the ground. The Argentineans nearly scored in the 75^th and 83th minute but the cross piece came in the way.

Three minutes were allowed as additional time as the 90 minutes failed to break the deadlock. As Toni Kroos slipped on the ground, the ball fell to Sergio Aguero who looked up once and took off. Running like a hare, with deft footwork cut five German defenders down, as he came face to face with Nuer whom he shook off with a body feign and calmly pushed the ball into the open goal. He took off his jersey, ran towards the team dug out where he snatched the poster from the coach’s hand and unfurled it to the cheering crowds. There was complete chaos all around as the referee whistled one final time. There were celebrations all around as crackers lit up the Moscow sky. The Argentinean team came together one last time before going up to collect their medal and the trophy, put their hands together one more time on the poster and shouted, “For Messi”!! This time even the German players and crowds also joined the chorus, “For Messi”.

Our man on the third tier was still seen wiping away his tears behind the Raybans glasses but had a smile on his face. Slowly the crowds left the stadium. The celebrations on the streets had begun but our man stayed behind, sitting quite static at the same place as he was when the match was on soaking in the victory. He stayed there till the stadium staff that had come to clean the place literally pushed him out. He went back to the hotel room, opened up the bag and took out a jersey. He wore it with pride as looked at the mirror with a number 10 on his back. Poured himself a glass of wine, raised it in victory and then picked up his bag, went to the banks of River Moskva. He slowly unzipped the bag and pulled out five glittering trophies. One by one he dropped them in the river below and walked away with a smile on his face. Nothing on earth mattered more than what he had seen today. The last thing on his bucket list had been ticked off and he had achieved inner peace. For him the past did not matter. The present did and he could live his remaining life on this one memory of victory as they lifted the trophy and the blue and white flag with the shining sun in the centre was unfurled for once in his life time.

Fishermen on River Moskva were surprised at their catch as they pulled out the net next morning…they had five Ballon D’Or trophies. The crew split one for each of them on the boat. 

SS