He should be finished. Football’s cruellest law says so: no
39-year-old has any business dictating a World Cup. Nobody told Lionel Messi.
The little Argentine maestro has turned the summer of 2026
into one last, glorious middle finger to Father Time, and last night in Atlanta
he produced the sort of stone-cold miracle that has made grown men cry into
their beers from Rosario to Rawalpindi.
Two goals down. Eleven minutes left. Written off. Buried.
Done.
And then: BOOM. Messi happened.
Picture: Re...
