Though my plan to see Lionel Messi failed, I still scored big: Juan Pablo Spinetto

In an eagerly planned family trip to see Lionel Messi play, unexpected twists transformed Juan Pablo Spinetto’s disappointment into cherished memories. Despite Messi’s injury sidelining him, the spirit of the game and the vibrant atmosphere of a packed stadium offered Spinetto’s family a meaningful experience. He explores the broader impact of Messi’s presence in Miami and reflects on the shifting priorities of this soccer legend, resonating with fans and families alike. His personal recount highlights the enduring magic of soccer and shared moments—even when the star can’t take the field.

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By Juan Pablo Spinetto

It was the perfect plan: I’d use the Easter break to take my two kids to watch Lionel Messi play in a match, the first time they would see the world’s best soccer player – and our family hero.

I arranged the trip with some Argentine friends, bought flights to Miami and rented a minivan to make the excursion up to the stadium. I also went through the increasingly bureaucratic process of purchasing event tickets: Prices for Inter Miami games have skyrocketed since Messi’s arrival last year; we ended up paying $1,032 for the four of us including my wife (or $258 each) — a ridiculous amount for a Major League Soccer regular season match.

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What I didn’t count on was Messi getting injured a few days after I set my plan in motion. Ouch.

By the time we arrived at Chase Stadium in Fort Lauderdale to see Inter Miami take on New York City FC, we already knew the big man wouldn’t be playing. The most we could hope for, if we zoomed in with our phone cameras, was a glimpse of him seated in his sideline box, undaunted.

For a moment, I felt like the Chinese fans who fumed when Messi missed a friendly game in Hong Kong in February because he was unfit to play. But I understand that injuries are a recognizable hazard with football players, particularly when they are approaching 37 years old, as Messi is. Back in 2016 I organized a trip to see a Copa America match between Argentina and Chile in San Jose, California, only to find Messi benched because of a sore back. The disappointment was collective that day.

Yet despite Messi not playing, my kids loved the experience, and to my surprise we didn’t feel underwhelmed. The stadium was packed with families taking their littles ones, 99% of them wearing Messi jerseys, chanting, and sharing a moment of appreciation for a player who made us all happier. The football itself was quite poor — any second-division team in Brazil could give Inter Miami a run for its money — but it didn’t matter much. Even without Messi’s trickery on the field, it was fun family bonding, a chance to spend moments on something you really care about with your loved ones, as one does with any shared hobby or pastime.

At the risk of falling for confirmation bias, I saw Messi everywhere in Miami these days. Inter, owned by retired star David Beckham and billionaire Jorge Mas, is now a Disneyworld alternative for the Latin Americans who flock to Florida every year: If you are into football, it’s almost an obligatory pilgrimage to see its most adored king. It’s definitely not cheap (forget about the tickets; just a quesadilla at the stadium would be $16 plus tip). But what entertainment in the US is cheap these days? And you get the clear sense that this ambitious project is just starting: The opening of a new stadium at Miami Freedom Park next year will be another quantum leap in the quest to make men’s soccer more popular in the US.

I have been obsessed with Messi for the past two decades, since even before his professional debut in 2004. I followed his unrepeatable years at FC Barcelona with passion. I cried at the Maracanã watching Argentina’s national team lose the 2014 final to Germany in Rio de Janeiro, his most painful defeat.

I didn’t think Messi needed to win a World Cup to be considered the best to play the beautiful game. And yet his spectacular coronation in Qatar 2022, when he led Argentina to its third world title after the most thrilling final ever, elevated him to the category of a deity. As commentator Peter Drury put it, he has “conquered his final peak.”

Now nine and five, our two boys were born in Brazil and Mexico and didn’t follow Messi or Argentina that closely until his last World Cup heroics. That victory will live in their memories forever and enabled us, like millions of other families, to cultivate a shared obsession.

While his move to Miami raised eyebrows among soccer traditionalists, it was a clear personal decision by someone who wanted a career change to dedicate more time to his family and children. In a way, Messi put his personal life above “work,” providing a vivid lesson that even if you are the GOAT, not everything needs to be about money and status. In a world where fewer and fewer luminaries seem capable of stepping aside — from octogenarian politicians to rockers doing endless “final tours” — it requires a lot of self-awareness for someone at the peak of their appeal to swap playing in the world’s top leagues in Europe’s largest stadiums for a soulless facility in the backyard of a Fort Lauderdale airport.

A few days after the game, at the airport check-in desk for our return to Mexico City, I heard our flight was overbooked. For a minute, I was tempted to run back to the stadium, where Inter Miami was scheduled to face Mexico’s CF Monterrey just a few hours later. But we ended up not having that option — and that was okay, because we had already had a good time. And Messi didn’t end up playing in that game either.