Carlos Tevez and Lionel Messi bring two sides of Argentina to Berlin
Marcela Mora y Araujo (The Guardian)A man passes a wall painted with a portrait of Carlos Tevez in Barrio Ejército de los Andes, better known as Fuerte Apache, in the outskirts of Buenos Aires.Argentina’s football fans have been asking each other one question since the semi-finals: “Who do you want to win, Tevez or Messi?” The rivalry between them has been the subject of media scrutiny for some years now, and there’s something particularly poignant about these two facing each other at this highest level of club competition, at this stage in their careers.
It is not the first time they have met in a Champions League final: Tevez’s Manchester United were beaten by Messi’s Barcelona in 2009, the year after Tevez, in his debut season in the Champions League, lifted the trophy in United’s shirt but wrapped himself in an Argentina flag just in case anyone was wondering about his patriotism.
The following morning Messi addressed a press conference back in Catalunya, on the eve of an international friendly, and took the time to sing Carlitos’s praises having watched the match on TV. “A phenomenon” he told us.
Messi himself had emerged as a potential Champions League superstar way back in 2005, and against Tevez’s United in 2009 produced a superlative performance, sliding and gliding through defenders and opponents almost twice his size.
Both players made their World Cup debuts in 2006, coming on within less than 10 minutes of each other in the second half of the now legendary match against Serbia & Montenegro. Both scored that day, and then each lived through the demise of the dream, defeated on penalties by Germany in the quarter-finals at this very Berlin stadium where they now meet again, this time as rivals.
The question of how Argentina produces so many of the world’s elite players is one that crops up often, and the answer probably lies more in a combination of several factors rather than a single magic formula. The 1986 World Cup-winning manager Carlos Bilardo used to say: “Look at any big club in the world, at any high level competition, at any Champions League final and who will you see playing there? An Argentinian.”
As it happens, Tevez and Messi are examples of two very different ways in which Argentina grooms youth players. Tevez was born into abject poverty, scarred after being accidentally scalded by boiling water aged 10 months, abandoned by his mother and, following the death of his father, raised by an aunt. In his teens he changed his name from Martínez, adopting his step-father’s Tevez. His moves from club to club have tended to be controversial, but he has somehow won the hearts of fans everywhere he has played.
Left out of Argentina’s squad for the 2014 World Cup despite an excellent season with Juventus, he inspired demonstrations back home. Many felt one of the reasons for his exclusion was a clash of sorts with Messi, or at the very least an inability for the two players to combine successfully on the pitch.
Messi on the other hand left Argentina at a very young age. Cradled by an extremely supportive family, his father insisted that the entire clan relocate to Barcelona, the club who had lured the young talent over the Atlantic. “What father wouldn’t do that?” he asked me once, clearly unaware of the many kids who cross continents and embark upon a lonely and scary life away from home chasing a distant dream.
Both Tevez and Messi had enough raw talent at a very young age to be spotted and groomed by the very best. Newell’s, where Messi started off, is renowned for the number of elite players who have emerged from its youth system. Tevez was raised by the famous youth coach Ramón Maddoni, who started offering dinner every Monday for any kid who wanted to stay after training, in part because he knew Tevez might not get a proper meal at home. One would be hard pushed to choose between Newell’s or Maddoni’s academies, highly regarded for shepherding young players through the key ages when so many habits and skills are formed.
As the two young men turn into veterans, they confront each other almost as polar opposites. One of the main criticisms levelled at Messi in Argentina over the years has been his apparent lack of the patriotic fervour that Tevez displays so often, the fact that he has rarely (although more so now than a few years ago) been able to deliver in his country’s colours the out-of-this-world quality he so consistently reaches with Barcelona. Tevez on the other hand plays with the same hunger in practically every game he plays, no matter whose shirt he wears.
A special battle is about to take place, and also a lovely illustration of how there is no set formula, no single way to ensure a world-class talent is allowed to thrive, but rather, that this magical game of football takes all sorts.