Sports
Messi, ‘Missy’, Beckham, Simeone… and It’s Coming Home Again
By Moody Marty | Opening Doorz Editorial | July 17, 2026 It could have come home. It should have come home. It would have come home. But it hasn’t, and […]
By Moody Marty | Opening Doorz Editorial | July 17, 2026
It could have come home. It should have come home. It would have come home.
But it hasn’t, and it never will. That’s why they keep saying, “It’s coming home…” in the present continuous tense. It’s not a prediction; it’s a coping mechanism.
Because deep down, they know it’s never coming home.
On that note, I begin my column…
Messi Is Being Given the Status of ‘Missy’
Lionel Messi is being treated like ‘Missy’. It’s not because he isn’t great or because he can’t decide matches anymore. It’s because FIFA, led by Gianni Infantino, has slowly put him above the rules that apply to everyone else on the field.
The incident during Argentina’s 2026 World Cup quarter-final against Switzerland exposed that uncomfortable truth. As Portuguese referee João Pinheiro marshalled Argentina’s defensive wall, Messi turned towards him, pointed a finger, and admonished him: “Speak properly. Speak to me with respect. I spoke to you respectfully.”
The football world applauded Messi for “standing up for himself.” It shouldn’t have. A referee’s authority is not negotiable. It is absolute. Those who defend Messi argue that respect is a two-way street. It is. But football is not a corporate boardroom where colleagues debate tone and etiquette. It is a stadium filled with over 70,000 screaming fans, twenty-two elite athletes running on adrenaline, and a referee expected to make split-second decisions while preventing complete chaos.
Critics complained about Pinheiro’s hand gestures. Really? How else is a referee supposed to communicate? Stadiums are deafening. Players speak different languages. Gestures are the universal language of officiating. They are not insults: they are tools of control.
If every player stopped play to discuss whether a referee’s body language hurt their feelings, football would become theatre instead of sport. More troubling was what happened next: nothing. Absolutely friggin’ nothing!
Had an unknown Swiss defender pointed a finger at the referee and instructed him how to speak, dissent would almost certainly have earned an immediate yellow card. Messi walked away untouched. That is not what this beautiful game of football is all about. FIFA’s silence speaks louder than Messi’s words. You don’t have 48 countries participating and allow one man immunity.
Under Infantino, football has become more about big personalities than about principles. Messi’s commercial value is now so huge that protecting his brand seems more important than protecting the referee’s authority. That sets a dangerous example.
Grassroots referees across the world already face unprecedented abuse every weekend. When the most celebrated footballer on the planet publicly lectures an official without consequence, what message does that send to every ambitious teenager playing Sunday football: that respect is conditional? That authority depends on who is speaking?
Sorry, FIFA, but football can’t work like this. The referee has to manage twenty-two players, not just one superstar. The whistle, not the Ballon d’Or, should be the top authority on the field. Otherwise, we might as well let Messi play and referee at the same time.
How Beckham Financed His Own Heartbreak
Poor David Beckham. He sat in the VIP box, looking like he’d just stepped off a GQ cover, watching England finally do what fans have been promising since 1966.
For a few glorious minutes after England scored first, it really felt like football was “coming home.” Beckham almost jumped into Victoria’s arms, celebrating like someone who just found out anti-ageing is real. Meanwhile, behind her big sunglasses, Posh probably wondered if his expensive jacket was wrinkle-proof.
Then Argentina happened. And so did Lionel Messi. There sat David Beckham, owner of Inter Miami and the man who brought Messi to the US, watching as Messi calmly destroyed England’s World Cup hopes.
Imagine paying someone hundreds of millions of dollars, only for him to knock your country out of the tournament. That’s not an investment; it’s like funding your own heartbreak. Messi came to Miami with a pink shirt, a mansion, celebrity status, and all the perks of football royalty. Beckham gave him the VIP treatment. Messi gave England a tough lesson.
And if that wasn’t enough, Argentina had one more surprise for Beckham: a Simeone.
Watching Giovanni Simeone running around in Argentina colours must have felt like opening an old wound from 1998. Every time Beckham thought he’d buried that infamous red card against Diego Simeone, football simply produced the sequel. This time it came with upgraded graphics and better hair. Football really does have a wicked sense of humour. By the final whistle, Beckham wasn’t celebrating; he was in tears.
His son Cruz tried to comfort him with gentle pats on the back, looking more like a therapist than a football fan. You almost felt sorry for Beckham. Almost. Meanwhile, somewhere in Miami, Messi is probably getting ready for Inter Miami’s next training session without a hint of guilt.
Some investments pay dividends. This one paid Argentina.
VARgentina and the VIP Revival Meeting with Diego Simeone
While on Simeone… If Beckham brought the tears, Simeone brought the laughs. Watching “Cholo” in the VIP box during Argentina’s comeback against Egypt was like seeing someone win the lottery after already getting a free business-class upgrade. When Argentina scored the winner, Simeone went wild.
He jumped from his seat like a champagne cork, hugged everyone nearby, and celebrated with the pure joy of someone who just found the last cold beer in the stadium. The VIP box turned into an instant Argentine street party.
It was chaotic and classic Cholo. What made it even funnier was that for almost eighty minutes, Egypt played one of the best games of the tournament. They defended bravely, attacked without fear, and looked like the better team. Mostafa Ziko even thought he had scored a second goal for Egypt before VAR got involved.
Or maybe we should call it VARgentina. It’s funny how the close calls always seem to go Argentina’s way. With each replay and decision, Egypt looked like contestants on a reality show where the ending was already decided. In the VIP suite, Simeone celebrated every review as if he owned part of the VAR system.
This is Diego Simeone, after all—the man who once turned Beckham’s World Cup into a red card. As a player, he loved chaos. As a manager, he’s built his career on controlled chaos. And as a VIP guest, he celebrates with just as much energy.
Because deep down, they know it’s never coming home.
By the time Enzo Fernández scored the winning goal, Simeone was hugging friends, punching the air, and bouncing around the suite like Argentina had just won the World Cup. Neutrality had left the building long ago.
Poor Egypt. They played with courage and conviction. But beating Argentina is difficult enough. Beating Argentina when football fans are already whispering about VARgentina? That’s a mission bordering on the miraculous.
And yet, here in India, we still stay up late into the night to watch football slowly turn into VAR theatre.
Meanwhile, England keeps singing, “It’s Coming Home.” Not in the future tense, never in the past, always in the present continuous. That’s the only way it can keep coming home without ever really arriving.
[Moody Marty: Sometimes funny, sometimes informative, always downright forthright!]
All Images: AI Generated
Also Read
FIFA’s Foul Play: Death of the Beautiful Game
Move Over Maradona: VAR “Hand of a Rascal” is Here to Aid Messi
Rediscovering Goa’s Soul on Divar Island at Devaaya Resort!
