Rome, 12 Aug. (LaPresse) – “Dad, I still can’t believe you’re gone. I can’t quite take it in – or rather, I don’t want to accept it. It’s so hard for me to imagine that I’ll never see you again, that we’ll never speak again. I know you were suffering and that this is for the best, but you’ve gone too soon. We still had so much left to live and enjoy together.” Thus begins a long post that Leo Messi has dedicated to his father, Jorge, following his death three days ago after complications from a long-standing illness. “You asked me so many times to play in the last World Cup, and just a few days before it began, that was precisely when you were at your worst. It was the first time you wouldn’t be there for a tournament, but Mum told me you’d get better and recover in time to travel. I used to tell you we’d reach the final, so you could come. Every time a match ended, I’d wait and miss your message. That’s when I realised the situation was really bad. Yet I kept thinking about going as far as possible, to give you time and let you see at least one match. We reached the final and you couldn’t be there. I wanted to win it to bring it to you and show you a new trophy. I didn’t manage it; my legs just wouldn’t hold me up any longer. This time I tried to push my body beyond its limits, but I didn’t make it. “I never really felt right,” continues the Argentine champion, going on to say: “When I arrived, you thought we’d lost the final on penalties. We couldn’t talk about any of what had happened. You couldn’t enjoy any of it. We didn’t become champions, but you don’t know how much we enjoyed every match. Once again, you were right: I should have been there to play it. I’m telling you all this because it was the only thing we couldn’t talk about; as for the rest, you already know everything. We spoke every day and saw each other whenever possible, depending on my commitments. I don’t know what I’ll do without you; I don’t know how to carry on. I used to just play football, and now I have serious doubts about whether I’ll keep doing it for much longer. You were by my side right from the start; the end was so close. Why didn’t you hang on a little longer so we could finish this journey together? I know that your happiness came from seeing your family – your wife, your children – doing well and, above all, without anyone else knowing, from watching me play… It’s always been like that, ever since I was little. You’d take me to every training session as soon as you got home from work. Mum used to take me to many of them because you were working. Of course, you never missed a single match. How much you suffered watching me play, and how happy you were – even though you never gave me too many compliments. You were a dad, a friend and an agent. You were always exactly the person you needed to be at every moment, and you never put a foot wrong. Apart from the odd telling-off or argument, you were always right. In the end, things always turned out just as you said they would. I’ll miss you so much, but you’ll always be with me, especially when it comes to bringing up my children, because I’m teaching and raising them just as you both did with me. Rest in peace and look after us from up there, just as you did here. Thank you for everything. I love you, Dad.”
Messi, a tribute to his late father: ‘I wanted to win the World Cup for you, but my legs just wouldn’t carry me any further’
Rome, 12 Aug. (LaPresse) – “Dad, I still can’t believe you’re gone. I can’t quite take it in – or rather, I don’t want to accept it. It’s so hard for me to imagine that I’ll never see you again, that we’ll never speak again. I know you were suffering and that this is for the best, but you’ve gone too soon. We still had so much left to live and enjoy together.” Thus begins a long post that Leo Messi has dedicated to his father, Jorge, following his death three days ago after complications from a long-standing illness. “You asked me so many times to play in the last World Cup, and just a few days before it began, that was precisely when you were at your worst. It was the first time you wouldn’t be there for a tournament, but Mum told me you’d get better and recover in time to travel. I used to tell you we’d reach the final, so you could come. Every time a match ended, I’d wait and miss your message. That’s when I realised the situation was really bad. Yet I kept thinking about going as far as possible, to give you time and let you see at least one match. We reached the final and you couldn’t be there. I wanted to win it to bring it to you and show you a new trophy. I didn’t manage it; my legs just wouldn’t hold me up any longer. This time I tried to push my body beyond its limits, but I didn’t make it. “I never really felt right,” continues the Argentine champion, going on to say: “When I arrived, you thought we’d lost the final on penalties. We couldn’t talk about any of what had happened. You couldn’t enjoy any of it. We didn’t become champions, but you don’t know how much we enjoyed every match. Once again, you were right: I should have been there to play it. I’m telling you all this because it was the only thing we couldn’t talk about; as for the rest, you already know everything. We spoke every day and saw each other whenever possible, depending on my commitments. I don’t know what I’ll do without you; I don’t know how to carry on. I used to just play football, and now I have serious doubts about whether I’ll keep doing it for much longer. You were by my side right from the start; the end was so close. Why didn’t you hang on a little longer so we could finish this journey together? I know that your happiness came from seeing your family – your wife, your children – doing well and, above all, without anyone else knowing, from watching me play… It’s always been like that, ever since I was little. You’d take me to every training session as soon as you got home from work. Mum used to take me to many of them because you were working. Of course,…