🚨 Rodrigo De Paul on Lionel Messi’s final match for Argentina: “I told Leo before the game, ‘You realise you’ve created a serious problem for me?’ He looked at me. ‘What?’ ‘I have to find a new job.’ He started laughing. I said, ‘I’m serious. For years everybody has called me your bodyguard. Tomorrow I’m unemployed.’ He said, ‘Maybe now you can concentrate on playing football.’ ‘I tried that before. I prefer this.’ That’s Leo. Everybody around him is emotional and somehow he still makes everything feel normal. But today wasn’t normal. Normally when we arrive, I know where Leo is without looking. There will be people around him. Photographs. Teammates. Staff. Sometimes I joke, ‘Give him space. Some of us are employed to stand here.’ Today I couldn’t say it. Because everybody wanted one more moment. So did I. Before we walked out I asked, ‘Are you going to cry?’ ‘No.’ ‘Okay. So you’re definitely going to cry.’ Then the anthem started. I looked across. His eyes were already going. I thought, ‘Ten seconds, Leo. Incredible resistance.’ Mine weren’t much better. Then the clock reached ten minutes and the game stopped. Number ten. The whole stadium stood. Even the opposition came over. Everybody applauded him. I looked at Leo and realised there was nothing he could do. Normally when sixty thousand people watch him, he has a football. That is his protection. Two defenders? Go between them. No space? Find some. But what do you do when an entire stadium is simply telling you they love you? There is no dribble for that. I went over. ‘This might be the first situation I’ve seen where you have no solution.’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘You look uncomfortable.’ ‘I am.’ ‘Do you want your bodyguard?’ That finally made him smile. People see the World Cup and remember the beautiful ending. They forget everything before it. The defeats. The pressure. The years when Leo had to prove he loved Argentina every time he touched a football. Then came the Copa America. Then the World Cup. After we became world champions, I hugged him. ‘Finished.’ ‘What is finished?’ ‘Everything. Nobody can ask you for anything anymore.’ He smiled. ‘They will find something.’ ‘Then they can speak to your bodyguard.’ We laughed. But eventually football always asks for one last thing. One last match. One last anthem. One last time wearing the shirt. Tonight I looked at him and remembered the first time we played together. Then I realised this was the last. Football does that quickly. One day you’re saying, ‘Leo, wait for me.’ Then suddenly there is somewhere he is going and none of us can follow him. After the game I told him, ‘I’ve changed my mind. You’re not allowed to retire.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll speak to Scaloni.’ ‘Rodri.’ ‘I’ll speak to Chiqui.’ ‘Rodri.’ ‘We can probably change some regulations.’ He just looked at me. ‘Okay. At least give me the captain’s armband. I need compensation for losing my client.’ He laughed and hugged me. And that was when it became difficult. For years people joked that wherever Messi went, De Paul followed. Training. Tunnels. Celebrations. Arguments. Someone pushes him, somehow I’m there. I never minded. There are worse jobs in football than looking after Lionel Messi. But tonight I finally found somewhere I can’t follow him. When Leo walks away from Argentina, the rest of us have to stay behind. Tomorrow we’ll discuss who plays where, who becomes captain, who wears number ten. Football always continues. But tonight? Let Argentina stop for a moment. It already stopped once in the tenth minute. After everything Leo gave us, we can afford to stop a little longer.”