Scaloni Cured Messi, and Argentina Thanks Him

Any aspiring football coach can run a training session, tactically organize a team, pick a starting eleven, and develop a player – the basic missions of any coach, regardless of the sport. Then there are the truly gifted, those who achieve something rare: they create a community.

Lionel Scaloni belongs to this exclusive group. The Argentine coach's merit isn't solely defined by his titles – a World Cup (2022) and two Copa Américas (2021 and 2024), the pinnacle competitions for a South American national team. The greatest legacy of the former defender/midfielder, now 48, is his ability to transform a collection of stars into a family. This invisible work, beyond statistics, is fundamental to the dazzling numbers on his resume.

Friday, June 26th, marked 10 years since Lionel Messi announced his retirement from the Albiceleste. At 29, he had just lost the 2016 Copa América, his fourth consecutive final without lifting the trophy, following the 2014 World Cup and the 2007 and 2015 Copa Américas. Comparisons to Diego Armando Maradona's glorious past and the pressure to replicate feats only achievable by *D10S* — the epic of Mexico-1986 and the saga of Italy-1990 — created a toxic environment that suffocated "the flea," a "flea" who, playing for Barcelona, happily bounced to the rhythm of Ballon d'Or awards. The Argentine jersey weighed more than it inspired.

Without grand public speeches or locker room theatrics, Lionel Scaloni reversed this somber mood through his closeness to the players, the simplicity of his methods, and the creation of a space where everyone feels important and shares responsibilities according to their talent. It's impossible to separate this process from the relationship he built with Messi. The captain finally found a context where he maintains his status as a genius and leader, now surrounded by teammates willing to run and suffer for him, to then reach the heavens.

Perhaps this is Scaloni's greatest victory: the coach capable of alleviating Leo's burden of carrying an entire nation, one that feeds on football like few others, all by himself.

In small gestures, unity continues to be seen on and off the field, such is the way substitutes celebrate the feats of the starters in this World Cup. In the celebrations, this Argentina's identity is fully revealed. There are no isolated protagonists or choreographed routines designed for social media likes. Instead, we witness frantic sprints to the bench, embraces involving players, coaches, and staff members, a genuine happiness. The impression is that every goal belongs to the collective, regardless of who scored it.

The *Scaloneta* demonstrates that international football demands much more than just technical and tactical quality. Without a sense of belonging, no team can endure. When a group truly believes in the teammate beside them, difficult moments become more bearable, and glories take on a different meaning.

From the 1982 World Cup, the first I remember, besides Naranjito and the disappointment of Brazil's elimination at the hands of Paolo Rossi, I recall the image of Marco Tardelli celebrating Italy's second goal in their 3-1 victory over Germany in the Santiago Bernabéu final. A cry of wild emotion and disbelief at the feat he had just accomplished.

Forty years later, in Qatar-2022, Lionel Scaloni reminded me of the former Italian international. Gonzalo Montiel had beaten Hugo Lloris, and Argentina were crowned world champions in a penalty shootout after a sensational 3-3 draw over 120 minutes.

Scaloni seemed bewildered, and before fully grasping the magnitude of the achievement, he was mesmerized, almost without reaction. When he "woke up," he crossed himself and cried convulsively like an erupting volcano. The explosion of someone who felt that *his* team had received their deserved reward.

(Every time I see the splendor on the pitch from Tardelli and Scaloni, I can't help but get emotional).

Scaloni will be remembered for the trophies, because that's how football usually writes history. But before building a dominant national team, he structured an army that enjoys fighting together and gave Messi back to Argentina. That's the secret that distinguishes good coaches from the truly special ones.