Normally, the majority of fans in America First Field in Sandy, Utah, are here to support the home team. On Wednesday night, however, the stands seemed to be a nearly even mix of Real Salt Lake’s claret and cobalt, Inter Miami pink, and Argentine “albiceleste” white and blue.
Nearly all of the Miami and Argentina jerseys in the crowd displayed the name and number of one player: Lionel Messi.
He’s a legend. It’s hard to explain just how incredible he is to people who aren’t familiar with soccer, but even the most uninitiated has at least heard his name.
But to me and millions of others around the world, Messi is important for another reason: He’s Argentine. And because my mom was born and raised in Argentina, I’ve grown up idolizing him both as a soccer player and as the beloved son of a country that has often turned to him for hope.
Wednesday was actually not my first time seeing Messi play. In March 2023, my mom and I crowded into Estadio Monumental in Buenos Aires with over 80,000 other screaming fans to see the Argentine national team play a friendly game against Panama. There were no seats in our section, so we stood shoulder-to-shoulder with complete strangers who quickly began to feel like family. We chanted the same cheers, booed the referees at the same time and gasped in awe whenever Messi so much as looked at the ball.
Messi scored his 800th career goal that night.
Years later, I still don’t have the words to explain what that night meant to me. I grew up playing soccer, and the sport was everything to me. And on special occasions throughout my life, my mom would make her famous alfajores — Argentine cookies sandwiched with dulce de leche — and tell me stories about growing up in a land of mountains and rivers, cowboys and soccer players. I don’t recall ever not knowing who Messi was, just as I always knew the name of Diego Maradona, another Argentine soccer legend.
Going to Argentina for the first time and seeing not just a soccer game but one played by the best Argentine players was truly the fulfillment of a childhood dream.
My mom had planned the trip to Argentina as my college graduation present, not knowing we’d be there at the same time as the national team. When the date for the game was announced and we miraculously snagged tickets (after waiting online for hours), I still couldn’t believe we were going to see the players I had spent the last year following and cheering on as they won the FIFA World Cup — Argentina’s third, and the first since 1986.
When the team walked out onto the pitch, I could recognize each of them from afar without numbers. Emiliano Martinez, the indomitable goalkeeper, stands out for his height. Rodrigo de Paul, a key midfielder who currently also plays for Inter Miami, has a particular gait. And Messi, of course, was nearly as familiar to me as my own mother.
The country outside that stadium was — and still is — suffering from astronomical inflation and other economic woes. Although the nation’s troubles weighed on everyone’s minds, once you were in that stadium, seeing the national team play, you only felt pride for your boys and hope that, just as they had succeeded, the country one day would, too.
As I walked into America First Field on Wednesday, I felt a strange sense of deja vu. A few men were selling hot dogs outside the gates, and I entered with a sea of people wearing Argentina jerseys. For a moment, the grilled meat smelled like choripan — the quintessential Argentine postgame sandwich of spiced sausage and chimichurri between crusty bread. The smells and sights brought me, for a moment, back to Buenos Aires.
I played soccer in high school, and my old field is just a few miles away from America First Field. My team actually played at this stadium for the high school soccer finals my senior year. And now I was back, this time to see my favorite player in the world step foot on the same field.
Although many attendees were there to support their home team of Real Salt Lake, I met quite a few who traveled from neighboring states just for the chance to see Messi play. When the cameras pointed to him during warmups, the stadium erupted into cheers. And when he walked onto the field as part of the starting lineup, the roar was earsplitting.
This is not to say that the crowd didn’t cheer for the other players. Diego Luna, one of Real Salt Lake’s star midfielders, was a clear favorite of the home fans. I personally was ecstatic to see De Paul again, who is present most of the time the players start arguing with the ref. And in the second half, the crowd erupted when Miami subbed in Luis Suárez, a Uruguayan striker whom I’ve loved ever since I read a statistic that players were more likely to be bitten by him than a shark. He has also scored more goals than any other professional Uruguayan soccer player.
De Paul scored the first goal of the game in the 82nd minute. One minute later, Suárez scored the second, and the game ended at 2-0. Real Salt Lake fans were disappointed, but losing to legendary players like Messi, De Paul and Suárez takes some of the sting off.
What does Messi mean to Latin Americans?
During halftime, I struck up a conversation with Elina Bustamante, who is originally from Cordoba, Argentina, the same city my mom is from. She attended with her granddaughter, Kamila Catania, and gave two reasons for attending Wednesday’s game.
“First, as Argentines, we are soccer fans,” Elina said. “The Argentines are footballers from the cradle. Second, because Messi is Argentine ... and Messi is Messi.”
Kamila, who was born in the U.S., said it was an exciting moment for her as well.
“It just feels good to have an extra experience with my family that’s Argentine,” she said. “And of course, watching Messi. Who wouldn’t want to watch Messi?”
People from across Latin America, not just Argentina, feel a special pride for Messi. Michael and Maria Moore, for instance, are both from Belize but now live in Las Vegas and traveled from Nevada just for this game.
Michael told me this was a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity” to see Messi play. He and his wife love soccer, but as Latin Americans, Messi is more than a phenomenal athlete to them; he is a symbol of shared triumph, someone who turned humble beginnings into something great.
“It shows you that if you put yourself out there, you can really make something, do something, be something,” Maria said.
Michael pointed out that Messi’s star power has attracted fans not just to this one game but to soccer across the U.S.
“From the time he came here, soccer has taken off to a different level,” he said. “And it keeps going up and up.”
Michael has followed Messi since his early days at FC Barcelona’s youth academy. He watched when Messi made his debut for Barcelona at 18, followed when he moved to Paris Saint-Germain, and now wears a pink jersey to support the star now that he’s in Miami.
He’s far from the only person who roots for Messi no matter where he goes.
“Even the Real fans from here are wearing Messi shirts, which is really exciting to see that it doesn’t matter,” Maria said. “He crosses teams and people are still rooting for him.”
From humble beginnings to worldwide fame
Why does Messi inspire such devotion?
First, he is a truly phenomenal player. He is consistently referred to as the greatest of all time. He has eight Ballon d’Or awards — the most of any other player — along with his World Cup and consecutive Copa America wins. His footwork is precise, his aim even more so. In one of my favorite clips of all time, he gently places a half-full soda bottle atop a soccer ball some distance back from a small hoop. He kicks the ball, which sails perfectly through the tiny hoop, and the bottle flips and lands upright.
But what really makes him so special is that his upbringing and childhood health did not portend such legendary status.
Messi’s parents were not athletes; they were a working-class family who lived in a humble home in Rosario, Argentina. Messi has spoken on multiple occasions about the sacrifices his parents made to support his soccer career, which included moving the family across the world to Spain when he was 13.
His family also struggled to pay for the young Messi’s medical bills. As a child, he was diagnosed with a growth hormone deficiency, standing just 4 feet and 4 inches at 11 years old. Despite his small stature, he was a prodigy on the field, and FC Barcelona agreed to pay for his medical treatments if he played for the club. Messi is now 5-foot-7, which means he is regularly among the shortest players on the pitch. His nickname, “La Pulga,” reflects this fact — it literally means “the flea.”
Many Argentines can relate to the Messi family’s early struggles because it is one they share.
Argentina was once one of the world’s wealthiest nations. It is rich in natural resources and fertile land. However, decades of political instability and economic upheaval have left it struggling.
When I visited Argentina in 2023, my aunt told me to bring cash but not exchange it all at once. Even though I was only staying for a week, the inflation rate was so high that my cash would start losing its value as soon as I walked out of the bank, so it was better to exchange the cash I needed at the beginning of each day.
That inflation is a constant burden on the Argentine people, but success in other realms — such as soccer, which is practically a religion to the country — gives them hope. According to CNN Español, 9 in 10 Argentines prioritized Argentina winning the World Cup over inflation rates decreasing.
“After, we’ll keep working on inflation,” Argentine politician Kelly Olmos famously quipped in 2022. “But first, may Argentina win.”
For a country that is rich with history and potential yet suffering from years of troubles, the people need someone to believe in, to show them it is possible to find a way out. For many, Messi is that person.
The boy from Rosario, born to a working-class family, is now one of the richest athletes in the world. A man from a country that can’t seem to get its feet under it led their national team to worldwide success. This means something to people — whether you’re an Argentine, a Latin American, an athlete, someone struggling with their health, someone struggling with their finances.
And for a girl who grew up chasing a soccer ball and eating alfajores, it means the world.
