Ignore this thread if you want, it's just emotive rambling.

But watching Messi during my formative years has been an experience beyond words.

I was in boarding school back in the day, and watching La Liga meant sneaking into the living room on weekends, and switching on the tv with bated breath.

I didn't have many friends, and football became an escape, it was a simple world. The better people win.

It wasn't like the complications of my teenage. There were no friends to make, no assignments to complete. You gave the sport time, and it rewarded you.

The epicenter of this magic? It was Pep's Barça. A team that allowed an awkward kid like me to feel like I belonged.

Messi was the crown jewel, of course. A diminutive presence. Athlete isn't the word that came to mind.

But, boy, the moment he touched that ball. Something happened. Time slowed down, it was almost as if you could hear his brain working at lightning speed, finding solutions.

As a slight child, I thought to myself, that there, that's my hero. On the UCL nights I could watch, I'd sneak into the kitchen for some snacks and soak in the Messimania.

He was arguably at the height of his powers back then, and truly a tour de force.

But even then, he felt like the everyman's sports star. Nothing about him felt unachievable or alien. He was still small, still simply dressed, still soft spoken.

He felt like a real life hero, someone accessible. That meant more to me than anything.

The identity of Messi meshed with my life in tangible and intangible ways. I tried everything, mind you. The shoes, the hair, everything.

I felt like a part of something, and I wasn't going to give that up.

Back in school, I'd try to sneak in highlight reels, and would save newspaper clippings, with every Barça win being pasted on the canvas of my mind.

Messi became a point of conversation, someone I could always reference, a way to relate to people.

His figure hasn't diminished in my life. The idea of Messi is entwined so strongly with Barça, in my mind, that I still haven't fully fathomed the exit. I only pretend to.

In my mind, I'm still that kid watching us win trophy after trophy, with a medium haired Leo leading.

This exit is more than superlatives. It's symbolic in multiple ways. I'm at a crossroads in my life, right now, and it appears that Leo is too.

Change comes to all, we're just never ready. I'll probably never meet Messi, but for me he's definite.

When I think of some shitty parts of my childhood, I'm always drawn to the fact that Barça was an escape, and that Messi was one of the primary reasons.

I doubt I'll ever forget that.