Messi for the Powerful, Stands for the Public: How India’s Elites Hijacked a Football Icon
Lionel Messi’s visit to India was marketed as a celebration of football, a once-in-a-generation moment for fans who have followed his career through late-night matches, grainy streams, and emotional highs and lows. What unfolded instead was a carefully choreographed VIP tour where power, privilege, and political optics took precedence over the very people who gave the event its meaning. Across cities, the message was consistent. Messi was accessible to the powerful. The public was expected to applaud from a distance.
The Script Was the Same Everywhere
From the first stop, a clear pattern emerged. In Kolkata, ministers from the ruling Trinamool Congress and their families queued up for personal photographs and private moments. In Hyderabad, the Chief Minister took to the field, Rahul Gandhi posed for pictures, and political visibility once again dominated the narrative. Mumbai followed suit, with the Chief Minister, his wife, and a familiar circle of elites occupying prime access. Now in Delhi, expectations are already set that the Prime Minister will be the centrepiece of the visit. Different cities, different leaders, same script. This was not coincidence. It was design.
Fans Paid, Elites Posed
The imbalance was not just symbolic. Fans paid real money for tickets, often running into thousands of rupees. Many travelled long distances, took time off work, and braved overcrowding and security restrictions, only to be confined to distant stands with limited visibility. Meanwhile, politicians and their families enjoyed proximity without queues, costs, or constraints. The fans were not participants. They were set dressing, necessary only to fill the stadium and justify the event’s scale.
Kolkata’s Backlash Was Inevitable
Kolkata’s reaction should have surprised no one. This is a city where football is not entertainment but identity. Clubs are inherited across generations. Allegiances are emotional, almost tribal. When fans in such a city are sidelined so that political figures can collect photo opportunities, it feels less like poor planning and more like deliberate disrespect. The anger that spilled out in the stands was not about Messi failing fans. It was about organisers and authorities humiliating them.
VIP Culture and the Indian Insecurity Complex
At the heart of this fiasco lies India’s chronic VIP culture. Proximity to global icons is treated as proof of relevance, power, and modernity. Politicians behave as though being seen with Messi elevates their stature, while fans are expected to be grateful for whatever crumbs of access remain. This insecurity drives a system where public enthusiasm is exploited, not respected, and where global sport is reduced to a backdrop for domestic political theatre.
How Global Sport Is Meant to Work
In footballing nations, visits by legends revolve around fans. Open training sessions, interactions with young players, community events, and carefully managed but meaningful access are standard practice. Political leaders, if present at all, stay in the background. The spotlight remains firmly on the sport and its supporters. India inverted this model. The fans were peripheral. The powerful were central.
Organisers Enabled, Politicians Exploited
Responsibility does not lie with politicians alone. Event organisers designed these visits around VIP access. They chose who stood closest, who entered restricted zones, and who got face time. Politicians simply took advantage of a system built to flatter them. This was not mismanagement. It was prioritisation.
This Was Never About Messi
Messi himself is not the problem. By all accounts, he fulfilled his obligations as required. The failure lies entirely with the ecosystem that hosted him. India did not fail because a footballer visited. It failed because it revealed, yet again, that public passion ranks far below political optics.
Conclusion
If India wants to host global sporting icons, it must decide who these events are for. If they are meant for politicians and elites, then organisers should stop pretending otherwise. If they are meant for fans, then access, respect, and experience must reflect that. Until then, resentment in the stands will continue to grow, and rightly so. Because when fans are treated like extras in their own celebration, anger is not disorder. It is a rational response.
