The roar of the crowd still echoes in my ears, a phantom sound from last Saturday’s game. I was there, at the Smart Araneta Coliseum, wedged between screaming fans, watching the National U women’s volleyball team do the impossible. They were down two sets to none against Far Eastern University. The scoreboard read 20-25, 22-25, and the air was thick with that particular tension of impending defeat. I remember thinking, "This is it. The streak ends here." I’d seen this narrative before, not on the volleyball court, but on the football pitch. It’s the same narrative that surrounds legends when they’re cornered, when everything is on the line. And as I watched National U claw their way back—25-23, 25-14, and finally, in a heart-stopping fifth set, 17-15—to secure their fourth straight finals berth in UAAP Season 87, my mind kept drifting to a different, yet parallel, debate. It’s the one we have in cafes, in online forums, and with friends after a few beers: Who truly deserves the title of GOAT of football in modern history?
You see, watching a team refuse to lose does something to you. It makes you reconsider what greatness really looks like. Is it the sheer, unadulterated talent? The trophies? Or is it something more intangible, something that happens in the fifth set when the score is 15-15 and one service error could end it all? That National U comeback wasn't just about skill; it was about a collective spirit, a refusal to be defined by a losing position. It made me think about the 2022 Champions League final. Real Madrid were being outplayed for large portions of the game. The data, the expected goals, all of it pointed to a Liverpool victory. But Madrid, much like National U, found a way. They have this ingrained belief, a kind of championship DNA. And that’s the core of the GOAT debate for me. It can't just be about statistics; it has to be about that intangible will.
Let's talk numbers, because everyone loves numbers. Lionel Messi has eight Ballon d'Or awards. Cristiano Ronaldo has five. Their goal tallies are astronomical, hovering around 800 each for club and country. Messi’s 91 goals in a single calendar year in 2012 is a figure so ridiculous it feels like a video game cheat code. Ronaldo’s 140 Champions League goals are a testament to his relentless dominance on Europe's biggest stage. These are the kinds of stats that make you sit back and just say, "Wow." But here’s where my personal bias might creep in. For me, the GOAT isn't just the one with the shiniest collection of individual accolades. It's the one whose genius feels inevitable, almost pre-ordained. Watching Messi is like watching a grandmaster play chess while everyone else is playing checkers. His assist for Argentina's second goal in the 2022 World Cup final, that delicate, almost casual pass into the path of Ángel Di María, was a moment of pure, unadulterated clarity. It wasn't about power; it was about perception.
Yet, how can you possibly ignore Cristiano Ronaldo? The man is a monument to hard work. He sculpted himself into a physical specimen capable of defying age. His towering header against Sampdoria in 2019, where he hung in the air for what seemed like a full second, is the stuff of biomechanical legend. He has won league titles in England, Spain, and Italy. That’s a ridiculous level of sustained success across different styles of play. It speaks to an incredible adaptability. But—and this is a big but for me—does that make him the greatest? Or does it make him the most successful? There’s a nuance there. I remember arguing with a friend who is a die-hard Ronaldo fan. He kept pointing to the five Champions League titles. I kept pointing to Messi’s World Cup win. "International glory is the ultimate measure," I said. He retorted, "Club consistency over a decade is harder." We never did settle it.
This brings me back to that volleyball game. National U’s victory wasn't about one superstar. It was a team triumph built on moments of individual brilliance when it mattered most. And isn't that what football is ultimately about? The GOAT debate often gets reduced to a binary, Messi vs. Ronaldo, but it ignores the context of their teams. Messi’s Barcelona was a symphony orchestrated for him, while Ronaldo often seemed like a one-man army capable of dragging his teams to glory, be it at Manchester United, Real Madrid, or even Juventus. I lean towards the player who elevates the beautiful game itself, who makes you see passes and spaces you didn't know existed. For me, that’s Messi. His 2022 World Cup performance, with 7 goals and 3 assists, culminating in that final where he scored twice, felt like a coronation. It was the one box his critics said was unchecked, and he checked it in the most dramatic fashion possible.
So, who truly deserves the title of GOAT of football in modern history? Sitting in that coliseum, watching the National U players collapse in joy and exhaustion after their 17-15 fifth-set victory, I felt my answer solidify. Greatness isn't just a list of accomplishments, though those are important. It's about the moments that defy logic, the grace under pressure, and the ability to imprint your will on the biggest stages. For me, the player who embodies that most completely, whose genius feels less manufactured and more innate, is Lionel Messi. But I’ll admit, the beauty of this debate is that it has no definitive end. It’s a conversation that will continue, fueled by moments of magic on the pitch, whether it's in a World Cup final or a UAAP Final Four match that nobody expected to turn out the way it did.