Before the last World Cup, in Germany in 2006, Ronaldinho was imperious at Barça, a genius leading his apprentice, Lionel Messi, toward heights that defied expectation and at times redefined the physics of soccer.
There were weeks, whole months, of matches in which Ronaldinho invented a trick every week. He did it for the fun of it, he did it because he dared to obey the instinct inside of him.
He did it because Frank Rijkaard, the Dutchman in charge of Barcelona at the time, was a coach who saw no reason not to allow genius its free rein.
Somehow, Ronaldinho lost zest.
Correction: It is highly probable that the selling of Ronaldinho, the most marketed player of the era, for an annual sum estimated at €23 million, or $33 million, by a dozen sponsors, helped burn out his joy. He was getting so much, riding so high, that he lost the very thing that the advertisers built their campaigns around.
He no longer “just did it” to paraphrase the Nike slogan.
He thought partying was more fun. He and his brother, who was also his agent, forgot the essence that made him worth his freedom on the field.
Who among us can say that we would not, come the 23rd million, similarly lose the focus? The failure of Brazil’s so-called Magic Quartet of Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Kaká and Adriano in 2006 ended with vandals destroying a 23-foot or 7.5-meter, fiberglass statue of Ronaldinho in Chapecó, Brazil.
“Every Brazil player went home from that World Cup shattered,” Ronaldinho said shortly afterward. “For me, it was harder. I created a lot of expectations because I had been in unbelievable form.”