Ronaldo is one of the great narcissists of modern sport, seen as often in celebrity magazines as he is on the back pages. He once bragged that he does a thousand press-ups a day to maintain his rippled abs. Off the pitch, he owns a couple of clothes boutiques; on it, he likes to pop his collar, wear a pink strap for thigh strains and unveil experiments in hairstyle every other week.
People wonder at his self-love. “I think that being rich, handsome, being a great player, people are jealous of me,” he said in a televised interview in September, trying to account for why opposition players like to hack him down in matches. It was as if he were listing some of the chemical elements from the periodic table.
This kind of arrogance might offend some; others are grateful for his spikiness, for having the personality to provoke while most of his peers in football, like Messi, for example, excel at saying nothing.
There is no dirt, it seems, about Messi.
His pals at Barcelona are adamant that he is an even better person than he is a footballer. His lone rebellious period at the club, when he sauntered off to a couple of parties with Ronaldinho during the Brazilian’s last years at the club was nipped in the bud by Pep Guardiola. The Barça chief was manager of Barcelona’s B team at the time.
“You’ve two options,” he threatened.
“Either you keep on partying, and you’ll be out of here in days or you start eating properly, quit the alcohol, go to bed early and come to practice on time. Only then might you become the best in the world.”
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