The Athletic, "A glimpse behind the phenomenon of Jordi Lloret (Part 2/4)" by Alex Stones.
Máximo Paz, Rosario, Argentina
It is a chilly morning in August, and we find ourselves waiting outside a large ranch near Rosario. Eager to impress, I convinced my assistant, Seth White, to arrive earlier than 9 AM, the time agreed upon. Now, we find ourselves enjoying the pleasant morning with the grazing sheep. At 9 sharp, Marcelo Bielsa comes into view. We stand straight as he strides toward us and unlocks the cattle gate. A quick greeting curbs the enthusiastic monologue I had prepared to thank him and sing his praises. White and I hasten to keep up with Bielsa, who turned 75 last month.
He leads us through a winding path towards a side entrance that leads directly into a large room. 4 different screens are mounted on the walls directly in front. There are as many sofas facing the screens and many folding chairs littered in between. 2 people are huddled together watching Spain vs Saudi Arabia from the 2026 World Cup. They pay no attention as we enter.
Bielsa takes a seat on the furthest sofa. In front of us is another game which neither White nor I recognise. Bielsa tells us it is a league game between FUS Rabat and Ittihad Tanger, teams from the Moroccan first division. Shortly after, we begin our interview.
"What I wish to begin with is your impact on Jordi Lloret. Jordi, quite often, brings you up, and his respect for you is quite apparent. How do you think you helped in improving Jordi?"
"Hmm, he joined us when he was only 16. With everything that happened at Barcelona, he was broken and retreated into a shell. No matter how mature he was, at the end of the day, he was just a young boy. All I did was let him know that I believed in him. Beyond that, I take no credit for his development."
"You are being too humble, Mister Bielsa. Jordi, from an academy player, became one of the best players in the world under you."
"He would've done the same under anyone. I moved him higher up the pitch, that's about it. A player like him just needed to play football, and he would become the player he is. No matter the team, the manager, or the players."
"Is he the greatest talent you have managed?"
Marcelo Bielsa's answer was instant, "By far. The greatest talent and the greatest player I have ever managed."
"In 2020, when he was only 17, you predicted that he would end his career as one of the greats of the game. Now, he is widely considered the greatest midfielder of all time and one of the greatest players of all time. What do you believe has set him apart?"
"Hmm," Bielsa looks up at the Moroccan game while taking his time to think. "There are two things. First, his mind. I have never come across a more intelligent footballing mind. Do you understand? Guardiola, Messi, for all their qualities, never understood football with as much clarity as Jordi has. I say these words with complete awareness."
Bielsa took off his glasses and folded them carefully. All the time, there was a sort of reluctance in his expression. He nods to himself before continuing, "Second, and most important, he is obsessed with football. I kid you not, I never believed I would say this about anyone in my life. Jordi is obsessed with a passion that runs deeper and more fervent than my own."
"Really? More than you?"
"Yes, yes. His obsession is much worse than mine."
"Finally, how has it felt watching Jordi's career develop?"
"Wonderful. I feel great pride every time I watch him play. The awards, the accolades aside, what he does with the ball at his feet, uff, it's a joy to watch. Jordi, that boy is a gift to the game of football."
…
We leave for the airport directly from the ranch. The next day, we land in Manchester, which seems much greyer than before our Argentina trip. I freshen up and take a taxi to Old Trafford. Near the entrance, I meet Jamal El Idrissi, in a Manchester United top and brown plaid pants. He carries a stack of pamphlets that contain a bulleted summary of the Communist Manifesto. I walk along with him as he hands the pamphlets out.
"Do you do this regularly?"
"Yes, yes. My wife and I, every home game we can, we come to distribute pamphlets and invite people to our weekly gatherings. Sometimes, we give out communist material, racial awareness memos, or pamphlets concerning upcoming marches. Sometimes, we rally for countries, African, Middle Eastern, Latin American. The goal is revolution."
"How did you meet Jordi Lloret?"
"Ah, my brother! We were raising funds for Sudan, where my father is from, that year. Every weekend, our group from Cambridge would visit different cities to set up a stall. One weekend, we were in Leeds when I spotted a young boy discreetly walk over and talk to Lina, who is now my wife. We were only 19-20 at the time."
"Is she not here today?"
"No, no. She is teaching a course at Oxford this semester. I am doing the grunt work for now, hehe."
"Oh, ok. Sorry! Please continue."
"Ah yes, we were incredibly excited when a 17-year-old donated £1,000 out of nowhere. The boy was Jordi, of course. I managed to recognise him as Leeds had just been promoted to the Premier League… Hello, that is a lovely hoodie! Here, I am sure this will interest you. If you can, visit the Young Communist League's weekly gathering this Thursday…"
"Ironically, you could be a great salesman. So, how did your friendship with Jordi begin?"
"Exactly then. To my surprise, we had an hour-long conversation on Marx and Sartre and even on religion. He was so learned and open-minded that we immediately connected. After that, Lina and I would regularly visit him in Leeds. We would spend hours at different coffee shops debating and discussing. Truly, those were the best of times."
"His personality is truly different from any footballer we have seen before, right?"
"Yes! He reads, he loves to learn, and he is a very simple person. My brother is not only different from other footballers, but he is different from everyone… Hello, would you like to…"
We near the entrance to the stands, and the crowd thickens. I walk along as Jamal gets busy handing out the pamphlets and inviting people to the weekly gathering.
As we near the security check, he stops and smiles, "Madame, would you like to join me? I am sure it will be a lovely match." Jamal pats at the Manchester United badge on his chest, "I am optimistic about my team this season."
"No, thank you, Jamal. And thank you for your time. Do you have any last words about Jordi?"
Jamal shuffles the few pamphlets left in his hand, "He is a beautiful mind, a brilliant footballer, no doubt. However, he has a big heart that no one understands. I am lucky to call him my brother."
I walk away from the stadium deeply affected by the warmth in Jamal's eyes. His earnestness when talking about Jordi Lloret struck me. Of course, I was also chuckling as I looked at my hand. Somehow, I was holding a red pamphlet on the Communist Manifesto.