Luka Modric and one last heart-ache

The world cups I have been a witness to have all had a curious and eminently poignant sort of figure. The figure of a no.10. The figure of a tragic no.10. In 2010 there was Forlan, with his flowing golden locks and kisses on his wrist after spectacular goals. Majestic and spectacular but ultimately unsuccessful beauty of Forlan in 2010 was bettered by Messi in 2014. In 2022, it was Mbappe. The desperate and gripping narrative arc around Lionel Messi and Argentina had a bigger draw and Mbappe’s tragic end to the 2022 tournament was less compelling because of his success four years’ prior. That success denied another no. 10. That man has just played his last world cup game. He is Luka Modric, the Balkan LM10.

While the successes of his club career are great enough to draw envy of anyone, he was never quite the central hero of those stories. He was more of a workman-like presence. Prominent, sure, but at the periphery of the immediate limelight. And his position at the margins of attention created a fascinating tension, where neither his highs nor his lows could really be epical. That all changed in that 2018 tournament in Russia. Luka Modric became epic. He had attained a narrative of poetic significance.

That was the third world cup he participated in. He was approaching 33. His statement performance early in that world cup against Argentina saw him score one of the most delightful goals from outside the box. Modric, for once, had earned his rightful place at the eye of a world cup shaped storm. He would not let go off that easily. He picked up the Ballon D’or that year, breaking a decade-long duopoly of Messi and Ronaldo. He was always a notable player but that tournament in Russia made him a star amongst the stars. His unconvincing frame made his explosive determination look almost anomalous and fantastic. He buzzed around the midfield like a restless butterfly, or like a five-year old playfully chasing one. When he donned the checkered colours of Croatia, he made the drudgery of his work look like verse.

The 2018 world cup gave him his most widely appreciated success. It also gave him his most heartbreaking failure. He won the golden ball, but he lost the world cup final. Croatia, a talented and a bit understated side, went the furthest they had in their little but significant world cup history when Modric was their talisman. It was raining in Luzhniki and Modric looked broken. And for the first time really, he was a hero for whom so many hearts could bleed. He had won as many as four champions leagues by then. But never before had he won so many over.

Modric’s tragic moments carried a theatrical element. He would coil up his headband in his fingers and twirl his hair with a contemplative distraction befitting a thinker. He could silently bathe in all the adulations from the world around him as he trudged off in resignation. The heart-aches he produced were as good as his trivelas. His triumphs were mighty and many but it is his glorious failures, testaments to an inescapably humane fragility, that I cherish most as a football fan.

The long round of 32 in this world cup is throwing up one drama after another. Both Belgium and England registered dramatic turn-around victories. Portugal achieved the same against Croatia, that too with an injury time winner. Not as inherently spectacular but to me similarly dramatic was a moment that came quite late during Croatia’s defeat to Portugal. Ten minutes of injury time had passed and the Portuguese bench was screaming for the whistle. In one of many Croat forward drives that felt like the last chance, it was Luka who was running to reach a pass so that he could square it from a very acute angle. It never seemed like he could reach it, now that he is 41. But he almost did, until, as is predestined, he didn’t.

Croatia still had enough time to score what they thought was a very very late equaliser, but that was rightfully chalked off for an offside. The final heart-ache with Luka Modric in a world cup could not come with a tranquil acceptance. It came with an apparent unfairness, with resentment. His victories never reverberated as solemnly as this resentment. In a world of wanton violence, war and endless contestations of identity and roots, Luka Modric smiles his brightest when a VAR review takes away from him the goal that could extend his stay.

Read more – Knockout Drama Continues as England, Belgium and USA Progress

Also see – From ‘Haramball’ to Tactical Genius: Who Gets to Play Beautiful Football?

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