Right then. Lionel Messi. Thirty-eight years old. Scored after ten minutes in Inter Miami's brand new billion-dollar stadium. Two-all draw with Austin FC. Everyone loses their minds. Standing ovation. Fireworks. Probably a DJ playing something awful. Probably someone released doves.

In my day, when a club opened a new ground, you got a local dignitary cutting a ribbon with gardening scissors. The pitch was half mud, half hope. The PA system didn't work. You were lucky if the floodlights came on. And the first match was always, ALWAYS, a goalless draw against a team from two divisions below who parked the bus like their lives depended on it.

Nobody scored after ten minutes. Nobody scored at all. You went home cold, slightly damp, and told your wife it was a lovely afternoon.

But this is Miami. This is 2026. This is a stadium that reportedly cost over a billion dollars. A BILLION. I managed Kettering Town for three seasons and our entire annual budget wouldn't have covered the light fittings in the executive bogs. We once opened a refurbished away end with a cup of tea and a speech from the chairman's brother-in-law, Terry, who'd done most of the plastering. That was our grand opening. And we were grateful.

Don't get me started on what "long-awaited" means in American football terms. They've been waiting, what, a couple of years? Try supporting a club that's been waiting since 1987 for someone to fix the leak in the main stand roof. Try sitting in a ground where the dugout is literally a bus shelter bolted to the touchline. That's long-awaited.

Now look. I'm not going to sit here and pretend Messi isn't the greatest player to ever kick a football. He is. Even at 38, even in MLS, the man does things with a ball that make you question whether you ever really understood the sport at all. I watched him on the highlights and he still moves like the ball owes him money. It's ridiculous. It's unfair on every other footballer who has ever lived.

But here's what bothers me. They drew 2-2. At home. In the grand opening. Against Austin FC. No disrespect to Austin, lovely city I'm sure, but you don't spend a billion dollars on a palace and then ship two goals on opening night. That's the problem with modern football. All the razzmatazz, all the fireworks, all the celebrity guests, and you still can't keep a clean sheet.

When I opened our new training pitch in 2004, a converted council field behind a Tesco, we beat the local pub team 3-0 and I made sure every single player knew that if they conceded on the opening day of anything, they'd be running laps until their legs fell off. Standards. Basic standards.

And another thing. Messi is 38. THIRTY-EIGHT. I was 38 once. I could barely get out of a Ford Mondeo without making a noise. This fella is gliding past defenders in 30-degree heat in a stadium that probably has its own postcode and weather system. It's not normal. It's not right. It makes the rest of us look bad.

The stadium looks gorgeous, I'll give them that. All glass and curves and probably a sushi restaurant on every level. Probably got a swimming pool in the directors' box. Probably got underfloor heating in the car park. Meanwhile, I spent three years managing from a dugout where the roof was a sheet of corrugated iron and the tactical board was a clipboard I'd nicked from Halfords.

Good luck to them. Genuinely. But a 2-2 draw is a 2-2 draw, whether it's in a billion-dollar stadium or a field behind a Tesco.

In my day, we knew that.