He copied me, forget about it. He looks like a model.
En una tarde de miércoles en Ezeiza, la selección argentina aterrizó para los últimos partidos de clasificación mundialista, pero fue el equipaje —no el fútbol— lo que capturó la imaginación colectiva. Oscar Ruggeri, campeón del mundo y voz perenne del fútbol argentino, convirtió el desfile de llegadas en una reflexión cómica sobre la moda, el tiempo y la imitación, recordándonos que incluso los grandes rituales deportivos se viven a través de los pequeños detalles. En el fondo, lo que se debatía no era solo quién llevaba qué bolso, sino cómo una generación reconoce, con humor y algo de nostalgia, que los tiempos cambian.
- Messi bajó del avión con una cartera Hermès y desató en Ruggeri una indignación fingida: llevaba tres años usando bolso pequeño y ahora el capitán lo 'copiaba'.
- Paredes llegó con una muñeca Labubu colgando de su bolso, dejando a Ruggeri genuinamente desconcertado ante el fenómeno coleccionable que no conocía.
- El panel de F90 recorrió cada llegada como si fuera un desfile: Otamendi de camisa y corbata, De Paul en jogging, cada uno compitiendo sin saberlo en una pasarela improvisada.
- La conversación derivó hacia Jules Koundé llegando con una falda, y Ruggeri usó el momento para medir la distancia entre eras: lo que antes era impensable hoy apenas genera un comentario.
- Detrás del humor, el contexto pesa: estos son los últimos partidos clasificatorios, y el juego ante Venezuela será la última aparición oficial de Messi como capitán en el Monumental.
La selección argentina llegó a Ezeiza un miércoles por la tarde para cerrar la fase de clasificación al Mundial 2026, con dos partidos pendientes ante Venezuela y Ecuador. Entre ellos, el último partido oficial de Lionel Messi como capitán en suelo argentino. Pero antes de que el fútbol tomara la palabra, lo hizo la moda.
Desde el estudio de ESPN, Oscar Ruggeri observaba las imágenes de las llegadas con creciente asombro. Messi descendió del avión de negro, con una pequeña cartera gris y negra de Hermès. Ruggeri no tardó en reclamar autoría: llevaba tres años usando bolso pequeño, y ahora el capitán hacía lo mismo. "Me copió, olvidate", dijo con indignación teatral. "Parece un modelo."
Leandro Paredes sumó su propia cuota de sorpresa al aparecer con una muñeca Labubu colgada del bolso, un coleccionable que dejó a Ruggeri genuinamente perplejo. El panel recorrió el resto de las llegadas con el mismo espíritu: Otamendi de camisa blanca y corbata negra con gorra, De Paul en campera oversized y jogging. "Están compitiendo a ver quién llega mejor vestido", bromeó Ruggeri.
La conversación se extendió hacia la selección francesa, donde Jules Koundé llegó con una falda negra. El comentario de Ruggeri fue más reflexivo que crítico: "Ahora es más normal", dijo, antes de imaginar cómo habrían reaccionado Bilardo o Menotti ante semejante escena décadas atrás. Era menos una opinión sobre la ropa que una constatación sobre el paso del tiempo.
Con la clasificación ya asegurada, estos partidos tienen otro peso: son despedidas. La moda, los bolsos, las muñecas y las faldas son detalles pequeños en una historia más grande sobre el fin de una era, sobre cómo marcamos los momentos de transición con lo que elegimos llevar puesto.
The Argentine national team touched down at Ezeiza airport on a Wednesday afternoon, and what might have been an ordinary arrival became the subject of spirited debate in a television studio across the city. The players were in Buenos Aires for the final stretch of World Cup qualifying—two matches against Venezuela and Ecuador that would mark, among other things, the last official home appearance for Lionel Messi in the light blue and white.
But it was not the matches that seized the attention of Oscar Ruggeri, the former World Cup-winning defender, as he watched the footage on ESPN's F90 program. It was what the players were wearing. Messi descended from the plane in black clothing, carrying a small gray and black handbag from Hermès, the French luxury house. The sight stopped Ruggeri cold. He had been carrying a small bag for three years, he said on air, and now here was Messi doing the same thing. "He copied me, forget about it," Ruggeri declared with mock indignation. "He looks like a model."
The handbag was not the only accessory to draw comment. Leandro Paredes, the Boca midfielder, had arrived with a Labubu doll tucked into his bag—a collectible figurine that prompted genuine bewilderment from Ruggeri. "What?" he exclaimed when his colleagues pointed it out. The moment became a running thread through the broadcast as the panel cycled through footage of the other arrivals. Nicolás Otamendi, the Benfica defender, had chosen a white shirt, black tie, and a baseball cap. Rodrigo De Paul, the Inter Miami midfielder, wore an oversized sports jacket and jogging pants, a look that seemed consistent with his usual style. "They're competing to see who can arrive dressed the best," Ruggeri suggested, half-joking.
The conversation drifted into speculation about Messi's handbag—whether it had been a gift or a purchase, what it had cost, which brand it actually was. These were the kinds of details that television panels thrive on, the small mysteries of celebrity life that invite endless commentary. But the tone remained light, almost affectionate. This was not criticism so much as observation, the kind of playful scrutiny that comes from watching people you know well step off a plane.
The discussion took a sharper turn when the panel shifted to the French national team, who were arriving for their own qualifying matches against Ukraine. When Jules Koundé, the Barcelona defender, emerged wearing a black skirt, Vignolo, the program's host, made a crack about what would have happened if such a thing had occurred decades earlier. Ruggeri picked up the thread. "Now it's more normal," he said, "but back then, imagine if someone showed up in a skirt. Can you imagine Enrique or Bilardo with a skirt?" The comment was less about fashion and more about the distance between eras, the way norms shift without anyone quite noticing when.
Argentina's qualification for the 2026 World Cup was already secure, which meant these final two matches carried a different weight. They were formalities in one sense, but also farewells. Messi would play his last official home game as captain in the Monumental stadium on Thursday against Venezuela, then the team would travel to Ecuador for the final match the following Tuesday. The fashion choices, the handbags, the dolls, the skirts—they were all small details in a larger story about time passing, about the end of an era, about the way we mark transitions with the things we carry and the clothes we wear.
Citações Notáveis
They're competing to see who can arrive dressed the best.— Oscar Ruggeri, on the players' fashion choices
Now it's more normal, but back then, imagine if someone showed up in a skirt. Can you imagine Enrique or Bilardo with a skirt?— Oscar Ruggeri, on how fashion norms have changed
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Ruggeri's comment about the handbag land so hard? It seems like a small thing.
Because he was claiming ownership of a trend, even if jokingly. He'd been carrying a small bag for years, and suddenly Messi—the most famous player in the world—shows up with one. It's funny, but it's also about visibility. Ruggeri's style didn't matter until Messi did it.
And the Labubu doll—was that actually surprising, or was it just television finding something to talk about?
A bit of both. Paredes brought a collectible toy in his bag, which is unusual enough to notice. But on television, you're looking for these moments. They're the texture of the story, the thing that makes it human instead of just reporting that players arrived.
Ruggeri's comment about the skirt and Bilardo—was he being critical of modern fashion, or nostalgic?
Neither, really. He was marking a boundary. He was saying: this is how much things have changed. Not judging it, just noting that the distance between then and now is real and visible.
Why does what players wear at the airport matter at all?
Because it's one of the few moments when they're not performing on the field. It's a choice they make when no one's asking them to be anything. And when you're watching the end of an era—Messi's last home game—you notice everything.