There is a rich history shared by Lionel Messi and Thomas Müller, though it lacks the clear-cut rivalry often expected between two football legends.
Saturday’s MLS Cup final brings them together once again, opposing each other in the twilight of their careers. Yet, their relationship has never been defined by a direct, decades-long duel.
How could it be? Inter Miami’s Messi is a phenomenon, arguably the greatest spectacle football has ever seen. In contrast, Vancouver Whitecaps star Müller has never been described in such terms—and given his personality, he would likely laugh at the idea.
A statistic frequently cited before kickoff at Chase Stadium is 7-to-3: in 10 meetings for club and country, Messi has been on the winning side only three times. Yet, comparing them head-to-head as if they were boxers in direct opposition feels absurd.
Messi is Messi. Whenever a team faces Barcelona, Paris Saint-Germain, or Argentina, their primary concern is him. The reverse has never been true. Müller was always part of a collective threat when Bayern Munich or Germany took the field.
They are different individuals with distinct backgrounds and personalities, making it difficult to fully assess their shared history.

The 2014 World Cup final brought despair for Messi (top left) and triumph for Müller (13). (Francois Xavier Marit / AFP / Getty Images)
Eleven years ago, just before the 2014 World Cup final, Messi led Argentina onto the pitch in Rio, walking solemnly at the head of the line. As he passed the World Cup trophy, he kept his eyes fixed ahead, avoiding any contact with the trophy to not tempt fate.
He was walking toward destiny, immortality, and a revered place in the Argentinian soul once occupied only by Diego Maradona. The atmosphere was heavy with significance.
A few steps behind Messi, Müller entered the field with a jaunty stride and a boyish smile, almost as if he had mistakenly arrived at the biggest stage in world sport instead of a local Bavarian Oberliga game.
This character—self-deprecating, quick to laugh, and lighthearted about his success—is the Müller fans know. Yet, once he crosses the touchline, a fierce, animalistic competitor emerges, which explains much of his success.
Messi is arguably the greatest player in history, but few have matched Müller’s fierce competitiveness and team-first mentality. If Messi is the ultimate soloist, Müller has been one of European football’s most vital components.
It is useful to consider this perspective when recalling their encounters.
The 2014 final ended with Mario Götze’s winning goal. The match is remembered for Gonzalo Higuaín’s missed chance in the first half, when, left unmarked by Toni Kroos’s errant back-header, he rushed a shot wide.
More importantly, Germany effectively neutralized Messi. He had only 69 touches in 120 minutes, a result of Germany’s 64 percent possession and a rotating cast of man-markers who limited Messi’s involvement, confining most of his touches to the middle third and only five inside the penalty box.
Müller was more involved, with 80 touches mostly in the attacking third. Though he had little direct impact on the outcome, Germany’s superior team and depth meant they did not rely on any single player.
This dynamic was established a year earlier when Bayern Munich crushed Barcelona in the 2013 Champions League semifinal en route to winning the final against Borussia Dortmund.

Messi and Müller were frequent Champions League foes, representing Barcelona and Bayern respectively. (Josep Lago / AFP via Getty Images)
Before the first leg, Messi was troubled by thigh issues, a topic that dominated pre-match discussions. Meanwhile, Müller dominated the game, scoring a scruffy back-post header, creating the second goal, screening Jordi Alba to clear the way for a third, and scoring the fourth himself, sealing a 4-0 victory.
He also scored in the second leg at Camp Nou, completing a 7-0 aggregate rout. It was a commanding Bayern win, with Müller’s performances both a cause and effect of their dominance.
Kicker, Germany’s leading football magazine, praised him highly, awarding a top rating of 1 for his work rate, distance covered, and exemplary team contribution.
Two years later, in the Champions League semifinal, Barcelona and Messi took their revenge. Messi opened the scoring at 77 minutes with a shot past Manuel Neuer from the edge of the box. Three minutes later, he scored one of the most iconic goals in Champions League history, dribbling past Jerome Boateng—who fell dramatically—before calmly placing the ball into the far corner.
Kicker described Messi’s performance as:
"Outstanding, simply world-class. He made the difference. Granted, he occasionally disappeared from the game, but he was in the right place at the right time."
These appraisals highlight two distinct types of excellence: Müller’s constant, persistent effort and team play versus Messi’s intermittent but breathtaking brilliance.
In a different era, perhaps without Cristiano Ronaldo, they might have been great rivals. Like José Mourinho and Pep Guardiola, Messi and Müller represent contrasting facets of the game—different interpretations of greatness, talent, and sporting upbringing.
Stories abound about Messi’s rise at La Masia, from the contract on a napkin to his initial shyness in Catalonia, all part of his legend.
In contrast, Müller’s early career is less discussed. A Bavarian boy who was unremarkable until he wasn’t, he announced himself on the world stage by scoring twice against England in the 2010 World Cup quarterfinal. After the 4-1 victory, Müller appeared on German television pitchside to greet his grandparents back home.
That tournament introduced Müller to the world. Germany then faced Argentina—Messi’s first competitive match against Müller—which ended 4-0. Müller scored the opener as Germany dominated Maradona’s unbalanced side, embarrassing and eliminating them.
The same fate befell Messi in 2020. In his last meeting with Müller and Bayern as a Barcelona player, he suffered a humiliating 8-2 defeat in the Covid-quarantined Champions League quarterfinal in Lisbon.
Müller played with the same style and expressions as in 2010, 2013, and 2014. Messi, like in Cape Town in 2010, watched another team collapse under the weight of misplaced confidence in the world’s best player.

Both Inter Miami and the Vancouver Whitecaps are chasing their first MLS Cup championship. (Leonardo Fernandez / Getty Images)
For Argentina, the 2020 defeat was a result of tactical dysfunction; for Barcelona, it was the consequence of years of strategic missteps. Müller’s consistency and durability reflect his stable environment at Bayern, which, despite its own politics and drama, has never matched the chaos Messi has endured at his lowest points.
They are different players on different platforms.
Can a rivalry truly exist despite such disparity? It is hard to say. Messi and Müller have led parallel football lives, their careers serving as parables for managing clubs and national teams during a period of rapid change in football.
Even in North America, Messi is the centerpiece of the glamorous MLS powerhouse Inter Miami, while Müller embraces the understated, underdog spirit of the Vancouver Whitecaps.
Both have reached the pinnacle of the sport, albeit by different paths. Whatever the nature of their connection, there is still time for one last dance in the fading sun.
3 months ago