There are statements in football that resonate like a last-minute goal, shaking the sport to its core.

One such statement has recently come from Charles Rexach, a man who knows better than most what it means to recognize genius before the world does.

Rexach, the former Barcelona legend and the man who convinced the club to sign a frail 12-year-old Lionel Messi—paying for his hormone treatment and betting on his future greatness—has now spoken about the young Barcelona prodigy Lamine Yamal, and his words have surprised many.

Lamine Yamal, at just 17 years old, has already amassed more than 100 appearances for Barcelona’s first team, scoring over 20 goals and providing nearly 30 assists.

A left-footed talent with an astonishing ability for someone so young, Yamal has dazzled fans with skills that seem beyond his years.

In a club like Barcelona, known for its high standards and reluctance to hand out minutes lightly, Yamal’s rapid rise is remarkable.

Naturally, comparisons to Messi have begun to swirl, as the young player’s trajectory echoes the early days of the Argentine legend.

But Rexach urges caution.

Comparing is natural, he says, but equating the two is an entirely different matter.

Rexach is no ordinary commentator; he is the very person who changed Barcelona’s—and football’s—history by spotting Messi’s potential when others only saw a small boy struggling with growth issues.

When asked about Yamal and the often-heard phrase “the new Messi,” Rexach responded with a blend of respect, authority, and a touch of resignation.

He pointed out that Messi was more skillful, quicker in dribbling, and possessed a supersonic speed on the field.

Though Messi was not a traditional striker, he scored an extraordinary number of goals from a young age, more than anyone else.

Yamal, Rexach says, is a great player, but he doubts that the youngster will match Messi’s goal-scoring prowess or overall impact on the game.

It’s a tough assessment, but not a dismissal—rather a reality check against the hype that often surrounds young talents prematurely labeled as “the next big thing.”

Messi, whether one likes it or not, is a historical anomaly.

He dominated world football for 15 years, winning eight Ballon d’Or awards, shattering records at Barcelona, and finally crowning his career with a World Cup victory with Argentina at the age of 35.

How many players can say that? How many will? How many can even dream of coming close? Rexach encapsulates this by stating that Messi represents a before and after in football—not just because of what he did with the ball, but because he redefined what was expected from a footballer, turning the impossible into routine.

So what about Yamal? Is he a genuine phenomenon, or is he another victim of the modern media’s impatience to crown the next idol? When looking purely at statistics, Yamal’s numbers at 17 already surpass those Messi had at the same age—more games, more goals, more assists.

But football is not just numbers.

There is something intangible that statistics can’t capture: the aura, the influence, the symbolic weight a player carries.

By the age of 19, Messi was already the player who could make crowds rise to their feet, decide matches with a glance, score hat-tricks in El Clásico and walk off as if it were nothing.

Such moments don’t come every year, or even every decade—perhaps once in 50 years.

As Rexach puts it, it’s unfair to load such a burden onto a teenager who isn’t even old enough to legally buy a beer yet.

Maybe we should let Yamal grow and enjoy his football without forcing him to live in the shadow of a legend whose story is still fresh and monumental.

Yamal has all the tools to become a star.

He could win Ballon d’Or awards, shine in World Cups, lift Champions League trophies, and break records.

But what Messi achieved is not something that simply repeats.

It is remembered, told, and passed down like a fairy tale that begins: “Once upon a time, there was a boy from Rosario who made magic.”

When Rexach speaks, people listen—because he saw Messi first.

And if he says it will take another 50 years to see a player like him again, perhaps it’s better to stop searching and start appreciating what we have.

The football world is filled with imitators, but what it truly needs is originality.

Each generation deserves its own heroes.

The Yamal’s should be Yamal, and the Messi’s should remain legends.

Comparisons, while inevitable, should never overshadow the present moment and the joy football brings today.

What do you think? Does Lamine Yamal have what it takes to write his own story, or are we once again falling into the trap of endless comparisons? Share your thoughts in the comments.