Copyright Baltimore Sun
I saw a commercial the other day that really upset me. I just can’t let it go. It wasn’t anything political, controversial or distasteful. Here’s what it was: Lionel Messi — global icon, soccer’s GOAT, the world’s most famous athlete — walking from the parking lot into a Lowe’s. That’s right, the hardware store. It sounds like one of those wacky AI hallucinations, but this is an actual, honest-to-God, real-life sponsorship. I find this pairing to be highly inconceivable. Insulting, really. Because let’s be honest: Lionel Messi does not shop at Lowe’s. Never has, never will. And yet, that’s what this ludicrous sponsorship is asking us to believe. I refuse. Some celebrity athlete sponsorships make sense. Lebron and Gatorade, Shaq and Icy Hot, Charles Barkley and Subway. Others are a bit of a stretch, like Stephen Curry and CarMax, or Caitlin Clark and StateFarm. But I’ll give those the benefit of the doubt — everyone needs to rent a car from time to time, and everyone needs insurance. But this whole business with Messi and Lowe’s, well, it’s like a sponsorship between Prince William and Waffle House, or Jeff Bezos and Burlington Coat Factory. It beggars belief. Pop quiz: It’s Saturday morning. Where’s Messi? Packing Chase Stadium as he dons the flamingo pink of Inter Miami? Or how about training with the reigning world champion Argentine national team for the 2026 World Cup? Nope. He’s re-caulking the bathtub, and after that he’s firing up the weed whacker and edging the lawn. C’mon. Here’s the deal, Lowe’s. The next time I run into Lionel Messi renting a power-washer in Aisle 4, I’ll eat crow. But until then, I refuse to buy into your chicanery for even one second. I refuse to waste any more time thinking or writing about this. There’s something admirable about your audacity, but I’m not buying it — I’m going to Home Depot.
