Watching Lionel Messi at the 2026 World Cup, I found myself turning over one of the oldest questions a working life presents

Watching Lionel Messi at the 2026 World Cup, I found myself turning over one of the oldest questions a working life presents

We are often told: leave when the ovation is loudest. It is sound advice. But I no longer believe it is the whole truth.

I believe that there is a time to step aside, when others must be given room to lead, or when we can no longer serve as we once did. But there is also a quieter danger: leaving too soon, not because we are finished, but because we are afraid of what a stumble might do to how we are remembered.

A stumble in the second act does not erase the first, and an exit timed to applause is no guarantee that history will remember you at all.

Messi could have walked away after 2022. Trophy in hand, story complete, the perfect close to a perfect career. Instead, he came back.

He risked comparison with the man he used to be, the possibility of falling short in front of a watching world, the chance that this second act would dim what the first had built. Argentina did not lift the cup this time.

But at thirty-nine, his composure and his experience still carried his country to a final. That is not a small thing.

His legacy was not diminished by trying again. If anything, it was enriched.

That is the deeper truth.

Do not retire from your purpose because you fear failure more than you love the work.

If your work remains honest, your contribution still matters, and you still have something left to give, then keep going.

A life well lived is measured as much by the courage to continue as by the wisdom to know when to stop.

Conquer fear. Keep playing the game of life.

Osita Chidoka
20 July 2026