Performances like Leo Messi's against Manchester City, in which he served up 45 minutes of exquisite total football for which no words will suffice, elevate the beautiful game to an art.

World football could do with a museum to house not trophies, records and egos - we already have an overload of such tedious trappings - but rather other joys and jewels. Namely, Garrincha's dribbling, Zinedine Zidane's eponymous turn, Alfredo Di Stéfano's mix of perspiration and inspiration, Diego Maradona's mazy runs, Franz Beckenbauer's poise, George Best's impudence and Bobby Charlton's bald patch.

Let me add Leônidas's bicycle kick, Romário's famous swivel in the 'Clásico' in 1994 (known in Spain as a 'cow's tail'), Ferenc Puskás's cannonballs, Paco Gento's lightning pace, Gerd Müller's bombs, Ronaldinho's smile, Johan Cruyff's shifty eyes, the two Ronaldos with their insatiable appetite for goals and Duncan Edwards's big heart.

Not to mention Gigi Meroni's butterfly wings, Pelé's manifold mind-boggling moments, Sócrates's back-heel penalty, Obdulio Varela supreme leadership, Arthur Friedenreich's curly hair, Adolfo Pedernera's ineffable ability to find space, Nándor Hidegkuti's surges, László Kubala's instep… and thousands of other collector's items.

Football affords us wonders such as those 45 majestic minutes from Messi, a relentless, runaway artist whose every step is a brushstroke. The Argentine wizard's magic is impossible to do justice in writing: football is an art and, like Messi, it must be beheld in all its glory rather than measured in words.