An enganche is the classic South American #10, the “hook” of the team, the player who connects midfield to attack and dictates the rhythm of the game. He operates in the pocket just behind the forwards, receives between the lines, slows or accelerates play, and creates chances through vision and timing rather than constant movement. The enganche is not defined by running beyond defenders, but by pulling teammates into the match, controlling space, and deciding how the attack unfolds.
Because they also scored many goals, the world re-categorized them. In Messi’s case especially, over 800 career goals forces a narrative shift. A player with that output must be a forward, a striker, a false 9. The label becomes inevitable. But I think that framing misses something fundamental.
When I watch Lionel Messi, and when I study Diego Maradona, I do not see players whose first instinct is to finish moves. I see players whose first instinct is to control them.
I did not watch Maradona live. I grew up watching Messi. So my understanding of Maradona comes from footage, matches replayed, context studied after the fact. But even through a screen, the pattern is clear.
Both players think like enganches. They receive to turn, to scan, to hook teammates into motion. The goals are not the origin of their game. They are the consequence of it.
That is why I prefer the term “Total Enganche.” Not because it is statistical, not because xG plus xA equals identity, but because both collapsed creation and execution into one center of gravity. They were forwards who thought like playmakers. That is the distinction. They did not abandon the enganche role. They evolved it.
Maradona scaled street football to the highest level. The “pibe” archetype, the kid who refuses to give up the ball, who dribbles because that is how he controls the rhythm of the game, became the spine of a World Cup-winning side.
At Napoli, he was not floating inside a dominant machine. He was the machine. Napoli were not structurally superior to the northern giants. They were emotionally and technically anchored by one player who functioned as the hook for every transition.
He did not simply assist. He dictated where attacks began, how long they lasted, and when they ended. Even when standing still, he altered defensive spacing. That is the gravity of the #10. Defenders hesitate because he might turn. Midfielders collapse because he might slip a runner through. Space bends around him.
What stands out in old footage is not just the dribbling, but the pauses. He slows the game to his internal rhythm. That is pure enganche behavior. A striker attacks space. An enganche manipulates it.
Messi’s tactical labels often obscure his identity. The “false 9” era at FC Barcelona under Pep Guardiola is frequently described as a striker innovation and while that is correct, there’s another perspective.
It was a structural solution designed to protect his instincts. Dropping centrally was not about vacating the box. It was about centralizing the game. Messi wanted touches, angles, passing lanes. He wanted to hook teammates into runs.
In his later years, especially from 2018 onward, the identity becomes even clearer. He walks more. He scans more. He sprints less, but influences more. That version of Messi is the ultimate enganche. He finds a pocket, pauses, and then releases a weighted pass that reorganizes the entire defensive line.
Even in the hyper-physical modern game, he maintained “La Pausa,” that Argentine rhythm control that allows a player to slow chaos into clarity. That is not a forward’s instinct. That is the soul of the #10.
Both players thrived in the most crowded 10 yards of the pitch. The “phone booth” zone, where space disappears and decisions must be immediate.
What separates them from others is not just balance or dribbling. It is geometry. The through-ball is their signature weapon, but not just any through-ball. It is delayed. It is weighted to arrive at the precise second the defender relaxes.
Maradona to Caniggia. Messi to Alba. The pattern repeats across decades. The pass does not simply find a runner. It invents the run. That is the hook. The teammate moves because the passer makes the movement inevitable.
Their low center of gravity was not just aesthetic. It was functional. It allowed them to protect the ball while scanning, absorbing contact without losing vision. That combination, balance plus awareness, is the technical foundation of the enganche lineage.
In Argentina, the #10 is not a tactical role. It is an inheritance. The player wearing it is expected to be the emotional and creative center of the nation.Maradona embraced that weight. Messi had to grow into it.
Early in his career with the Argentina national football team, Messi was often judged against a ghost. He was compared to Maradona not just in skill, but in symbolic presence. For years, he was seen as brilliant but incomplete in that cultural sense.
The shift came when he stopped being a dribbling winger and became the Director of Operations. By 2022, he was not just scoring. He was orchestrating entire tournaments. That is when the enganche identity fully crystallized at international level.
Both proved something crucial. An enganche is not a luxury if he produces the output of an entire front three. When creativity and scoring live in the same player, the “luxury” label dies.
Now that both have defined the modern enganche, the question inevitably arises. Who comes next?
I think the role itself has become fragmented. Modern systems distribute responsibility. The creative 8 drops deeper. The winger inverts. The striker links play. What Messi and Maradona embodied in one body is now often split across three players.
That does not mean the role is impossible. It means the conditions are rare. To replicate them, you need tactical freedom, technical superiority, and psychological dominance aligned at once. That alignment is uncommon.
Maradona and Mess perfected the role of the enganche. They showed that the most dangerous place on the pitch is not the penalty spot. It is the space just behind it, where a player can see everything and decide everything.
I did not watch Maradona live. I experienced Messi in real time. But studying both, the lineage feels undeniable. They were not simply goal scorers who happened to create. They were hooks who happened to finish better than most people in history. And that distinction matters.
