Inter Miami seals its villainous turn after Leagues Cup final disgrace

The first two years and one month of Lionel Messi in Miami glowed with positivity. They began with sparkling soccer and majestic free kicks, with mainstream cachet and organic buzz. They were interrupted by injury, then a playoff upset; and sure, over time, the buzz died down. But they elevated MLS. They entertained fans. The Messi-era Inter Miami story, on fields and balance sheets, at least superficially, was a merry one.

Until Sunday.

At the final whistle of a 3-0 Leagues Cup final loss to the Seattle Sounders, Luis Suárez, Sergio Busquets & Co. took their frustrations out on Sounders players.

They incited a melee that marred Seattle’s feel-good story, and turned themselves into something many MLS fans always hoped they’d become: villains.

Suárez in particular sparked disgust. Off to the side, slightly removed from the punches and headlocks, after the initial heat of the brawl, he jawed with longtime Sounders security director Gene Ramirez. He stepped on Ramirez’s foot, an apparently intentional ploy to prevent the middle-aged man from escaping his fiery words. Then he spit in Ramirez’s face.

Cameras captured the spit. Videos went viral like a Messi free kick. And they gave some MLS fans proof of what they’d suspected all along: this, the superteam that coalesced around Messi in Miami, was a team to be despised.

For two years, that sentiment existed as an undercurrent. Everyone latched on to the early wave of Messi Mania; but pretty soon, for some, jealousy and annoyance seeped in. Supporters of other clubs grew sick of the pink lens through which media and marketing departments came to view the league. Some felt that their own supporters’ cultures were more organic than Miami’s. Some felt that their own players were suddenly being overshadowed and that their clubs were overlooked, replaceable cogs in a Messi-fueled machine.

When Suárez joined Messi, Busquets and Jordi Alba, and several young South American talents followed, some were convinced that Miami was bending or circumventing spending restrictions — but they didn’t have proof.

Some hated the sense that the league owed a debt of gratitude to Miami and its lead owner, Jorge Mas. They hated that everyone, from refs to commissioner Don Garber to FIFA, would surely give Messi and Miami favorable treatment. But there was no one moment they could point to and say: Look! Blatant favoritism! This is BS!

Some liked how Messi and Mas challenged the league to improve, to be self-critical, to accelerate. But others loathed their arrogance. They watched Miami’s stars berate referees. They heard players and coaches moan about roster rules. They saw starting lineups with zero American players. They saw Messi’s confidants replacing respected MLS executives. They saw a team they desperately wanted to dislike, but … why?

Reasons were often difficult to pinpoint.

Messi’s goals and assists, meanwhile, were irrefutable antidotes. Inter’s charge to the 2024 Supporters’ Shield was unassailable. Even Suárez, perhaps the most infamous villain of his soccer era, was brilliant as a footballer and reasonably well-behaved as a human.

But all of that changed on Sunday. In the streets of Seattle, traveling Inter Miami supporters clashed with their hosts. Inside Lumen Field, the Sounders put on a dazzling display of homegrown passion and might; and Inter Miami?

They tried, and failed, to win the game.

Within seconds of losing it, once brawling could no longer cost them a shot at a title, they brawled — or, in the euphemistic words of Sounders coach Brian Schmetzer, “frustrations led to some things that shouldn’t happen on the field.”

In a very brief postgame news conference, Miami coach Javier Mascherano — who himself had been red carded in the quarterfinals — took no responsibility for his players’ actions. “I don’t have anything to say,” Mascherano said. Nor has Suárez said anything. There have been no explanations, only a vague and irresponsible suggestion from Mascherano that there might have been a “provocation.” And so, the public’s response has been near-unanimous.

Most of the discourse has targeted Suárez, because of the spit, and also because of other mouth-related incidents in his past. But some of it targeted Inter Miami more broadly. Some of it used adjectives like “childish” and “classless.” Or, in Spanish: “lamentable” (regrettable) and “desagradable” (disgusting).

This, for now and the foreseeable future, fairly or unfairly, is who Inter Miami will be. As the Herons chase an MLS Cup (and perhaps even another Supporters’ Shield), they will do so less as a Messi-inspired phenomenon, more so as villains.

(Top photo: Lindsey Wasson/AP Photo)