Riyad Mahrez stood under the floodlights with a smile that told a story. The Algerian captain had just helped his country qualify for the 2026 FIFA World Cup with a 3–0 victory over Somalia. The air was electric, but when the microphones gathered around him after the match, his tone changed slightly — calm, reflective, and teasingly honest. When a reporter asked if fans would see him again at the 2030 World Cup, Mahrez gave a small laugh and said, “No, the 2026 one will be my last. I’m not Cristiano Ronaldo.” It was a lighthearted comment, but behind the joke was the quiet admission of a footballer who knew his time on the biggest stage was drawing to a close.
For Mahrez, football had always been about timing — knowing when to dribble, when to pass, and when to walk away. His decision to call the 2026 World Cup his final one was not made overnight. The Algerian winger, now at Al Ahli in Saudi Arabia, had enjoyed one of the most decorated careers in African football history — from his early struggles in France to becoming a Premier League champion and one of Pep Guardiola’s trusted players at Manchester City. But now, at 34, he understood the realities of time. Not everyone could play like Ronaldo at 40.
His smile after that comment said it all — admiration for Ronaldo’s longevity, mixed with the humility of accepting his own limits. The crowd around him chuckled, but it was more than just a joke. It was Mahrez’s gentle farewell to the endless expectations that came with being a footballer at the top for so long.
When asked about Ronaldo’s earlier comments that the Saudi Pro League was one of the top five leagues in the world, Mahrez gave another honest answer. He disagreed — but respectfully. “No,” he said. “I think the five big European leagues are ahead, and then we can start to compete with the others. We’re not too far off, though. After that, the goal isn’t to be the best league right now. We’re looking at the long term.”
His words reflected maturity. Mahrez wasn’t trying to sell dreams or make exaggerated claims about Saudi football. Instead, he acknowledged the reality — that the league was improving, but still had a long journey ahead. “Those like me who have arrived are here at the beginning of this adventure,” he continued. “We’re a bit like pioneers. We’re helping them make this league stronger. And frankly, over my two seasons, I’ve felt progress — in the teams, the coaches, the tactics, and the organization. They’re trying to get there, and I think they will. They’re putting in the effort, and they really want it.”
It was the kind of statement that defined Mahrez — humble, but confident. Unlike many foreign stars who treated their Saudi adventure as a final paycheck, Mahrez saw himself as part of a building process. He was helping plant something that would grow long after he retired.
The 2026 World Cup would mark the final act of an extraordinary international career. From his dazzling performances in the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations — where he led Algeria to victory — to the heartbreaks that followed, Mahrez had seen it all with his national team. For Algerian fans, his announcement was bittersweet. They adored him, not just for his skill, but for his calm leadership, his elegance on the ball, and the pride he brought to the green and white shirt.
In hat 3–0 victory over Somalia, Mahrez was again the heartbeat of the team. His goal came from a moment of magic — a curling shot from outside the box that reminded everyone of his City days. It wasn’t just a goal to win a game; it was a statement that even near the end, Mahrez’s touch remained as beautiful as ever.
As he left the pitch that night, fans chanted his name. They knew this was the beginning of the end. One more World Cup, one more chance to watch their hero on the global stage. And Mahrez himself knew it too. He wasn’t planning to stretch his career for the sake of numbers or records. He wanted to leave while his name still meant excellence.
The comparison with Cristiano Ronaldo was inevitable. The Portuguese legend, now in his forties, continues to defy time, breaking records and maintaining elite fitness. Mahrez admired Ronaldo deeply, but he was different. “I’m not Cristiano,” he joked — and that line captured his philosophy. For him, football was art, not obsession. It was something to be enjoyed, not something to be chased until the last drop of energy.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the football world, Ronaldo was still writing his story. The five-time Ballon d’Or winner had extended his contract with Al-Nassr until 2027, determined to play at the 2026 World Cup — and possibly beyond. “A dream come true,” Ronaldo wrote on Instagram when Portugal was announced as one of the hosts for the 2030 World Cup, alongside Spain and Morocco. “Portugal will host the World Cup 2030 and make us proud. Together!”
For Ronaldo, retirement was not just about age — it was about legacy. He wanted to end his career in front of his people, on home soil, wearing the captain’s armband one last time. For Mahrez, legacy was different. It wasn’t about being eternal; it was about being remembered for grace and contribution.
Both men were now in Saudi Arabia — two icons at different stages of their football journey. Ronaldo, still chasing greatness, pushing the boundaries of human endurance. Mahrez, savoring the final chapters, leaving behind a trail of memories for Algeria and Manchester City fans.
Their paths reflected two philosophies of football longevity. Ronaldo’s way was about extending dominance. Mahrez’s was about ending beautifully. Both inspired millions, but Mahrez’s self-awareness gave his story a poetic touch. He knew when the music would stop — and he wanted to bow out while still dancing.
In Saudi Arabia, where football was rapidly transforming, Mahrez’s influence had been huge. Alongside stars like Karim Benzema, Neymar, and Ronaldo, he helped shape the league’s identity. When he joined Al Ahli, many doubted if he still had the hunger after leaving Manchester City. But season after season, he proved his worth — leading, scoring, mentoring, and representing professionalism. His words about progress weren’t flattery. He had seen it firsthand — better coaches, stronger organization, and a growing sense of ambition among local players.
Mahrez’s decision to retire after 2026 was also about family and peace. Years of travel, pressure, and competition had taken their toll. He wanted to enjoy football one last time without feeling trapped by it. For him, the World Cup in North America would be the perfect farewell — a celebration, not a burden.
As the 2026 tournament approached, Algeria’s fans started to dream. Could Mahrez lead them to one more historic run? The team had talent — young stars emerging, energy everywhere — but Mahrez’s leadership would be irreplaceable. Every World Cup needs a veteran, a calming presence in the storm, and Mahrez would be that for Algeria.
Behind the laughter of “I’m not Cristiano Ronaldo,” there was a man reflecting on everything he’d achieved. From playing street football in Sarcelles to lifting the Premier League trophy at the Etihad, from winning the Africa Cup to captaining his nation, Mahrez’s journey had been nothing short of cinematic.
Even his critics admitted that no African winger in the modern era had his finesse. His left foot, his balance, his calmness under pressure — all hallmarks of a player who never relied on power but pure intelligence. In Manchester City’s era of control and precision, Mahrez fit like a glove. Guardiola trusted him in big games, knowing he could decide moments with a single movement.
And yet, despite all that success, Mahrez never lost his humility. His comment about Ronaldo wasn’t a dig — it was admiration wrapped in humor. He respected Ronaldo’s drive but preferred to follow his own rhythm. In a world where many players chased longevity for image or records, Mahrez chose ontentment.
When asked about retirement plans, he once said in another interview that he wanted to return to Algeria someday and help develop football there. That’s who he was — someone who always remembered where he came from.
The story of Mahrez and Ronaldo symbolizes two different faces of football greatness. Ronaldo represents eternal hunger — the refusal to fade. Mahrez represents acceptance — the beauty of knowing when to stop. Both are rare, both inspiring in their own right.
As fans debate who the real GOAT is, Mahrez quietly prepares for his curtain call. His eyes are set on 2026 — one last dance in green, one more chance to inspire millions of Algerians watching from homes, cafés, and stadiums around the world.
When the final whistle of his last World Cup match blows, Mahrez won’t cry or look back in regret. He’ll smile, just like he did after that Somalia game, knowing he gave football everything — his talent, his time, and his truth.
And somewhere in that moment, maybe Cristiano Ronaldo will be watching too — a man still running, still chasing. Two different roads, one shared love for the game.
For football fans, Mahrez’s words — “I’m not Cristiano Ronaldo” — will echo not as a limitation, but as a lesson. You don’t have to be eternal to be great. Sometimes, knowing when to stop is what makes your story unforgettable.
As the world gears up for the 2026 FIFA World Cup, the excitement grows. For Algeria, it will be more than just another tournament. It will be the final chapter of Riyad Mahrez’s international story — the farewell of a magician who turned dreams into dribbles and moments into memories.
Football will move on, as it always does. New stars will rise. New records will be broken. But the elegance of Mahrez — his calm smile, his gentle humor, his love for the game — will remain in the hearts of fans forever.
For him, 2026 won’t just be an ending. It will be the perfect goodbye. The kind that leaves you smiling through tears, whispering the same line he said with laughter that night — “I’m not Cristiano Ronaldo.” But he didn’t need to be. He was Riyad Mahrez — and that was more than enough.
