Congratulations Cristiano Ronaldo on your Golden Ball. He now has a pair. Hurrah! And whereas Lionel Messi always has that slightly bemused look when surrounded by admirers - as if he were some furtive woodland creature who gets thrust suddenly into bright sunlight - CR7 simply bathes in adulation. Adulation is his shower gel.
I'm not sure there's been a vainer footballer. Okay Nani has a statue of himself in his drive way (standing up, I believe, when clearly the statue should be sat on a bench) but Cristiano's got a whole fuck-off museum. He's only 28. He's not exactly an archaeological artefact.
The museum is full of all things Cristiano. Me, I thought the waxwork of him had too small an Adam's apple, meself. What this lad's got is more your Adam's grapefruit.
Of course there's no doubt the lad deserves it (not the museum, the award) because he is an extraordinarily good footballer. I used to call him the Gelled Tumbler, but these days he's worked out that staying on his feet is much more profitable. Drogba improved when he learned this fact. Perhaps young Adnan Januzaj will bear it in mind. (Unless he really wants to play for England - I mean the last 18-year old I can remember falling over that easily was.. oh, um, Michael Owen. Ahem.)
So Messi misses out, mainly because he has had an injury. Thing is - and whisper this as I don't want it getting out - I actually think Ronaldo is marginally the better player. Before you all whinge your tits off, let me remind you that this is a bit like deciding which of the three stars in the Orion's belt you prefer.
Now I adore the twinkling toes and dazzling control of Lionel. Sometimes it's as if the ball is following him like a lovelorn puppy. And I love his humility too. Obviously he's got self-confidence, but he's not particularly the Big I-am. Anyone who allows a child to cut his hair using a bowl and toy scissors can hardly be classified as vain. (I'm not sure that's true but look at the evidence. Even Sepp Blatter has suggested that Cristiano spends too much time at the hairdresser's. Although looking at the old, fat, bald dictator. there may be a touch of envy in there.)
But here's the thing. Barca is built around Messi. The national team never has been, quite. Messi is brilliant with Barca and yet is unable to make Argentina tick. You might argue that Argentina is so blessed with brilliance that he need not dominate in the same way as did his predecessor Maradona, who single-handed steered his team to victory in 1986. Okay, God helped a little.
Now the Big-Headed Curator of His Own Museum is a different case. His solo rescue mission for Portugal in the play-off with Sweden was extraordinary. He is their one world-class player. We are often told Rooney is that for England. Since becoming old enough to buy himself a pint, I've not particularly noticed it. For Portugal to get anywhere they need him Ronaldo in tip-top form. And when it counted, he was.
But there's more to it than that. In his early days at United, Ronaldo was Show-Pony Incarnate. He had more step-overs than a pedestrian on a crowded beach, but there was no end-product. Nani, in other words.
All he's done since is worked his golden balls off. These days it's hard to think of anything he can't do. He makes a hot knife through butter look distinctly slow. He's as good in the air as Andy Carroll, but more stable on a bar stool. He pretty much invented his own free-kick so that he can make a dead-ball dip and swerve and veer like a jetfighter flown by an inattentive monkey.
And more than that, he's hard as nails, takes plenty of stick, and still gets up and goes for some more. He loves a bit of a good tackle himself, they say. Or is that just a rumour? Indeed the only thing not going for him is simply the fact that he doesn't need me or anyone else to tell him all this.
But if that's the best we can criticise him for, then so what? If I was that good, I'd be flaming insufferable.
Of course if he was English we'd probably treat him with a lot of suspicion. That museum thing, the falling over, the modelling in your pants all the time. Your own brand of clothing. We don't need that. All right Becks did it, but we didn't like him much for quite a time until it turned out he was actually quite a nice chap and ever so 'umble with it.
So, yes, it's a bit galling sometimes when CR7 (and that is bloody annoying as an abbreviation isn't it? Makes him sound like not so much a man as a specially constructed super cyborg) - it's galling when CR7 struts around like he's the best thing to come out of Portugal since them little vanilla custard tart thingummies. He's nowhere near that good.
And if we overlook the Special/Happy One's credentials - and ignore the pioneering work of Bartholomew Diaz, Ferdinand Magellan and Henry the Navigator - you might decide he was like the top Portuguese ever.
Except, except... there was one bloke who passed away just recently who by all accounts had every one of the qualities that Ronaldo has. Plus he was a lovely fella. It was good that the current World Footballer of the Year was able to dedicate the award to Eusebio. And he sort of meant it, too.
Meanwhile Cristiano plans to win it next year. If Portugal make any progress in Brazil in the summer, it will be for only one reason. I do think he's the best player in the world. And quite conceivably of all time.
Just don't tell him I said that.