Ballon d’Or: How It Became Football’s Biggest Prize |

Few awards in the world of sport carry the weight, glamour, and anticipation of the Ballon d’Or. Each year, when the golden sphere is lifted into the air, it feels less like the presentation of a prize and more like the coronation of footballing royalty. It has become a moment that defines eras, sparks debate across continents, and cements legacies in the collective memory of fans.

TODAY, millions of soccer fans will watch from around the world, streaming the drama as each ballot is dissected for weeks and months to come. The stage, the cameras, the global anticipation, it is a spectacle unimaginable to the award’s pioneers.

When Hungarian forward Flórián Albert was presented with the Ballon d’Or in 1967, his wife Irén was the only witness. There was no gala, no spotlight, no chants of “Ballon d’Or” ringing from stadium terraces. Just a kitchen table and a golden trinket quietly passed into the hands of a great player.

In that difference lies the story of how football’s most prestigious individual honour has morphed from modest recognition into a cultural phenomenon, from afterthought to obsession, from magazine stunt to sporting holy grail.

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An Award Born from a Magazine Office

An Award Born from a Magazine Office

The Ballon d’Or began in 1956, inside the offices of France Football. At the time, Europe was still piecing itself together after the Second World War, and the modern game was only beginning to take shape. The European Cup had just been born, television was tentatively broadcasting matches, and international competition was sparse.

The award was the brainchild of Jacques Ferran and his colleagues, who were looking for ways to boost readership during the winter months when matches were often postponed on frozen pitches. They decided to crown the best European footballer each year. It was, as Vincent Garcia, later France Football’s editor, would recall, “a concept born with the carefree spirit of a one-night stand.”

Nobody imagined the impact it would eventually have. “The Ballon d’Or, at first, was just another trophy,” Ferran admitted decades later.

Sixteen European journalists cast the first ballots. The inaugural winner, Stanley Matthews of Blackpool, received a compact version of the trophy in his club’s modest facilities. Known as the “Wizard of the Dribble,” Matthews was already 41 when he won, a nod to artistry as much as to numbers.

The idea caught on. Each year, the award offered a snapshot of football’s evolution. Alfredo Di Stéfano captured the glamour of Real Madrid’s dominance. Johan Cruyff’s three wins reflected the rise of Total Football. Michel Platini’s trio embodied French elegance in the 1980s.

While the winners were celebrated, the Ballon d’Or was still understated.

When Glory Was Quiet

Ballon d’Or: How It Became Football’s Biggest Prize

In its first decades, the Ballon d’Or was recognition, not obsession. The moments of triumph were often unremarkable.

Flórián Albert’s wife was his lone witness in 1967.

Luis Suárez, Barcelona’s great midfielder of the 1960s, remembered being handed the award during an ordinary league game, then going home with it under his arm. Bobby Charlton discovered he had won in 1966 by listening to a radio bulletin on the team bus, still sour from a Boxing Day defeat. Michael Owen would later joke that when he won in 2001, he barely knew what the trophy was.

Allan Simonsen, Denmark’s 1977 winner, put it plainly: the Ballon d’Or was never part of his childhood dreams. He had wanted to play professionally, to take his mother to a game in Italy, to wear the Danish shirt. The golden ball was not on the list. Yet when he learned of his triumph while queuing for a grilled sausage, he was overwhelmed.

“Every day, people talk to me about it,” he later said. “Even today. You have no idea how proud I am to have won this trophy.”

Back then, the award was a consequence of success. Few chased it deliberately.

A Shift in Power and Perception

The 1980s and 1990s began to reshape the award’s meaning.

The fall of communism lifted barriers that had confined Eastern European players. Hristo Stoichkov, born in Bulgaria under communist rule, could only move abroad once the regime collapsed in 1990. Barcelona swooped, and under Johan Cruyff’s mentorship, himself a three-time Ballon d’Or winner, Stoichkov was told, “We’re going to win that Ballon d’Or together.”

The very idea of striving for the Ballon d’Or, of planning careers around it, was new. Stoichkov’s tears when he finally lifted the trophy in 1994 marked a turning point. For players of his generation, the Ballon d’Or was no longer a side effect; it was the goal itself.

Igor Belanov, the 1986 winner from Dynamo Kyiv, paraded his trophy in front of 100,000 fans and later took it to Ukrainian soldiers decades afterwards to give them moments of joy amid war. George Weah, in 1995, whispered, “I think I’m going to die” when he learned he had won, before realising the enormity of becoming the first non-European to claim the prize.

The rule change that allowed Weah’s triumph, opening eligibility to non-Europeans playing in Europe, globalised the award. Suddenly, the best in the world could all compete for the golden orb. Weah’s words after his victory summed it up: “This Ballon d’Or is for the whole world.”

Zinedine Zidane admitted that when he won in 1998, he allowed himself a rare moment of pride: “With that Ballon d’Or, I was showing off a bit.” Luis Figo’s controversial move from Barcelona to Real Madrid in 2000 was shadowed by the trophy, as both clubs jostled to claim him as “their” Ballon d’Or winner. The prize had become a weapon in football’s cultural battles.

From Modest Trinket to Golden Idol

The physical design of the Ballon d’Or helped cement its prestige. Originally small, it was redesigned in 1983, when Michel Platini won his first, to resemble a real football plated in gold. From then on, it looked like something worth fighting for. “Magnificent and captivating,” Garcia described it.

Belanov spoke of showing his trophy to children, while many winners noted how heavy it was in their hands. The golden sphere became a symbol, its beauty feeding the hunger around it.

By the late 1990s, football was entering its media boom. The Champions League was exploding into a global spectacle. Stars like Ronaldo Nazário, Zidane, and Ronaldinho became household names beyond sport.

The Ballon d’Or thrived as the definitive way to settle endless debates: who was the best?

The Digital Age and the Rise of Obsession

Then came social media. Facebook, Instagram, and particularly Twitter(X) have turned the Ballon d’Or into a year-long debate. Every goal, every assist, every slip became part of the argument. The ceremony in Paris was no longer just for insiders; it was live-streamed, scrutinized, meme-ified.

And into this cauldron stepped Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo.

From 2008 to 2017, they split the prize five times each. Their rivalry became inseparable from the Ballon d’Or itself. Each season was measured not just in goals and trophies but in golden spheres. Fans are divided into camps. Arguments became relentless.

Wesley Sneijder, after leading Inter Milan to a historic treble in 2010, finished only fourth. Franck Ribéry, Bayern Munich’s star in 2013, fumed that his perfect season still left him behind. “This Ballon d’Or will forever remain an injustice,” he later said.

The Messi-Ronaldo duopoly turned the award into a scoreboard for the GOAT debate. Former France Football editor Pascal Ferré even claimed Ronaldo once told him he would not rest until he had more Ballons d’Or than Messi. Ronaldo denied it, but Messi admitted they pushed each other, creating what he called “a golden era.”

Not everyone was pleased. Arsène Wenger argued the obsession with individual awards destroyed careers and encouraged selfishness. Pep Guardiola dismissed the obsession as “ridiculous,” urging players to focus on team success. Yet the tide was irreversible.

Breaking the Cycle

In 2018, Luka Modrić broke the Messi-Ronaldo streak. His triumph, after leading Croatia to a World Cup final and Real Madrid to Champions League glory, felt refreshing. He later admitted he “cried like a child” when he found out.

France Football’s Ferré likened the ceremony to Christmas: “It is the only chance you get in a team sport to celebrate by yourself.” Kylian Mbappé echoed that sentiment, saying the trophy “reawakens childhood dreams.” Players who had grown up watching Messi and Ronaldo lift it every year now openly longed for their turn.

The ceremony itself had by then become a Hollywood-style gala, red carpets and flashing bulbs included. The Ballon d’Or Féminin, launched in 2018, added a new dimension, recognizing the brilliance of players like Ada Hegerberg and Alexia Putellas.

Modern Reality: Fever and Fallout

In today’s game, the obsession sometimes overshadows the football. When Vinícius Júnior scored in the 2024 Champions League final, Rio Ferdinand blurted into the microphone: “Ballon d’Or, Ballon d’Or, Ballon d’Or.” At the Bernabéu, fans chanted the same words louder than they sang club anthems.

When rumours suggested Vinícius would not win that year, despite his brilliance, Real Madrid staged what Garcia called “the most spectacular protest” in the award’s history. The entire club boycotted the ceremony, leaving trophies for best coach and best team uncollected.

Meanwhile, PSG’s Ousmane Dembélé became the 2025 favourite after leading his club to Champions League glory. His name, too, has been chanted to the rhythm of “Ballon d’Or.” Success in Europe remains tied to individual recognition, just as it was in the award’s earliest days.

Even so, the hunger has intensified. Yamal’s words: “I want many,” reflect a generation that cannot imagine a career without Ballon d’Or ambitions. Trent Alexander-Arnold openly admitted he would rather win it than lift the World Cup with England. For today’s players, the Ballon d’Or has become the ultimate currency of greatness.

From Kitchen Tables to Global Stages

The journey of the Ballon d’Or is the journey of football itself. Born from a magazine’s attempt to fill pages, once handed quietly in kitchens and locker rooms, it now dominates global headlines and drives careers.

It has reflected the fall of political barriers, the rise of mass media, the explosion of social networks, and the extraordinary brilliance of players who have carried the sport forward.

What began as “just another trophy” has become the shining symbol of football’s modern age, a golden orb that captures dreams, arguments, and legacies all at once.

What the Ballon d’Or Represents

The Ballon d’Or is more than metal and gold. It is a narrative. Every winner carries a story: hardship, brilliance, triumph. Stanley Matthews was the gentleman of football. Johan Cruyff changed how the world thought about the game. George Weah represented hope for Africa. Messi and Ronaldo became symbols of a generation’s obsession with perfection.

For young players, the Ballon d’Or is the dream beyond dreams. For fans, it is the night when arguments are settled, if only temporarily.

For historians of the game, it is a timeline of legends. The Ballon d’Or mirrors the evolution of football itself: from a European pastime to a global spectacle, from artistry to athleticism, from local heroes to worldwide icons.