Since I don’t have television I watch in a nearby bar the Argentina’s first half against Saudi Arabia. I regret it quickly, the place is full of young mothers between 25 and 35 years old, who have just taken their children to school, except for a couple who brought them to watch the game, because their schools they start later in the game.
They sit next to me, and they set up a large table, they are wearing the Argentine shirt and with garlands in their hair, some with the patriotic colors on their faces. They talk to each other loudly, sing or rather hum the hymn.
Apparently they don’t know the Argentine players, except of course Messi, De Paul, and Dibu, because of their high profile. See the game like that a new experience. Among his talks about various topics and alternatives, Messi’s penalty and the three disallowed goals, time goes by fast. The sharp comments of someone on TV, which I do not identify, ambiguously, as usual, promise.
Glory and Devoted at the same time, and they seem pretty bad-intentioned to me. The coffee with milk and three croissants cost me 860 pesos. An eagerness. I pay and leave before the second half, because I have things to do.
I regret having gone Next time I’ll listen to it on the radio. Although later, and with the result set, I think cabulently, and betraying my supposed football black palate. “With those moms and those boys who yelled and the expensive coffee we were winning.” And if it were so?
* Former National Sports Director.
