If we talk about important rivalries that bring together large masses of fans, it is true that we can refer to classics such as River and Boca in our country, to a Real Madrid-Barcelona in Spain, or to an Inter-Milan in the Italian peninsula, to name a few cases.
But if we refer to those domestic and popular Argentine classics that are lived with great passion, and at the same time are a feast for the palate, we are talking about the sweetest and richest derby: the Superclassic of the Creole cake, the one that can lead to the most heated discussions at a family reunion or gathering of friends, or a celebration among co-workers: the sweet quince team vs. the sweet potato team.
Why did that classic gluttonous rivalry never take the form of a soccer match? I asked myself. And I answered myself: this national month we will make it a reality. I brought together six friends, two cousins, four Facebook contacts, three colleagues from work and the doorman of my building, and in the neighborhood sports center we set up the challenge.
The party promised more than a candidate for president in the electoral campaign. The clearest arrival of Team Quince was in the locker room. They had gone out onto the field wanting to eat their rivals raw, but until the first half hour, they ended up on a diet.
My cousin Mariano, a winger who at some point was characterized by displaying a great round trip, played tired and decided to suspend the round. That’s why maybe Team Batata played more comfortably than Chano in Ital Park riding one of the bumper cars. At 15 minutes, striker Gogo Morete (Team Batata), was left more alone than Grabois in Milei’s act and scored first.
The “quince” goalkeeper seemed to come from Deportivo Halloween, because it was terrifying. He had fewer starts than Robledo Puch and less reflections than styrofoam mirror. He ate three more goals, and that made his team more bewildered than being vegan at a family barbecue. Evaristo, striker for Team Membrillo, tried to do magic in the rival area but with less funny than the Toothless Wizard and started the unprecedented hobby of missing goals.
The match ended 4-1 with the victory of Deportivo Batata. Those who played for Quince are clearly a team of the future. Not with future. Of the future, because in the present they don’t beat anyone. His players gave everything, especially pity. More than “champagne football”, they played “flavored water football”, but with water from Montevideo.