Let me tell you about my day so far.
First, I got up at 5.30 am because I wanted to leave enough time to get to the park before the game started. I took my sketching chair with me, so I needed a bit of space to open it up. I didn’t mind the early rise too much — as soon as my feet are on the floor it doesn’t matter what time it is, so I just showered and dressed as usual.
The park is in the barrio of Palermo, which means I am immediately at a disadvantage because I always seem to get lost there. There is a bus I could take, but Gillian had warned me to make sure I get the right one because apparently there are two 130s that go different ways — very Buenos Aires. So I decided to take a taxi, not thinking in advance that at 6.15 am there might not be many taxis! After standing for a good five minutes and not seeing any, I started walking towards the bus stop — and no taxis passed me. Fortunately, the bus arrived immediately. Unfortunately — you guessed it — it was the other one. I asked the driver to let me know when we got to Sarmiento, and he told me I would have to get off just before Sarmiento, and I did.
Sarmiento and Libertador is a wide open, green area made up of lovely parklands — and wide roads with fast traffic. Damned if I could figure out where I was, so I asked a young guy where the giant screen was and he pointed me in the right direction. It wasn’t too far to walk.
The atmosphere at the park was lovely. Trees and lamp posts were festooned with sky blue and white, what we call albiceleste, which is also the nickname for the team. People were selling flags and shirts and (unfortunately) those horrible noise makers. The tournament here is just called the Mundial, and the City has designated the park Emocion Mundial for the duration of the tournament. There were quite a lot of people there, but probably not as many as there will be at later games, and the fact that it was 7 am didn’t help as Argentines tend to stay out very late at night. So it was easy to find a spot in front of a lamp post. I opened up my chair and sat down, but it was soon apparent that if I sat in it I wouldn’t be able to see! So I stood leaning against the lamp post for the whole game and sat down for a rest at half time.
I hooked up by iPhone with my nephew Ally in Scotland — a little tradition we have for big international sporting events that involve countries we are interested in. As Scotland is not in the tournament — again! — it is Argentina and Portugal for us, although Ally may have an interest in other countries too. Little did we know the nature of the messages we would be exchanging.
The first half started, and Lio Messi scored a penalty within ten minutes. A few minutes later we scored again, but it was later ruled offside. Argentina put the ball in the net four times — and three were ruled offside! So although we dominated the game in the first half, we only had one goal to show for it at half time. I hadn’t realized what a disadvantage it would be not having a commentary in English — just rapid Spanish punctuated by sudden yells and screams. So I didn’t know they had disallowed three goals until half time came around and I saw the scoreboard!
This situation must have given the Saudis a psychological charge because they came out at full throttle for the second half, and it wasn’t long before they scored a goal. That was bad enough, but when they scored the second one the air went out of the balloon for us. Nothing went right — it was as if the football gods were with the Saudis.
And that’s how it ended. Ally said to me at the beginning that he thought it would be a nightmare for the Saudis, as they are arguably the worst team in the tournament, but it was Argentina — arguably the best team — that suffered the nightmare. They have dug themselves a big hole with this result, as they now have to beat Mexico and Poland. Draws won’t be enough. So it was a dejected crowd that made its way to the gates.
Where the heck am I and how do I get home?
I hadn’t a clue where I was! No taxis were in sight, so I had to figure out where to get a bus, and I had no idea. I couldn’t tell which avenue was Libertador and which was Sarmiento. I crossed the street to a bus stop, but those buses were going in the wrong direction. I asked a fellow at the bus stop and it turned out I was on Sarmiento instead of Libertador, where I could have taken the 130. He said if I walked a couple of blocks I would come to Plaza Italia, and I knew I could get a bus home from there so I kept walking. It was more than a couple of blocks, and more than my poor knees are used to walking, so as soon as I got home I lay down on the bed and immediately fell asleep! I slept for two hours, so I guess that made up for the very early rise, as well as the emotional upheaval of the loss.
I’ve often asked myself at big sporting events in the past why this matters so much. It is, after all, just a game. But somehow it just does, and a loss like this does hurt. But it’s not over yet and I’m sure we can come back. One good thing is that Saturday’s game against Mexico is at 4 pm, so I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night!
Here are some shots I took before the game. And now I’m going to take some paracetemol and see if I can get my legs to work again — no tango tonight!
We wont talk about how Canada has fared!