Ramblings on Argieball and other nonsense
Monthly Archives: June 2010
“The night the stadium was to open, pibe, my heart was bouncing, throbbing like a belching fighting frog in mating season. We dined on pizza and champagne and marched off like so many soldiers of destiny to the inaugural concert. Although the Frog Kickers’ rather scandalous performance angered some, everyone agreed it was a great first night at the Menemental. It was with great regret that we left the beautiful stadium at the end of the night, festooned as it was with our dreams.
“Over the next few days, che, the Garlic Sea was awash with the sound of happy croaking as we collected our rents with a smile from the wretched porteños seeking solace from their metropolitan mindfuck. We joyously advised them to leave the rat race and come down to the seaside to regain some of the dignity they had forsaken with every beep of the car horn over the years. Plus, they could leave behind those rotten sporting institutions they’d poured so much of their lives into in the capital and start afresh with a new franchise, a new team in a new home.
“Of course everyone was eager to know what and when the next function would be at the Menemental. Days passed as we bought each other mobile phones, argued about the taxes on properties and began to lobby for better roads so we could drive our new cars around to places that used to look down on us. Aye, pibe, we shut a fair mouth or two then! We invested heavily in art to show how off our sophistication, and dignitaries visited from overseas to gather information for speeches on how Mar de Ajó was the way forward, a blueprint for all struggling communities worldwide. Our smiles were kaleidoscopic flashes of chameleonic brilliance. Indeed, such was our radiance it seemed that we were all bipedal Cuban Tree Frog – not for being an invasive species and a nuisance to humans, but rather because our skins revealed how hot we felt. Continue reading
Pegamequemegusta hears your scoffs, oh dear handsome readers. After all, is that all you’ve got? Jaysus, a back line where Inter cast-off Burdisso is supposed to be the stand-out man among a panicky gaggle of stooges? Where Javier ‘booking’ Mascherano is supposed to anchor an oil tanker that looks like it’s been spilt down the middle by an iceberg? Where you’re counting on a guy who couldn’t even get first team football with Atlético Madrid to inspire fear in a Mexican team with a thirst for vengeance not seen since Yahweh stomped out a short-lived fondness for Ba’al? Where one of your supposed game-breakers, Di María, is flopping so hard he looks like a sated sea-lion, and the other couldn’t buy a goal even if he did underwear ads until well into his eighties? And where your main striker needs to be one-yard out against a one-eyed keeper in order to have a chance of scoring? Continue reading
They say that one day in the Estadio da Luz, Saramago, who was an atheist, was surprised to see so many people blessing themselves or looking imploringly at the heavens. “I, too, wait for a sign from God everyday. It’s a shame i’ve never found one.”
Mexico, Argentina’s next opponent in the World Cup, also mourned one of its best writers during this World Cup, Carlos Monsiváis. Once Monsiváis was asked, his compatriot Juan Villoro relates, about the ‘atavistic incapability’ of Mexican football to ‘solve the matter of the maximum penalty’, which could well be a possibility this Sunday in Soccer City. Monsiváis, who believed he was being asked about troubles in the country’s prisons, answered: “There’s too much overcrowding and that provokes riots.”
Monsiváis hated football, just like Borges, who gave a lecture in the Teatro San Martín right as the World Cup was getting under way in 1978. “Juan Villoro said that God is round. In that case,” Monsiváis once said, “you can consider me an atheist.” Villoro, in fact, wrote an excellent book with the title God is Round. Continue reading