Ramblings on Argieball and other nonsense
Tag Archives: Verón
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
Olé: You speak about the players’ potential. And people say Argentina is a great team thanks to them alone. Does that make you feel proud or under-appreciated?
M: Proud. I’d love to be the last person to kiss the Cup as the players would have won it. Let’s get that clear. I just want to be one more happy, jersey-wearing Argentinian.
Olé: In any case, can you perceive a respect for Maradona the manager that wasn’t there before?
M: I never believed what some people were saying about me. I knew what I was capable of, what I could do. And since I didn’t believe them in the first place, it’s not such a massive leap now from what they were saying about me during the qualifiers. I’ve always been the same and I knew this moment was going to arrive [yawn], that I was going to have the Mascherano I have now and not the Mascherano who had half his head in Madrid and half in Barcelona. I knew I was going to have this Messi, this Tevez…
Olé: Are you enjoying the World Cup as much as you imagined you would?
M: No, I knew it was going to be like this. For a while now i’ve been saying it to anyone who wanted to listen. We had a ten day training camp to work out certain matters, to figure out what the team would be. If that work hadn’t manifested itself on the pitch afterwards, we wouldn’t have had much to say for ourselves, but thankfully we had plenty of chances in the three games we’ve played so far. So we’re fully justified in enjoying the moment right now and can look forward with great optimism. Continue reading
You see, it turns out Diego Maradona, the world’s best ever football player, knows a thing or two about football. And it also turns out that Diego Maradona, a big game player if ever there was one, and Argentina’s cheerleader in chief over the last few years, knows a thing or two about getting his players in the right frame of mind for important games. The garrulous rogue from the Buenos Aires slums has channelled all the nervous energy that saw him fritter away his extensive gifts into a lightening rod to draw attention away from his players. Somehow or other, the erstwhile looneytune, whose Wile E. Coyote-like dedication to pressing the self-destruct button was matched only by his childlike lust for saying the wrong thing, has has left behind the brood of vipers that stalked him in the desert and stumbled upon an oasis of lucidity [in an arbour of mixed metaphors – ed].
Yes, oh my dear handsome readers, pegamequemegusta is insufferably optimistic. This is the kind of positivity ions dream about. You won’t see a more reckless trade in rose-tinted glasses this side of Mardi Gras. We make Mormons look like Frenchmen. An ounce of our exuberance would keep a Colombian cartel in mink winklepickers for a decade. Continue reading