Today we bring you a translation of a piece by Ignacio Fusco, of Olé and Don Julio. Pegamequemegusta has translated several interviews of his – with Pipo gorosito, Carles Rexach and Di Stéfano – as he can be quite combative and frequently gets the best out of his subjects. This is not an interview, however, rather Sabella’s interior monologue during the final few minutes of Argentina-Switzerland.
We enjoyed it and agree with it for the most part. Indeed, reports from Argentina’s closed training session today concur with several of the ideas attributed to Sabella here regarding team changes, with Demichelis set to come in for Fede Fernández, besides Basanta for the suspended Rojo. (No indication Palacio will start…). Tomorrow will be a slog, though, so best to kick back with a slick, smart piece of writing in the meantime. We hope to have done it justice. (Spanish readers can find the original here).
Monologue of a despairing manager
Palacio on the left, Basanta behind him, Biglia in next to Mascherano, stick to Mascherano, Lucas! There! Stay there, right? Good. Di María over there, getting back and covering Zabaleta, that’s it, we’re there, we’re almost there, how much is left? Two? How much? One? Come on, vamos, in the bag! In the air they’re not getting a thing, sorted, relax, relax, it’s sorted. I told Palacio: you’re a midfielder who gets forward, not a forward who defends, the world is how you see it, put ’em under pressure ’cause they’ll make a mistake. We need space to play, them on the back foot, attack, attack, attack, head down, dribbling past, these kids are unbelievable, I can’t believe this, four of them go forward and the other two just sit there, they don’t talk to each other, kids, they’re kids, like a bunch of school kids. The ones up front don’t want to get back, no-one is getting back, check out the goal if you don’t believe me: Palacio won the ball, he gave it to Messi, Messi to Di María, goal. We waited and went for them, goal, Now we’re good, sorted, two wingers, four in the middle, they haven’t come near us for about half an hour, stay close to Mascherano, Lucas, please! Close, close, there! How much is left? Three! What do you mean three?! Where the hell’d he get three minutes from? Whistle, ref, it’s over! Corner. Corner. He gave them a corner. A corner, la puta que lo parió. Two years ago we played these lads and we beat them without breaking a sweat: Campagnaro, Fernández and Garay at the back: physical presence, height; Mascherano and el Chapu in the middle: garra, cover, a mean shift; Maxi and Sosa out wide: balance, collaboration; Messi and Agüero up front. Three-one we won. Three goals by Leo, all with space to play in, on the counter. They say he picks my team and today he’s barely had a shot. With me, you get predictable football; football can be predictable. The goalkeeper is going up. Their goalkeeper is going up for a header. I can’t believe this. Garay! The keeper’s going up, Garay! The one is illuminous yellow, you muppet, who do you think! Where’s Campagnaro? What the hell are you doing here, Campagnaro? This is the last move, it has to be, we’ll get Belgium and I’ll organise this lot, once and for all. In the first half they had a chance on the counter because Mascherano got distracted on a corner giving out to the others for taking their sweet time in getting back, the second time… Football gives you time to… Nerves are for the other team to worry about. Rojo is injured, I put Basanta on at left-back, all we need now is for Lavezzi and Higuaín to pick up knocks. Who’s taking it? Rodríguez? Rodríguez takes their corners? Made you made a note of that? How does he take them? Uruguayan. His parents are from Uruguay. Mark the keeper! This goes in and we lose on penos and he had two years and he couldn’t find his starting eleven, they’ll say, Messi was picking the team, he tried five at the back but he didn’t have the clout to stick with it, he brought Agüero and Higuaín even though they were crocked and brought no back-up number 9, why they’ll ask me. A bicycle kick by the keeper: holy shitballs. The rebound, the rebound! We’re Argentina, we don’t have to worry about the opposing team: pull the other one. Get out, Romero! Post. It hit the post. How much left? It hit the post. Dzemaili. Dzemaili was it? I told them, I told them, Dzemaili goes out wide, he finds space, he gets round the back. Who was marking him?! Campagnaro, what are you doing on the bench? These kids will be the death of me. The best world cup ever. The best world cup ever, Jaysus, Mary and Joseph. It’s over! It’s over! Now I’m going to tell the press about Palacio. What a fourth man in the middle can do. Get your rival on the back foot. Hang back. In the second half we played better, we were balanced. I’ll tell them that, too: balance, we were balanced. After everything we went through here, they’ll let me change things. El pueblo has to learn. Foresight, foresight. Even better if we get Belgium, they like to play it around more. One more match and I’m in the record books. Twenty days ago I was fifty-nine years old. Today I turned eighty-three.