We 23, the first team players from Arsenal, River and this Midnight Pilgrim, gathered at the estadio monumental for the all Argentine Semi-Final of this years Copa Sudamericana. There were a few other people there too. After a bore draw at the Viaducto a week earlier, and a weekend of football-less rest (for me and the players both, in preparation for this monster match up {river and arsenal fielded reserve squads this weekend, both of which lost miserably – I sent my gringoclone out to the games and caught up on some sleep and battled a cold}), I arrived at the Estadio Monumental jangily nerved and excited; every player who took the pitch I realize now spent the last week in the same way as me, although much more comfortably and with some working out thrown in there as well.

This game has the great distinction of being my first as a spectator supporting the away team. So profound is my appreciation for the football Arsenal play (during this Sudamericana anyways – in the league they are terrible) that I hopped a train down to Sarandi, about an hour from home and back, to buy my ticket. I am officially a fan of the least supported club in all of Buenos Aires. So when kickoff rolled around I found myself facing the side of the stadium where I usually stand, the side of the stadium where I watched Radamel Falcao Garcia slam home a header in the 94th minute to send River through to the subsequent stages of this tournament, the side of the stadium where I sat during the superclasico, and where I will sit on Saturday to watch Argentina Play Bolivia. This new vantage point gave me some perspective; the general local Sivori tribune is loud, crazy, very red, massive and intimidating. Very impressive. The odds of Arsenal beating River today, as many tried to convince me during the previous week (a balding man with a bum knee bet me a sushi dinner), were as dismal as those for Hercules being voted “Greatest Disney Movie of All Time” by the New York Time film critics. Anyway, those of us decked in celestial blue, red, and maroon knew that this Arsenal team travels well, all prior victories in the tournament coming away form home. More Background: it was cold, Frigidaire, slightly breezy, and the pitch (unlike those of us rested over the weekend) was half trampled to dirt during some sort of concert earlier in the week. The referees wore neon orange (neon is becoming a trend in football apparel I’m not quite comfortable with) long sleeve tops and black shorts.

Arsenal started the game attacking with bite and desire pushing for a crucial away goal, which would’ve forced River to play for a win and not a draw. A long range effort struck the woodwork within the first ten minutes, rattling the bar in declaration of intentions for an all out attack. River were trying to play their chippy little passing game, feeding through Ortega and Bellushi, with Bounanotte playing off them up front, but the hard men of Arsenals midfield weren’t having it and shut down most lanes and muscled those with more nimble footed ideas right off the ball.

This is the beast tactic for dealing with River. As their pristine white jerseys and the nickname Millionarios clearly point out, they are a bunch of ninnies, eager to touch the ball as if it were made of glass and gold, shrinking away from most contact, and generally pussing about. How do you deal with a ninny, especially one who is clearly more talented than you? Kick them in the leg a couple times, assert your self, hold possession of the ball, and kick them in the leg some more.

It worked, as the half came to a close, Bellushi and Buonanotte both had limps or discomforts, and master Burro himself sat on the bench, his dainty ankles could take no more. River without Ortega is hardly River, and it shone through as the game wore on, attacking chances falling to players who didn’t have the right amount of space, or the correct touch to make a difference. Unfortunately for the overall style of the game Ortega was injured. Fortunately, for Arsenal, the borracho Burrito sat on the bench and watched as his dream of a place in the final slipped away.

The second half started with River baiting Arsenal, and then throwing everything into the counter, which Arsenal was happy with because they created some chances and asserted their defensive dominance. As the minutes passed River poured forward, holding the ball for minutes on end in Arsenal’s half of the pitch, but they couldn’t break through, and every time they managed a shot on goal, Cuenca steered the round ball away from the back of the net. Nerve-wracking stuff, but every shot wide or saved, steeled the resolve on the team and us supporters. Nothing was going to stop Arsenal from reaching this final.

Things finally broke open when a red card was awarded to River, but aside from the introduction of some speedy subs and another attacking man for River, the end of the half dragged out and penalties loomed.

Staring into the gut of the packed River end of the stadium, the giant killers from Arsenal, and magic man Cuenca, killed off los millionarios in a penalty shoot out. After the initial jolt of excitement, and crotch grabbing taunts, the supporters of Arsenal observed a tremendous minute of silence for River, recently deceased! How respectful.

-more to come.

I showed up 5 minutes late for kick off, train problems again, and made my way to the Platea Sur section of the stadium, on my way deciding not to stay in one seat and to float around shooting film. It seemed to me that Argentinos were putting the knife to Velez when I started paying attention, their higher position in the table reflected during the run of play. After creating a few chances in the first minutes, it seemed to me they would likely win. But Velez were no slouches either, to which their ten league crowns and one world championship will testify. But Lavolpe and the squad this year are terribly under performing, and one yellow panted man I sat next to for a while purchased a ticket to the game for the sole purpose of yelling at Lavolpe the whole time. His spittle burnt my flesh and smelled like the bile and acid of a supporter let down by a terrible sporting year. Needless to say I moved on quickly.

I wasn’t paying too much attention to the game and Velez scored all three goals while I was looking elsewhere. Argentinos were embarrassed by the up and down Velez, playing on a Monday night their schedules must’ve been out of whack. Either that or their uppers man got the delivery day wrong. Congratulations to Velez. Argentinos played them selves out of contention for the Apertura crown and as each match passes it more and more teams look less likely to challenge Boca, Lanus and Independiente.

Favorite moments of the evening, minus burning bile spit: Argentinos fans chanted something to the melody of Karma Chameleon (the “Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon you come and go (or whatever that line is)” part). As I was filming a policeman pulled me aside and asked for my press documents, to which I said I had none, then he looked confused for a second and after me asking him a few questions he basically told me that he didn’t want me to take pictures of the Barra Brava because they don’t like to be photographed. I am still trying to figure out if this was a word of advice for me, or if he was working for the Barra making sure they weren’t photographed.

(no pictures of this game on the digital camera,6 minutes worth of super-8 instead)

-more to come.

The first 15 minutes of this match should’ve seen Lanus build a comfortable lead. Wave after wave of attacking moves and neverending minutes of possession on the Tigre half resulted in so many corner kicks and throw ins I really don’t remember the tally. The midfield of Lanus are a very tight group, playing one touch football more than any other team I have seen thus far. They seem to know exactly where their teammates will be with out looking. Whenever a winger received field switching cross he would one touch it to a teammate making a supporting run into a more central location, who would then take one or two touches before connecting the play to the front line. Lanus attack with more flair, and with as much speed as any of the other teams in the Apertura, if not more.

The first goal came through a penalty, well struck by Pepe Sand, the target man for Lanus and second leading goalscorer in the tournament. Tigre leveled a bit later, and the game headed into half time tied @ 1.

The stadium in Lanus holds about 40 thousand people, and it was stuffed to the gills for this match between the first and third place squads. The curves of the stadium, and the proximity of the stands to the field make this one of the best of the middle capacity stadiums I have seen so far in Argentina. Really magnificent, maybe something the MLS should try to emulate. I also love standing in the tribunes for matches, as opposed to the all seater stadiums in the United States. Sure they are a little more prone to accidents, but by no means more dangerous than getting loaded on beer (which they don’t sell in Argentine football stadiums) and driving home to the suburbs after the ballgame.

The second half started a little sluggishly, and it looked as if the game would end in a draw. But after a warning shot from Tigre, Lanus woke up, and resumed playing their attractive and speedy football, which resulted in a goal on the hour mark from Fritzler. They probably could’ve scored more, the insertion of speedy forward Acosta adding a new element to the line of attack, but the game ended 2-1 and Lanus returned to the Top of the league table.

Lanus has a number of good young players and a soild team overall, I think they can go on to win it all this season. The matchup against Boca will be the key test for this squad, putting the best season in recent club history to the test.

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Well my dream results for this weekend didn’t quite pan out, and all but one of the Clasicos ended in draw on Sunday. River, Independiente, Tigre and San Lorenzo all dealing their title aspirations probably insurmountable blows, while Boca and Lanus solidified their positions on top of the table, setting up the penultimate match of the season as what will likely determine the winner of the Apertura 2007 edition. It is still too early to count out Independiente, Tigre, Banfield, all of whom have relatively easy schedules left, save a tricky tie here and there. Argentinos could leapfrog five teams and rest tied in third, if they beat Velez tonight. So, while the race isn’t as tight as it could’ve been, the knot at the top of the table is by no stretch of the imagination loosening.

-more to come

p.s. I hate the sound of whispered spanish.

La Academe were ready to rock well before kickoff. Today marked the 40th anniversary of Racing Club de Avellaneda’s victory in the Club World Cup, and all the fans gathered to show their support for that historic team, some of who were in attendance. Alfio Basilie was noticeably absent, probably hanging out with Riquelme, drinking fernet and coke, talking about future plans.

La Doce and Racing’s supporters showed up for a party, and the first clasico of the weekend kicked off within a great atmosphere. The first fifteen minutes were pretty cagey, both sides building up strong attacking moves, with nothing however coming to fruition. The wind in the stadium favored Boca’s strengths, and worked against Racing’s long ball and wing based attack style. Although the first half ended scoreless, it was clear that Boca’s midfield strength wouldn’t be kept at bay for long. Shortly after the start of the second half, midfield strength won out. Neri Cardozo Blasted a 30 yarder into the upper left corner of the goal. Racing crumbled. What seemed like a few minutes later, Palacio netted after some build up and a few defensive errors. Racing died. Towards the final minutes Boca were awarded a penalty, which Martin Palermo converted easily. 3-0 and the table gets tighter at the top.

If River and San Lorenzo win, Lanus and Tigre tie tomorrow and Argentinos Juniors win on Monday table will read like this:

Lanus 28
Boca 27
Tigre & Argentinos 26
Independiente & River & Banfield 25
San Lorenzo 24

With 4 weeks left and 8 teams, possibly, within 4 points of each other, the Apertura is without a doubt the most interesting competition in the world at the moment. This coupled with Sudamericana matches and the National team playing in a couple weeks, November is going to be an intense month of football.

-more to come

This time I was treated to a little reserve squad football before the big boys took to the pitch later in the evening. The difference in play between first team regulars and less talented professional players, especially in mid-table teams, must be huge. Granted, neither Arsenal nor Rosario central are the most talented sides, but the reserves were awful. The ball sounds a lot different when struck by a bad reserve player. I believe a Bellarmine Varsity squad could have beaten either of these reserve squads.

When the referee blew his whistle for kickoff I was surprised, because maybe 1,000 Arsenal supporters were in attendance. The main band of supporters showed up ten minutes into the match, the must’ve been in a fight, a fracas, or maybe the cerveza and choripan kept them from the main entrance.

Neither team could get much going throughout the match, but it was such a nice day in Sarandi the supporters (and the players) didn’t seem to care much. A lot of fruitless kicking and dribbling. The Arsenal heroes from Sudamericana competition played like a bottom of the league club, and Rosario weren’t much better. The first half ended scoreless.

The second half looked to be a similar affair but towards the end Arsenal managed a goal through some wing play and a ball across the box. The victory was a lucky result for the home side, and added further fire to the forward looking chants echoing forth from the tribunes, Thursday’s semi-final against River on everyone’s mind.

I am very excited for Thursday’s match, and will be buying tickets Tuesday morning with the rest of the crazies. 14 pesos for a chance to see some of the best players in Argentina challenge for headers and keepers punting goal kicks within spitting distance! Greatest Nation to be a Football Spectator: ARGENTINA.

-more to come

Boring, lazy play from River. I think the key to stopping Ariel Ortega is to make sure the referee orders him to wear shin guards. At the beginning of each half Defensor players talked to the referee and Ortega was sent to the sidelines to retrieve and put on his shin guards, visibly upset. Afterwards, most of his passes were off by a foot or two, and he didn’t seem to be as sprightly on the ball. Wonder is Arsenal de Sarandi will take this strategy into account?

-more to come.

Under the watchful eye of D10S, the couples vowed to love each other forever and to honor Maradona and his teachings. After each couple slipped rings over fingers and kissed they exited the make shift staging area/altar and fielded questions from the massive press contingency. This being an off week for national football due to the elections, every major Argentina football telecast and most newspapers were in attendance, as well as two reporters from the Danish newspaper Politiken, in whose building the HWC staged press conferences. The Danes were in Argentina writing a piece about Danish citizens living in Southern Argentina and covering the elections. All in all the number of journalists and T.V. personalities matched the number of church members.

Following the Marriage ceremony, some entertainment provided by a aging songstress, Maradona related tattoo presentations, eating and drinking, a countdown to Midnight and the year 47 A(fter).D(iego).  began with some enthusiasm. Shortly after the beginning of the New Year, the high priest sat behind a computer and played a message from Diego himself, thanking the church for celebrating his birthday and wishing them the best of luck with everything. From what I could gather, the myths of Maradona, his genius on the football pitch, the ways in which he brought glory to an Argentina in turmoil, and his imperfect humanity form the foundation for the Iglesia Maradoniana. For the celebrants of the church important lessons can be drawn from the life of this man, no doubt offering also a bit of tongue in cheek revelry underneath the appearance of complete sincerity.

This event will undoubtedly provide material for further writing and thought, but at the moment I will leave it at this.

-more to come

Notes from a mediocre match:

40 year old woman decked out in Independiente Red loses her shit when #19 German Denis gets his first touch. El Tanque has a hold on the ladies. Goalkeepers and defenders must also be smitten with his thickness and good hair, 16! gols so far this tournament.

Jumping, singing, bemoaning a defeat and celebrating a goal combine to jostle digesting choripan and orange soda resulting in G-A-S. Train ride home, uncomfortable.

A referee will: give penalty kicks for no reason, make up for their mistakes by issuing lots of yellow cards in the hope that someone will receive a red card and cancel out his reactionary penalty, breath a sigh of relief when the home team, playing with a man advantage, levels the score, be tongue lashed by his linesmen during halftime for poor on-the-job performance, start the second half by allowing fouls that warranted yellow cards in the first half to go unpunished, lose control of the players, issue a red card so he has to keep an eye on less players for the final half hour of the match (tired eyeballs), shake in fear when the visitors take advantage of the restored numerical parity to regain the lead because he knows when the league leading home team loses and he has made one too many mistakes the board of referees will not allow him to blow his whistle in important stadia next season.

Standing in silence and watching people rush a fence and shout GOL really really loudly is amazing. And the reason why the stadium has a moat.

Flares, ripped newspapers, streamers and flags-a-waving all in unison will always be impressive and fun.

Pretty boys don’t like to see red.

Long ball tactics don’t work when no one fills the space between the back line and the attacking line.

The European pay checks that draw top Argentine talent leaves a very level playing field in the Primera, this tournament will likely be decided on the last day of matches.

Man with a tattoo of a football stadium on his lower back and an inscription about how the field and the game is his love and his life. A much different feel than the bland team crests or team mascot tattoos that are on every shoulder or back. Someone also had a giant muppet-pirate tattoo on his shoulder.

-i like the font. Independiente also has a devil/kid mascot that looks like bat boy. it is awesome.

-more to come.

There is an element of grace that separates the great football players from the rest of the riff-raff, that extra pass, the control on the ball no matter how rifled the pass, an ability to move hips and feet and head in opposite directions all at the same time while moving toward the goal.The entire Argentine squad, with the exceptions of Maxi Rodriguez and Esteban Cambiasso who fill utility roles with a rote, effective, workmen-like quality that its hard to hold against them completely unsparkling play. Something like a combination of jealousy and joy (giddiness?) jolted through me every time Riquelme, Messi, Heinze, Mascherano (who i am starting to appreciate), or Gago touched the ball. Riquelme and Messi in particular made me want to cry numerous times, there are no words. Just simply out of this world talented. The number of superb things both did with the ball at their feet absolutely stunned me. i will never forget seeing them play in person, every touch drew applause from the 65,000 people in the stands, and erased the memory of whatever leg and lower back pain those of us who waited 5+ hours for tickets in the fenced off/barbed wire section of the stadium.

-Riquelme lining up goal #1.

Just for the record, i don’t think Carlos Tevez is a good player. He did very little in the match, and his straightforward, defensive line tip-toeing, and trying to out-muscle or outrun the opponent will never work in this Argentine squad. As a counter point to Messi he isn’t sharp enough, and as a solo striker, he is ineffective. It will be interesting to see what happens if a string of these sort of performances for Argentina take a toll on his popularity, which is sky high here for some reason.

As usual, someone else can better translate my feelings during this match. This time António Variações is the man: i felt like this song the whole game, infer to your heart’s content.

António Variações – Que Pena Seres Vigarista

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More later.