Argentina 4 Spain 1
I’ve said it all along to anyone who would listen – which pretty much reduces it to my cat and the elderly neighbour who walks around the block all day mumbling to himself – that Argentina have the best collection of players in the world and could and should have been champions in both 2006 and 2010.
As we all know, a collection of players does not make a team. But here, against the world champions in the Monumental stadium in Buenos Aires, we saw something of what could have been and what might be under Sergio Batista.
All Politely Seated...
This was a joy to watch in the early Spring sunshine with an array of players before us to make the mouth water as much, if not more, than the succulent Choripan that I’d eaten before the game.
Imagine putting the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, a spattering of Rembrandts, a few Van Goghs and the best that the National Gallery can spare from its really expensive room on display at the same venue at the same time.
As well as the artistic talent on show, the combined value of the Spanish and Argentinian benches, never mind the starting 22, probably amounted to the GDP of a medium-sized European country.
Argentina, with a point or two to prove, were sublime from the starting whistle, passing the ball around to the sound of the crowd’s mocking ‘Oles.’ Spain, with little to prove since they’re world champions, didn’t really show up…at least not for the first half.
I’m talking figuratively here. But from where I was sitting way up in the clouds and almost touching distance from the planes that use this as the flight path as they come in to land at the city airport, it is possible that those specks in red shirts down below were not David Villa, Cesc Fabregas and Andres Iniesta. It could be, and I’m being unnecessarily kind to Scotland here, that there was mix-up as they changed planes in Belgium or somewhere, with the Lichtenstein team on their way to Glasgow for their Europe 2012 qualifier.
And Lichtenstein, having arrived in Buenos Aires along with Spain’s red shirts, thought: “Well lads, we might as well.” While the Spaniards, one nil up against Scotland suddenly realised: “Hey, we’re supposed to be Lichtenstein.” And let in a couple of late goals.
Argentina were two up in fourteen minutes with goals from Messi and Higuain. Carlos Tevez took advantage of a comical slip by the Spanish keeper, Jose Reina, to add a third before half-time. This was dream football, only something was not quite right.
Collection of Artists
“Oi! Sit down. I can’t see.” What? We were in the stands, standing room only, in a country where football is watched for the most part with your knees straight, the soles of your shoes firmly resting on concrete and the earlobe of the bloke in front obstructing your view of the corner flag.
This was not opera in the Teatro Colon. But the insistence on being seated, the level of noise, the polite ripples of applause that barely disturbed the balmy evening air brought to my mind a summer evening in a small English village watching cricket. “Excuse me Mrs Pilkington. Would you kindly pass the cucumber sandwiches.”
This crowd was made up of people who don’t normally frequent the club grounds at the weekend. Here were men with their jumpers carefully slung over their shoulders like they were going punting in Cambridge. They didn’t know the words to the songs. There were times when the loudest voice was that of the ice-cream seller eight blocks and fifteen rows away. “Helados. Helados. Get your strawberry helados” are hardly the kind of lyrics to stir your team into action.
Presumably Del Bosque gave the Spaniards a good talking to at half-time because they came out with a little more purpose. But still, that patient build-up for which they were praised during the World Cup, here was often languid. Argentina showed more grit and all their players did what we know they can do, especially Lionel Messi.
Time for Fireworks
He produced a few moments of pure magic played as though he were genuinely on speaking terms with the rest of the team. Ever Banega showed his class, Javier Zanetti, making his three-thousandth appearance for his country aged 94, played as he always does, with composure and never at any moment at any risk of putting a single hair on his immaculate head out of place. And Sergio Romero, to my mind a goalkeeping fashion icon, was both authoritative and agile.
And when you have the luxury of being able to bring on as second half substitutes the likes of Sergio Aguero, who scored Argentina’s fourth, Angel Di Maria and Andres D’Alessandro then all you can really do is sit back and purr.
OK, OK. I know that this was only a friendly and we shouldn’t read too much into it. But Argentina is a country where the phrase ‘unfulfilled potential’ is unfortunately applied far too often in many areas of life.
So at least in the sporting world, on the same day that Argentina beat Brazil in the basketball World Cup in Turkey and shortly after the women’s team had beaten England in the hockey World Cup in Rosario, the post-match firework display was a fitting celebration.
Tags: Andres D’Alessandro, argentina v spain, del bosque, gonzalo higuain, jose reina, lichtenstein, lionel messi, mona lisa, rembrandt, scotland, sergio batista, sergio romero, van gogh
