Argentinos Juniors  1 Arsenal  1

No, obviously not THAT Arsenal. This is the Argentine Arsenal from the Buenos Aires suburb of Sarandi. They play in blue and red, are not managed by a Frenchman, have passionate support and have achieved very little since their foundation in 1957. There’s not even any evidence that their foundation was inspired by the London Arsenal.

But for the purposes of this article, I like to think that it was. And even if it wasn’t, there’s plenty of evidence of the British influence on the foundation and establishment of football in Argentina. So, how do they thank us for it? With the Hand of God! That’s how!

That evidence is first of all in the English words in the club names – Boca Juniors, River Plate, Newell’s Old Boys and my own personal favourite, Chaco For Ever, from the northern city of Resistencia and currently top of the regional third division.

Then across the river in Uruguay you’ve got Liverpool and in Bolivia another corker, The Strongest. Bolivia also boasts Blooming but I’m not sure whether that derives from ‘Blooming Marvellous’ or ‘Blooming Crap.’

The man credited with introducing the Argentines to football was a Glasgow-born schoolteacher, Alexander Watson Hutton, who arrived in 1882 and set up the Buenos Aires English High School. It was and still is part of a network of schools modelled on the British public school system with all the elitism, snobbery and croquet and cucumber sandwiches on the lawn that comes with it.

The school was represented by the Alumni Football Team and would play the likes of  Rosario Cricket Club and the Buenos Aires Football Club, founded by Yorkshireman, Don Thomas Hogg in 1867.

Other clubs sprouted up like a rash of handballs in the French team, but it was still very much a ‘gentleman’s’ sport and awfully British.

Many years ago I worked on the English-language newspaper, The Buenos Aires Herald. Asked to call the estate of an Anglo-Argentine family to get the bridge results, or something, a woman answered the phone in the kind of posh English accent that only the Queen uses these days. She was probably one of the last members of a remote corner of the British Empire.

There is a British cemetery in Buenos Aires, tea-houses with frightfully English sounding names and a now semi-derelict department store downtown called Harrods, which bears no relation to the Knightsbridge original.

Southampton - taught us everything we know.

Southampton - taught us everything we know.

The other great thing the British brought the Argentines was the railways. A stroll around the Retiro station in Buenos Aires reveals buffers cast in Ipswich, steel girders produced in Liverpool and clocks made in London, which stopped about the time Argentinos Juniors last won a trophy.

There are still quaint railway stations in the Buenos Aires suburbs which look like they’ve been plucked straight out of the Suffolk countryside. And place names such as Coghlan, Hurlingham, City Bell and Open Door, which are pronounced in strong Spanish accents, making them unintelligible to English speakers.

There is still a strong British influence in agriculture here but what caused and still causes the most discomfort for what’s left of the Anglo-Argentine community was the 1982 invasion of the Falkland or Malvinas Islands. In the aftermath of Argentina’s eventual defeat some of the Johns and Georges started calling themselves Juan and Jorge. The English tower, a major Buenos Aires landmark donated by the British government, was renamed.

But the British influence on the foundation of football in Argentina remains. Its initial introduction by the toffs was consolidated by the British railway workers who played during their breaks in front of their bemused Argentine colleagues. The first reported game of football in Argentina was between two teams of railway workers, the White Caps and the Red Caps. I don’t know the result. I imagine the local workers, many of them Spanish and Italian immigrants, then realised: “Hey, we can do that! And probably better than this bunch of muppets.”

The truth is it took the Argentines a while to get the hang of football. With their own clubs now up and running, they invited some of England’s finest over to demonstrate how the game should be played. First off the steamboat in 1904 was Southampton who played five games in Argentina and one in Uruguay, winning them all by the kind of scores the club could only dream about now. And most were in front of crowds of more than 10,000. They beat Combinados de Argentinos 8-0 and Belgrano Athletic 6-1.

A year later Nottingham Forest came with their baggy shorts and slicked-back hair to again give the local chaps a footballing lesson. They beat Belgrano 7-0 and la Liga Argentina 9-1. It’s remarkable, with hindsight, that the Argentines didn’t ditch football at that point in favour of something like water-polo or badminton.

From the days before lung cancer...

From the days before lung cancer...

Everton and Tottenham both arrived in 1909 and played each other in a couple of exhibition matches, before clocking up some more rugby scores against the best that Argentina and Uruguay had to offer.

But the real turning point came with the visit in 1912 of Swindon Town. A local journalist wrote: “Argentine fans will be able to applaud undoubtedly one of the best teams in the world.” Another said: “The arrival of the famous Swindon Town marks another era in the history of Association Football in the Argentine.”

The Robins won six and drew two in front of crowds of up to 20,000. But the local teams were no longer being embarrassed against “undoubtedly one of the best teams in the world” The stabilizers were off. Argentine football was flying.

English words and phrases such as ‘referee’, ‘corner’, ‘manager’,‘offside’ and ‘that was quite clearly handball you stupid bastard’ are still used in Argentine football. I made that last one up but you get the drift.

The ball was kicked back in the opposite direction after Argentina won the 1978 World Cup with the arrival at Tottenham of Ossie Ardiles and Ricardo Villa — pioneers of a trail followed by Alberto Tarantini, Julio Arca, Fabricio Coloccini, Javier Mascherano, Carlos Tevez and even Nestor Lorenzo, repaying Swindon Town for their early guidance.

Argentinos Juniors appear to have lost the art of winning, having drawn four and lost two of the last six. They took an early lead in this one when Gabriel Hauche was gifted the ball in the visitor’s penalty area. Arsenal then bungled a sackful of chances and the home side were lucky to go in at half-time with the lead. It was reversed in the second half with Argentinos playing the better football but fluffing one opportunity after another and then giving away a late goal.

It’s a case of Argentinos Juniors playing out the last four games of the season from a comfortable but none too inspiring spot in the middle of the table.  The race for the title is now between unfashionable but unbeaten Banfield, who are two points clear of Newell’s Old Boys. Neither of the big boys, Boca or River, are in the running.

Chacarita Juniors 2  Argentinos Juniors 2

Argentinos Juniors have lost their way a bit lately – just two points from a possible nine in three games against opposition from the bottom of the table. Chacarita Juniors, newly promoted last season, needed to win this one and it showed, especially in the effusive way they celebrated their two goals. I just hope someone has spoken to them about the risk of unwanted pregnancies!

Argentina is a very touchy-feely society anyway, no-where more so than on the football pitch. The men kiss one another. Oh yes! Quite openly and without any shame. And not one of them is gay – that’s what they’ll tell you anyway.

Picture a similar scene in England: the pre-match niceties as Manchester United prepare to do Premiership battle against Arsenal. Sir Alex approaches Monsieur Wenger, slips his chewing gum into the side of his mouth, hugs Arsène and smacks a big kiss on his right cheek. Nothing fancy. No tongues or anything,  just a blokey hetero-sexual kiss. Implausible – certainly. Unimaginable – definitely.

But similar scenes take place during the pre-match warm-ups in Argentina every weekend.  It’s also happening on the street, in the workplace and beyond. Bloke on bloke kissing is rampant, and this in one of the most macho, meat devouring, hairy chested, some would say homophobic societies on the planet.  Of course, you kiss pretty much all women – bank managers, dentists, school teachers and your kids’ friends’ mums – definitely your kids’ friends’ mums. But not waitresses, unless you go to that café every day or she’s brought you an especially large steak and extra chips.

Goooollll!!!!

Goooollll!!!!

Don’t get me wrong. You can’t just kiss just any bloke you fancy.  You kiss your mates and your male relatives. In the pre-match handshaking ritual, those players from opposing teams who perhaps know one another from a previous club or the national team, will kiss. The referee and line officials, most definitely not and probably not the ball boys either.

It never used to be the case. About twenty years ago, male relatives kissed one another and that was it. It stopped there. I live here and have had to get used it – walking into any social setting with lips puckered. The trouble is that as a foreigner, you’re not always aware where the boundaries lie and when you’re overstepping the mark. I know that the rule is when you meet a man for the first time you proffer your hand. And when you depart, as a sign that you’re now friends, you kiss – perhaps accompanied by a matey slap on the upper arm.

Once that first kiss has broken the ice, you’ll kiss at every subsequent meeting. I’ve kissed male work colleagues, an insurance salesman, the headteacher at my sons’ school, a lawyer and assorted dads at the school. I’ve never kissed the ticket collectors on the trains, waiters or taxi drivers. If you’re meeting six mates in a bar, you’ll kiss them all on arrival and when you leave.

I’ve learnt that Sunday morning stubble and heavily food encrusted beards can be deeply unpleasant. Women and gay men – I now know your discomfort. But I know for sure that I’ve kissed men I did not know well enough and sometimes, confusing them with someone else, men I didn’t know at all. I just wasn’t sure and thought it better to lunge in rather than risk offending them.

All Alone and No-one to Kiss

All Alone and No-one to Kiss

Visits back to England have proved embarrassing. I now kiss as a matter of habit and it takes a day or two to re-accustom myself to the limp-handshake or rather weak ‘Alright,’ which pass as a greeting over there. I’ve simply been left dangling.

No-one seems to know how an act that twenty years ago would have got you a punch in the abdomen has become an intrinsic part of Argentine hetero-sexual culture.

Maybe it has helped to soften attitudes just a little – at least in Buenos Aires which nowadays has a vibrant, not quite open but certainly tolerated gay scene. Many bars and restaurants have been designated gay-friendly and every year gay cruise ships dock in Buenos Aires and the passengers paint the city pink. The Argentine government is proposing that gay marriages be legalised.

But like in Britain – Justin Fashanu apart – no professional Argentine footballer has ever come out of the changing room locker. All accept that a certain proportion of professional footballers, as in the rest of society, must be gay. It’s simply that no-one is prepared to be the first to admit it – not yet anyway.

Despite a woman president and woman defence minister, politics and big business are still dominated by men. It’s still a relatively unusual sight to see men pushing pushchairs and few will admit to having changed a nappy, although attitudes are changing. Men will generally only cook the Sunday meat barbeque.

Women are refereeing reserve team games and running the line in the top flight matches. The abuse hurled at the officials is incessant and vitriolic – to add sexism to the charge I don’t think would make a great deal of difference.

All this kissing is all very nice but it does nothing to lessen the aggression in the game. A defender will still scythe the legs from under a forward who ten minutes earlier he’d slapped his lips on.

Argentinos Junior’s Juan Mercier was sent off in the first half for violent conduct, Chacarita’s Mariano Echeverría went the same way in the second half for behaviour that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a dog fight. Another Chacarita player was stretchered off with a neck brace on. A last minute equaliser from Argentinos’s Mauro Bogado, with a blast from the edge of a crowded penalty area, meant plenty of relieved kissing all round.