Argentina  3  Costa Rica  0

With the group stage of the Copa America done and dusted it’s time for a round-up of the story so-far.  And what a story it’s been.

For a brief moment, a very brief moment, both giants of football in this part of the world looked like they might not qualify. Brazil stumbled through a couple of draws against Venezuela and Paraguay before relieving the tension with a 4-2 thumping of Ecuador.

And as Sergio Agüero poked that first goal past Costa Rica there was a palpable sigh of relief floating up to the skies above Argentina, like one of those farts that you’re not quite sure if anyone has heard.  It too was somewhat pungent, containing the residue of days of hot air and waffle from football fans and pundits alike pontificating on why the national team was not performing as it should.

Sergio Agüero - Maradona's son-in-law

Sergio Agüero - Maradona's son-in-law

Most of the blame seemed to rest on Leo Messi. Some asked: Is he even Argentine? He didn’t seem to know the words to the national anthem. Psychiatrists, politicians, former managers and players, Messi’s dad and the bloke that shines shoes at the corner of Cabildo and Congreso all had differing opinions.

“Play Javier Pastore,” went up one cry. He would be the solution. Why? I’m not sure. He’s not a bad player. But in a team boasting Agüero, Tevez, Di Maria et al, what would he do that they were not doing?

Both Colombia and Bolivia proved to be tougher in defence than many had anticipated. They put men on Messi. But rather than use the extra room that three men standing on Messi’s toes should have created, the likes of Tevez and Lavezzi ran stylishly into dead ends.

They reminded me of Georgi Kinkladze, formerly of Manchester City, who I saw several times at Upton Park. He was my favourite visiting player since you knew he would do magical things with the ball, have the home fans reluctantly gasping in bewilderment, before all his hard work resulted in absolutely nothing.

But faith has been restored by that three-nil drubbing of mighty Costa Rica, the only country in the world to disband its army. I shouldn’t really say this but if the Argentines won’t then someone must. This was only the Costa Rican youth team. They’d done well to beat Bolivia 2-0 and only lose by one goal to Colombia. But the goalkeeper wore braces on his teeth and, given the late kick-off, probably had a letter from his mum allowing him to stay up late.

Without that letter he’d have had to be substituted half an hour from the end to allow time for his cup of hot milk and a story before bed.

It’s Uruguay on Saturday in the quarter-finals. Argentina versus Uruguay is a bit like England against Scotland, but with good players.

Argentina pretty much ignores Uruguay most of the time, stealing its best players for its own league, buying up holiday homes and dirtying Uruguay’s much better beaches.

Uruguay whinges and moans about Argentina’s bullying and they glow with pride if you tell them how much more sophisticated and civilized they are compared to their bigger neighbours to the west.

But my tip for the title, riding on the crest of a 0% successful prediction rate, is Chile. They’re managed by Claudio ‘Bichi’ Borghi who brought Argentinos Juniors the national championship a little over a year ago.

He’s a man who plays attacking football yet shows little emotion. While those around him celebrate his team’s goals he might nod his head or stretch to a barely perceptible smile like a teacher acknowledging a piece of home-work well done. When championships are won and cups lifted, he might deign to rise from his seat.

Chile have played some great football to sit top of a tough group, containing Uruguay, a surprisingly competent Peru and Mexico. They’ll meet baseball playing Venezuela in the next round.

Brazil will play Paraguay who finished third in the same group, drawing all three games, usually after throwing away seemingly invincible leads. And Colombia clash with Peru. Ecuador, Costa Rica, Mexico and Bolivia are the four teams leaving early.

This competition is only going to get better. Watch this space.

Argentina  4  South Korea  1

Eight o’clock on a crisp, cold Thursday morning and the kids are all wrapped in their sky blue and white uniforms enthusiastically skipping to school. Why the rush? Why the excitement? Is it double maths with Señor Rodriguez or is Señorita Lopez taking them on a voyage of discovery through twentieth century Argentine literature?

Bollocks is it! At 8.30 sharp in the school hall it’s Argentina versus South Korea in their second Group B game. The education authorities have ruled that any child who does not attend school while Argentina are playing will not be penalised. Dripping with face paint, draped under the Argentine flag and wearing the latest overpriced national team shirts, Argentina’s school children were lined up in front of their big screens for a lesson in footballing magic that they’ll never forget.

The Big Screen

The Big Screen

And all arranged by the schools – the big screen, the supervision, the permission to stay at home – the lot.

With the young ones packed off for a day of learning, I headed downtown to the Plaza San Martin where the Buenos Aires city authorities have erected a huge screen. It was initially to show Argentina’s games but since it’s up anyway they’re showing all the games. So the plaza has become a magnet for stray Americans, Australians, Germans and Dutch to gather when their teams are in action.

The plaza is on the edge of the business district so there were plenty of suited men on the grassy slope for this game. A drunken Russian stood behind me, a posse of city cleaners in front, tossing scraps of newspaper in the air in the way that Argentines do at football matches. I’m not sure they realised in their excitement that it was they who’d be cleaning it all up after the game.

There was blue and white smoke, there was swearing, there was a very tall, broad-shouldered man who stood in front of me just as the match started. It was just like the real thing, the next-best thing to being in South Africa. Perhaps better than South Africa because all I had trespassing on my eardrums were the ramblings of the drunken Russian and not the incessant cacophony of vuvuzelas.

Fly the Flags

Fly the Flags

Most Argentines at the beginning of the tournament were cautiously optimistic about their team’s prospects. With each match, with each Messi run, with each minute that passes without Maradona making a complete boludo of himself and shaming the nation, that cautiousness subsides and the optimism grows.

This is a team still finding its feet, its players still getting to know one another. Gabriel Heinze was the hero in the first match, hat-trick Higuain this time round. It could be Agüero, Di Maria or Tevez in the games to come. And Diego Milito, the man who single-handedly won the Champions League final for Inter Milan, hasn’t yet been allowed to take his tracksuit off.

I still believe that Argentina were the best team in the 2006 World Cup. I believed in them but I’m not sure they believed in themselves and went out to an average German side in the quarter finals.

Diego Maradona is no tactical genius but what he is good at is inspiring his players. He’ll whip them into a frothing frenzy. He’s said that if Argentina lifts the trophy, he’ll run naked around the obelisk in the centre of Buenos Aires and that’s something we all want to see. Don’t we?

With Argentina’s fourth goal and a second victory safely tucked away, the workers drifted away from the plaza and to their offices and factories. Form 7c went to their classroom to find that they did afterall have double maths. Mr Rodriguez, probably of mixed Spanish, Uruguayan and maybe even South Korean descent, wasn’t going to let a mere game of football deprive him of an opportunity to inflict sado-masochistic algebra on his pupils.

The Argentine side has shown to a country that takes its football very seriously — a country that suspends school for the big games for Christ’s sake! — that it’s a team to be taken seriously.

If I were in the Greek team, firstly I’d be very surprised. Secondly I’d have to change my name to Papadopoulos and thirdly, I’d be very scared indeed.