Boca Juniors  0  Argenetinos Juniors  2

It’s quite an experience to enter into the lair of the dragon then emerge, exuberant,  two hours later with a couple of bags of his goodies. The Bombonera is big, noisy and potentially intimidating. But not to us, the hardy supporters of modest Argentinos Juniors, nor to the players who put on a brave performance and snuck away with two late goals – one from Santiago Gentiletti, the other from Ciro Riuz.

We owe a huge dollop of thanks to the Argentinos ‘keeper, Nicolas Navarro, who put on a performance of breathtaking agility. This game marked the return to the Boca ranks of their miserable but masterful maestro, Juan Roman Riquelme. He’s been out injured for six months and there were times when I could see why he’s been sorely missed. His vision and passing were sublime. Unfortunately for Boca, their aging war horse, Martin Palermo, looked like he needed to be retired to nibble grass in a meadow.

Dragon's Lair

Dragon's Lair

Boca are in crisis. So are their main rivals, River Plate. The two meet in their next match for the so-called superclasico – a fixture looking less and less a clasico and a long way from super.

How they must pine for the days, not so long ago, when Mauricio Macri was their president and if a trophy sparkled, Boca won it. He’s now mayor of Buenos Aires. The city muddles through. It’s hard to know to what degree its successes and failures can be accredited to him.

He is basically the son of a very wealthy businessman who adopted Boca as his toy and then did much the same with the city council, possibly using it as a springboard for a career in national politics.

In my line of work I’ve had what some would call the privilege, others would say was the misfortune to meet a fair few politicians. What has always surprised me, with one or two notable exceptions, is that they always came across as less intelligent than their public image led us to believe they were. Often, they were just downright thick, or somehow lacking in the kind of worldliness you’d expect of a person who represents the people.

The truth is that if you’re not a self-serving, hypocritical, arse-licking, two-faced piece of shit when you go into the business, you’d better become one very soon if you’re to survive and prosper.

Most of us, because we’re nice people with ideals and compassion, look at the options and say: “No thank-you very much. I’m going to earn my living as a carpenter or a professional footballer or work on the supermarket check-out where I get to shout several times a day: “More change please Mavis.”

Intrepid Bichos

Intrepid Bichos

But we need politicians, apparently. So we’re left in a terrible situation where none of us, because we’re nice people with ideals and compassion, is willing to take on this essential service. Instead, we’ve got the kind of people making decisions on our behalf we’d certainly not want to share a beer with and probably wouldn’t even let into our homes to unblock our toilets.

Because we’re not willing to take on this task, do we have the right to criticise those who do? Of course we bloody do! So I will. This mild rant is merely a prelude to an attack on an Argentine politician who I’ve not met but have recently taken a particular dislike to as a result of a couple of stupid comments he’s made.

The target of my vitriol is the economy minister, Amado Boudou. He’s a youngish, trendy sort of chap often photographed at the better Buenos Aires restaurants. Economy minister in Argentina is one of the few jobs more precarious than first division football manager. That’s mostly because they’re ineffectual puppets and that’s because the president, or more recently the former president, Nestor Kirchner, until he died last month, runs the economy.

Then, as soon as something goes wrong the minister gets the blame and is sacked and replaced by someone equally as ineffectual. The other reason they’re sacked is if they forget their place and speak out of turn. Boudou’s days are numbered.

Firstly, in a row between the government and the main media groups, he accused the two major newspapers of being like the people who cleared out the Nazi gas chambers. Not surprisingly, he provoked outrage in the Jewish community both in Argentina and beyond.

He was forced to make a half-hearted and none-too-convincing apology. Then, learning nothing from his experience, he said that inflation was a problem that only concerned the middle and upper classes. He added that the true rate of inflation in Argentina is, anyway, what the official statistics office, INDEC, says it is.

Inflation in Argentina is one of the highest in the world. Meat now costs double what it cost last year. Milk and bread are about 50% more. But INDEC would have us believe that annual inflation is no more than 10%.

Boudou. Be-doobie-doo!

Boudou. Be-doobie-doo!

Their monthly announcements are met with snorts of derision and incredulity. It’s certainly true that the middle and upper classes are suffering. The price of pilates classes has gone up, taxi drivers recently increased their tariffs and the cost of sending your kids to private schools goes up at least 20% a year.

But the working classes and the people in the shanty towns also need milk, bread and clothes for themselves and their children. Some have received wage increases, many have not. The shanty towns are growing, the number of people sleeping on the streets has gone up, along with the figures for those who have fallen below the poverty line.

But INDEC also changes the figures related to poverty to make the government look better. Since INDEC have all the tools at their disposal and the rest of us simply shop, it was at first difficult to challenge their credibility with our anecdotal evidence. But, eventually, the truth will out.

We shop every day and the prices rise pretty much every day. The workers at INDEC have been known to leave their desks and protest on the streets that they were not being allowed to do their jobs without government interference.

Newspapers employ an army of independent economists to produce an inflation figure closer to the true one that we experience every day.

Last month, a leading delegate at an international conference in Chile complained about the presence there of the head of INDEC, Ana Edwin. The former head of statistics in Canada, Jacob Ryten, called her invitation deplorable.

He said that inviting Edwin was like inviting a convicted thief to discuss the sanctity of private property.

But this blog remains inflation proof. It costs nothing and will continue to cost nothing. It looks to me like Estudiantes are running away with the Apertura title. After a 3-0 Friday night win over Lanus, they’re now clear of second placed Velez, who keep up the pressure with a 3-2 win at Banfield. Olimpo trounced Huracan 4-0. Racing and Arsenal drew 2-2 and Newell’s and Godoy Cruz shared the spoils without goals. With the superclasico between Boca and River just around the corner, River are also in crisis after losing 1-0 at All Boys. The Bichos’s next opponents, San Lorenzo drew 1-1 with Independiente and Colon beat Tigre 1-0. The bottom club, Quilmes, lost 1-0 to the team just above them, Gimnasia. The players’ bus was attacked by their own fans then, when they arrived back at their ground, they found their cars had been vandalised. Football is no fun when you’re losing.

Arsenal  2  Argentinos Juniors  2

This was one of those trips across town to a nether region of Greater Buenos Aires, Sarandi, requiring a convoluted combination of bus, train and underground travel. And for that, you need loose change which is often as sparse as decent options in a West Ham attack.

Like Gold

Like Gold

The banks will, reluctantly, change ten pesos worth. I, however, choose to queue outside a hole in the wall at the main Retiro train terminal for twenty pesos of clinky, shiny coins. Then, if I’ve got the time and no-one’s spotted me, I’ll queue again and head home with pockets bulging like the cheeks of a hamster that’s just emerged from an ‘All You Can Eat’ granary and jangling like the Tin Man on speed.

This is the only country I know where one peso can be worth more than two pesos. That’s because if it’s pissing with rain and I’m far from home, then I’d gladly exchange my crisp, new but easily obtainable two peso note, which the buses won’t accept, for a grubby, sweaty one peso coin, which they do. And I’d dance a tango and perform a little juggling trick as the tip.

This shortage of change is an inconvenience to public transport users like myself. But it’s also turning me into a liar. “No,” I’ll mumble and fumble when the shopkeeper asks if I’ve got any change. “I haven’t got any, none whatsoever, not a thing.” He knows I’m lying and I know that he knows that I’m lying, but what can I do?

I have to consider the welfare of that huge army of one-legged Peruvian guitar players, blind Bolivian jugglers and banjo-playing waifs and strays that strolls the aisles of the buses and trains to earn a few pennies to feed their hungry families. And of course, I need my own bus fare home.

This shortage of change has never been adequately explained which gives rise to a wide array of conspiracy theories. One is that the bus drivers sell 90 pesos worth of coins for 100 pesos on the black market.

Travelling Bichos

Travelling Bichos

The man behind me in the queue had the idea that the Argentine Central Bank bought their coins for US dollars but were short of readies because President Cristina Kirchner hoarded the greenbacks to finance her shopping trips to New York. There was something in there about Paraguayan gun runners and a large shipment of marmalade from Tanzania but it was my turn to be served and I couldn’t stay to join up the dots.

Conspiracy theories abound, partly because of the manipulation and often downright dearth of official information.

The official government statistics office, the INDEC, quite blatantly misquotes the inflation figures. President Kirchner never gives interviews and rarely attends news conferences and her ministers follow her lead.

Football, as it so often does, mirrors the rest of society. Those who run the clubs are accountable only to shady politicians and the tougher elements of the barra brava to whom they owe favours, so it’s very difficult to get a grasp of what’s going on in the corridors and dark corners of the grounds.

One of the biggest footballing mysteries of all is that surrounding Argentina’s 1978 World Cup win, with their place in the final rumoured to have been bought by the then military dictatorship.

There were two groups of four in what passed for the semi-finals, with the top team in each going through to the final. The Dutch clinched their spot but Argentina needed to beat Peru by at least four clear goals to meet them. They scored six.

Worthy Winners?

Worthy Winners?

It could simply have been that a very good home team, boasting Passarella, Ardiles, Kempes and Tarantini, did what they had to do – and more – against a tired Peru.

But the Peruvian keeper, Ramón Quiroga, was born in Argentina. There’s been talk of men in funny jackets making clandestine visits to the Peruvian players, of phone conversations between the Argentine military and their counterparts in Lima and Argentine ships laden with goodies sitting off the Peruvian coast just waiting for that fourth goal to go in before upping anchors and sailing into port while the crew danced a victory jig on the poop deck and tossed presents from the crow’s nest.

None of this has ever been convincingly proved nor satisfactorily disproved and is likely to be discussed for as long as football is played and beer is drunk – or Alex Ferguson discards that piece of gum he’s been chewing for the past forty years. Whichever is the sooner.

It’s all a bit like the debate over whether England’s third goal in the 1966 World Cup final crossed the line or not. Except without the ships and the military and the llamas. Didn’t I mention the llamas? But apart from that – almost the same.

There  were plenty of theories circulating the terraces at this game. Arsenal is where the Argentine Football Association boss, Julio Grondona, began his long career. So every dodgy refereeing decision – and there were plenty here tonight – is met with a chorus of abuse insinuating that the fellow in black had been ‘got at’  by the top man.

Argentinos were a tad unlucky but were really not good enough to grab all three points. That would have put on them on top but perhaps they were struck by stage fright. They started well with an early goal from José  Luis Calderón,, who is old enough to have been a ballboy at that ’78 final. But Arsenal pulled one back before half-time then took the lead early in the second half with a penalty which really shouldn’t have been.

The visitors were unusually disjointed and gave the ball away far too often. They were just not themselves. But Facundo Coria did equalise just before the final whistle and Argentinos Juniors now sit just one point behind the joint leaders, Estudiantes and Independiente with four games to go.