After strong complaints from bus passengers and members of my family, I’ve put the Argentinos Juniors shirt I was wearing at Sunday’s championship-clinching game in the wash. It’s a symbolic sign that the season is well and truly over and the time for reflection is upon us.

Much has been written about this Clausura 2010 championship since pretty much every Argentine is a football expert and some of the lucky ones even manage to earn a living by adding a tinge of authority to their rantings and ravings.

The Moment

Nearly all seem to agree that the Red Bugs were worthy winners – not for their money because they ain’t got much, not for their sturdy defence for they shipped a fair few and not for their power and influence in the Argentine game since this is a small neighbourhood club with a ramshackle but often intimidating ground.

The word I’ve seen more than any other is ‘dignified.’ They were dignified champions who brought dignity to the Argentine league.

The manager, Claudio Borghi, brought together a collection of strong personalities and melded them into a team. It was a team in which the first priority was always to play attractive, attacking football. They held their shape, the midfield created options and, what always struck me, was that the whole team seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The player who perhaps best symbolises this team is 39-year-old Jose Luis Calderon. A fine physical specimen, he ran as much as the youngsters. “With his experience, he calmed us in moments of madness,” said teammate, Nicolas Pavlovich.

Borghi brought him out of retirement, convinced he still had much to give. Calderon played seven-hundred and forty-three games in his long career, after making his debut for Estudiantes in 1992. He played for Napoli in Italy, America and Atlas in Mexico, won the Argentine league and the Libertadores cup with Estudiantes and the Copa Sudamericana with Arsenal.

Borghi substituted him ten minutes before the end of the Huracan game and the crowd erupted. His teammates crowded around him and tears were no doubt shed. “It was a dignified way to end my career,” said Mr Calderon.

But he wasn’t alone. There was also that magical midfield partnership between Nestor Ortigoza and Juan Mercier. “It’s like a marriage,” they said. I think I know what they meant but I’d rather not pry into their private lives.

In attack, there was Ismael Sosa, uncomfortable at Independiente, he was borrowed by Borghi who knew how to bring out the best in him. He’s fast, wears bright yellow boots and was the club’s top scorer with nine goals.

The names will be remembered by the young Argentinos Juniors fans when they’re in their nineties and have forgotten where they left their false teeth. The slightly eccentric goalkeeper, Nicolas Peric, that defensive rock, Matias Caruzzo, the tireless running of Gustavo Oberman and the personality of Ignacio Canuto.

And then, of course, the man at the helm – Claudio ‘Bichi’ Borghi – a fine player in his day and Argentinos Juniors lynchpin the last time they won the championship twenty-five years ago. Whether the team was winning or losing, playing well or not, he sat like a frozen Buddha in his dugout, calm, collected and confident that the team was on the right track and that eventually they’d win through. They usually did, losing only two games all season and often leaving it until the final five minutes to plop the ball in the net.

So a great team but a one off, frozen in time. No sooner had those millions of scraps of paper thrown by the fans washed into the gutter to block the drains the next time it rains, than the talk of dismantling had begun.

Borghi is hot favourite to take over at slumbering giants, Boca Juniors. The thinking is: “If he can produce a championship-winning team with everyone else’s flotsam and jetsam, just think what he’ll do with Boca’s money and influence!” Mercier and Caruzzo may well follow him.

The Celebration

Now that Independiente know what Sosa can do, they’ll want him back and I doubt they’ll even say ‘thank-you.’ Calderon has already swapped his boots for carpet slippers and Ortigoza – my own favourite – would grace any team in the world with his effective tackling, pinpoint passing and inability to give up.

So what now? Well, let’s enjoy the moment for a little longer. The rump of a good team remains and the spirit and tradition are still there. So much depends on who takes over from Borghi and how many players the club manages to hold onto. They will be playing in the Sudamericana and the Libertadores cups which should bring in cash to bolster the squad.

And Argentinos Juniors is not known as the seedbed of Argentine football for nothing. A healthy crop of youngsters is sprouting up through the ranks and there’s hope that we won’t have to wait another twenty-five years to reap a harvest like this one.

I’m off now to do a bit of research, scouting the backstreets and alleyways of Buenos Aires for the best bars and cafes in which to watch the World Cup. I may be gone for some time.