The domestic programme is taking a break while Argentina suffers the torturous agony of trying to qualify for the 2010 World Cup. The nation breathed a huge sigh of relief on a rain-soaked Saturday night as old war-horse Martín Palermo stabbed home an extra-time winner against bottom side, no-hopers, Peru.

Peru are not exactly San Marino but they’d won only two out of their previous sixteen qualifying games, and neither of those outside of Lima. And the fact that manager, Diego Maradona, had to divert Palermo from the knackers yard to pull on his sky-blue and white shirt illustrated the sorry state that Argentina finds itself in.

Monument to Uruguay's Glory

They sit in the fourth and final automatic qualifying spot and victory against Uruguay, in Montevideo, on Wednesday night will guarantee them a trip to South Africa. But victory for Uruguay, who are just a point behind, will do the same for them. And Ecuador, a point behind Uruguay and two behind Argentina, will play already qualified Chile with high hopes of at least clinching the fifth place play-off spot and a couple of games against a very small country from Central America. Put simply, Argentina must win on Wednesday.

But imagine Argentina were England and had to win in Glasgow to qualify. And a victory for Scotland would put them on the plane to South Africa instead. That’s what the game against Uruguay represents, but even more so.

Argentina, with some of the most expensive talent on the planet at their disposal, look like a bunch of Sunday morning sloggers who have got the kick-off time wrong and thought “Sod it, let’s get a few beers in before the game.”

Maradona took over a losing team and led them further down a road of confusion and contradiction. He knows Messi must play but doesn’t know who to play him alongside and has tried pretty much everyone apart from his mum.

Victory over Uruguay is crucial for Argentina but it’s pretty important for Uruguay too. It’s a small country defined to a large degree by its relationship with its dominant, overpowering, sometimes bullying neighbour.  Argentines, on the other hand, rarely even think about Uruguay except when it comes to choosing holiday destinations. And now they have the audacity to block their path to the World Cup!

Uruguay was born in 1828 out of a treaty brokered by the British after a 500-day war between Argentina and Brazil. Because of its liberal politics it became known as ‘The Switzerland of South America’ despite little in the way of mountains, chocolate or cuckoo clocks. It does have a fair few banks though.

It also boasts plenty of fine meat, tango and football – which makes it, to the untrained eye, a lot like Argentina, only smaller and quieter. There are less than four million Uruguayans so your chances of running into one are slim. But if you should, don’t ever compare them to the Argentines. They would find that offensive. Instead, talk about the two World Cups they’ve won.

They won the first World Cup ever in 1930, beating none-other than old rivals Argentina in the final. But the one they’re really proud of is victory in the 1950 final against Brazil in the Maracana stadium. There are monuments to that win erected in Montevideo. Stamps were printed, medals were awarded and books written.

On the Slide

Despite some fine players, like Atlético Madrid goal-machine Diego Forlán, they’re unlikely to win a third World Cup. But they’re good enough to qualify and hold their own. And if they can put Argentina out of the competition along the way there’ll be some hats tossed into the air in the streets of Montevideo. Who knows, they might even keep the bars open for an extra half an hour or so.

The Argentine media is talking about failure to qualify as though it were the end of the world. Argentina, despite its huge promise, rarely figures in those world lists of top ten best this or best that. Except when it comes to football. So to not even make the top thirty or so teams gathering in South Africa, let alone the best four in South America, would be a huge blow to national pride.

Argentina didn’t qualify for the 1970 finals and lived to fight another day. But this time they’ve got Messi, Tévez, Agüero and more. Failure to qualify this time would be a national catastrophe with political and economic implications.

But looking on the bright side, it should, although I doubt it will, force Argentina to look at the dismal state of their national game and begin a much-needed rebuilding. They can’t rely on Palermo poking one in from the middle of a goal-mouth scramble. And I’m not sure Maradona could handle another celebratory belly slide across a rain-sodden pitch like the one he performed on Saturday.

It was the first home game of the season and I’m still finding my bearings so was not surprised to go through the turnstile and emerge in the section behind the goal where the barrabrava or hardcore fans stand. Yes, they still stand at Argentine grounds, leaning against metal posts, behind huge fences topped with razor wire. Ah! The old days.

The barrabrava in Argentina have a bit of a reputation. Not just for violence, which there is plenty of. Their influence, their poisonous stain, seeps much deeper into the Argentine game than it ever did in England. In some cases they control the terraces, dealing in tickets and selling drugs. There are reports of some controlling players’ contracts and, in a system in which club presidents are elected by the fans, having an undue and malignant influence on the running of some clubs.

So I was mightily relieved when I claimed my spot behind the goal to find I was standing near a couple of elderly ladies, grannies to be precise, although I wouldn’t say that to their faces of course. They wore their red Argentinos Juniors shirts stretched over bellies that had spent a lifetime being filled with Choripanes, the fatty sausages obligatory at football matches. They didn’t look like they were going to beat the crap out of anybody, although I wouldn’t want to risk walking muddy shoes over their living-room floor or playing football near their gardens.
There were also couples with babies, boyfriends and girlfriends holding hands and teenage boys with their dads.

Argentinos Junior’s reputation as a friendly neighbourhood club, a barrio club, was confirmed. I was safe.
There were some mean-looking heavily tatooed fellows hanging from the railings and a gentle waft of marijuana tinged the early evening air. There was a line of policemen at the back of the stand sporting an array of moustaches of the variety I’ve only ever seen displayed by Latin American policemen.

And the Banfield fans, decked in green and white, had come in numbers from their industrial suburb south of Buenos Aires.

But elsewhere, with the season still fresh out of its wrapping, the barrabrava had been doing their worst.
At the Boca Juniors training ground their goalscoring hero, a man who sweats blue and yellow blood for the team, Martin Palermo, was threatened by seven fans who called him a traitor for saying nice things, gentlemanly, sportsmanlike things, about a rival club.

“Who sent you?” asked Palermo, knowing they wouldn’t have bypassed the training ground security without some inside help. He once dedicated a goal to Rafa Di Zeo, a friend and former boss of the Boca barrabrava, now on day-release from prison where he’s serving time for beating up rival fans during a supposedly friendly match. While Di Zeo is out of action, a new man, Mauro Martin, has filled the void and there’s talk of a third faction edging into any spare gaps left on the terraces.

Boca 'fan' Rafa Di Zeo

The battle for control of the barrabrava over at city rivals River Plate has spilled out onto the streets, with organised pitched battles and one ‘lieutenant’ being shot dead in a hit worthy of a Colombian drug gang.

The so-called fans at South American champions, Estudiantes, have also been in action. Last week, they went looking for former Manchester United and Chelsea player, Juan Sebastian Veron. They wanted to discuss the weekend’s derby match between Estudiantes and their La Plata city rivals, Gimnasia. Their spokesman was a man called Omar Alonso, recently released from fifteen years in prison for killing a taxi driver and drug dealing. Not the kind of man I’m inviting to my birthday party.

At the very least the barrabrava demand that the players give them tickets and free shirts. The clubs sometimes pay their travel and accommodation costs for away matches. One particularly influential bunch had an all-expenses paid trip to Germany for the 2006 World Cup.

In return, they promise security, loud support for the team and block votes for the candidates in the always keenly fought elections for club president. Let’s face it, if you’re too old, fat or useless to play the game, wouldn’t running your own local club do instead?

And because of this support, because the barrabrava have friends in the police force and in politics, in some cases are members of the police force or work for their local council or trade union, there is little talk about bringing them into line. Whenever they get out of control and there’s a killing or a players’ bus is attacked, there’s a lot of muttering and mumbling about doing something to curtail their influence. But generally they’re left to fight amongst themselves.
I could see none of that from where I stood behind the goal at the Diego Armando Maradona stadium. Simply a lot of noise and flag-waving which is just how it should be. I also saw Santiago Silva put the visitors ahead early on after a defensive blunder by Argentinos.

Gabriel Hauche, developing into a crowd favourite, put the home side back on level terms in the second half and one-one is how it ended – although Argentinos Juniors were probably lucky to escape with a point after some goal-line scares.

So two draws from two games. And I’ve staked my place on the terrace, just to the right of the goal, about fifteen steps up, to the right of the grannies, just behind where a couple spent most of the game snogging and to the left of a gaggle of very small children who accidently hit me often with long Argentinos Juniors balloons that they were given at the start of the game.