Los Argentinos Invaden (and We Return the Favor)

Well, it's our last day. So we started it with a solemn ceremony of sleeping in until about 8:00.

Quinn did, anyway. I got up and did a little laundry by hand. Pants only - the underwear I did by hand the other day can stand up by themselves. I'll not be making that mistake again. 

We hit the road at about 10:00, since we had errands to run. We hit the post office, which looks like every other post office in the world:

We changed some money, and then we went to the subway station and headed to the game. I know I've put up similar images before, but I just can't help myself:

The Swiss were there, living up their stereotypes. As in the other games featuring South Americans, I saw no one from Argentina doing anything similar:

The game: These were our seats:

I took a picture of these two because of the rugby shirt the one on the left was wearing. Unfortunately, they turned out to be more significant than just that. The one on the right had probably six beers and refused to sit down early in the game, and tangled a bit with those behind him, including us. Added a little tension I could've done without. 

Here's the opening ceremony: 

You can tell by the general shade of the crowd which team had more fans in attendance. I think the aregentines outdid the Chileans in that regard, but not by too much. Still, it was an elimination game - more significant than the Chile game we saw. After the game, we met the Argentines who were staying at our hostel, and they turn out to have grown up with one of the Argentine team members - Pablo Zavaleta. A really nice bunch - they're all late twenties, no kids (except a couple, about 5 years old, who tagged along for the trip), and they're driving from game to game, following the team. They haven't taken vacations for several years so they'd have money and time to go on this oddyssey. Super polite, friendly, nice folks.

I point this out to counterbalance the fact that many of the Argentine fans at this game were, by far, the most obnoxious and boorish I've seen at the Cup. To be truthful, they're the ONLY obnoxious and boorish group I can recall seeing. I've seen some obnoxious individual Brazilians, and Australians, and Brits - but never hordes of any of those, and never behaving this terribly. Picking fights, screaming lengthy insults at the top of their lungs, giving the finger and lolling  their tongues in wild-eyed hysteria and making other, graphic, obscene gestures at random supporters of he other team...the ONLY people I ever saw do any of that, and the only ones I ever saw security people drag out of the building, were Argentines. 

Of course, I saw and walked past thousands of Argentines, literally, who did no such thing. And the A-holes numbered at most in the dozens. But the truth of it is inescapable: All such guys, all of them, were Argentines.

Counterbalanced by the Swiss, who might as well have been carrying briefcases for how polite and collected they seemed. 

Really, none of what I witnessed affected us. Except that in the end, when Argentina scored, I couldn't help myself, and high-fived the guy on the right, who was beaming and celebrating like mad. And at the end I congratulated both of them; they both hugged me warmly and apologized, and I said "for what? Forget it. It didn't happen." We all left feeling good.

Those guys had their faults, but they were also the life of the party. They were joking with he Brazilians sitting with them, taking pictures with them, laughing like kids - one of them, the guy on he left, lives here; he said in Portuguese to the people next to me, "I have three Brazilian kids, but I'll still never support the soccer team." Maybe I'm just a grump. The excitement was everywhere, and I think I took up an oppositional stance with these guys that wasn't really necessary. The mood, though, largely overcame the negativity in the air.

I mean, what a game. Over all I'd say the Argentines were more skilled and exact, and seemed to have more real chances, but there's no real reason the Swiss couldn't have won. When the Argentines scored, the place erupted with the kind of jubilation I had hoped to see from the Chileans; and when the Swiss hit the post as time wore down, the gasp - screams from a lot of people - were just as piercing. It was an incredible experience. 

Here's us at the stadium:

And here's one of the Argentines in our hostel . I took his picture because (a) he wasn't looking, and (b) he looks just like Luis Suarez:

I realized this evening that I may not have given you much information on what the hostel really looks like. So here are a few more shots:

The reception area:

A wider shot of the main sitting room, where we watched most of our televised games, including USA-Belgium tonight:

The secondary sitting / eating area, where the Chileans had set up:

The breakfast area:

And that, folks, is all for Brazil. A cab is coming towhi us away at 4:00 AM tomorrow, and we'll be on a plane at 7:00.  We aren't done traveling - we're off to Cordoba, Argentina, to stay with the Fureys, whom I met last April when I took students abroad. Jeel, one of my students, was their guest for six days, and they had me over to dinner a time or two. We hit it off, and I asked if they'd mind some visitors for a few days post-Brazil. Remarkably, they agreed - mostly because I sweetened the deal by bringing Quinn. They have a 13-year-old named Conrado, and we're eager to have them meet. I feel really lucky and gratefully to have such nice people waiting to take us in for a post-Cup adventure. It's going to be much more social and intimate than this Brazilian jaunt has been, and it doesn't feel like a blog is the best way to treat it. So, then, this is it. The last installment! 

Dry your eyes, folks. There's still Facebook. 

Today, in the stadium, Quinn, a propos of nothing, in the middle of the game, said, "I can't wait to go to Argentina tomorrow...but I don't want to leave Brazil."

And that, friends, is called The Sweet Spot.