No more South Americans

The Uruguayans are out. The Brazilians are out. They were KO’d by France and Belgium.

The Uruguayans badly missed Edinson Cavani, who was injured.

The Brazilians badly missed Casemiro, the world’s most valuable player, who was suspended for having accumulated too many yellow cards.

The Brazilians scored a decisive goal against themselves, and the Uruguayans missed a few golden chances to even the score against the French. That’s the problem with the World Cup, I think. It doesn’t matter how good a team is in the qualifying phase, or in the World Cup’s group stage, or in an early knockout round. A country only needs to be unlucky in the wrong match.

Four more years down the drain.

Santos vs. Barcelona

Last night, for the Copa Libertadores, Barcelona visited Santos of Brazil. The teams played the second leg of the quarterfinal stage.

Santos is the club at which the following illustrious players spent their formative years:

(1) Pelé;

(2) Robinho (a twerp); and

(3) Neymar (an arch-twerp).

Neymar has been in the headlines lately. He was caught, en pleno partido, bickering with his Paris Saint-Germain teammate, Edinson Cavani, on the question of who should take a certain penalty kick. This is what they probably said:

Cavani: “I’m PSG’s incumbent penalty-kick taker. I should take this penalty kick.”

Neymar: “My transfer to PSG cost €222 million. I should take all the penalty kicks. Give me the ball.”

I have no great love for Santos or for its twerps.

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During last week’s first leg, Santos played defensively and got a lucky goal. (To me, the goal seemed offside.) That game ended 1 to 1. And so, last night in Brazil, Barcelona was obliged to score at least one goal so as to avoid succumbing​ to the away-goals tiebreaker.

Last night’s game started with Santos attacking more than Barcelona. Then Barcelona began its onslaught. Santos retreated. Barcelona pounded and pounded, but without precision or success.

The (neutral) announcers kept talking about how Barcelona deserved to win. They had a fatalistic tone. It all seemed pretty bleak.

The goal arrived at minute 70, more or less. ¡Gol! ¡Gol! I shouted, alarming Ziva and Jasper.

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My joy was short-lived. Barcelona’s goalscorer, Jonathan Álvez, was red-carded. The teams’ roles were reversed: Barcelona defended and Santos desperately attacked.

The game turned into a high-tension brawl, typical of the Copa Libertadores. Each team suffered one more red card. Barcelona’s players guarded the result, wasting time and rolling on the ground, observing the proper etiquette.

They did just enough to win.

Santos was Barcelona’s third Brazilian opponent of this year. A fourth awaits in the semifinal: Grêmio, of Porto Alegre.

The election, pt. 2

This photo was taken right after Mary and I voted. We didn’t plan to wear these shirts; we didn’t consult each other. To each of us it simply seemed the proper thing to do.

Ecuador’ll play a World Cup qualifier in Montevideo at 6:00 tonight. The Uruguayans are without Edinson Cavani. The Ecuadorians, also, are stricken with injuries and suspensions.

Just as this week many U.S. citizens prayed for a favorable electoral result, I now pray for Ecuador to win this soccer game (and I ask you to, too).

Speaking of the election, my preferred candidate lost. Certainly, there will be some awful consequences. And yet this result is not wholly ungratifying. The mighty have fallen; the cocksure have been slapped in the face. And by “the cocksure” I don’t mean Trump, who wears his insecurities on his sleeve. I mean, more polished people.

I recall how, early during the Republican primaries, a former professor of mine would post “Go, Trump, go!” on his Facebook wall, sardonically eager for the Democrats to contend with a “weak” opponent in the general election. It’s this sort of arrogance – this dismissal of those who don’t approximate certain standards of “decorum” and “enlightenment,” standards reachable for only a limited number of people – that has fueled the anger that lifted Trumpie into office.

I’ve long been more dismayed by this arrogance than by any of Trump’s transgressions.

Gloating

This talk show is gratifying to watch. Stephen and I fondly recalled it last night, while we were observing the futility of Argentina and Brazil.

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The team that gained on everyone was Bolivia, due to their two-goal victory over Venezuela. But the team that leapt into first place was Ecuador.

Stephen was irked because the Uruguayans “were not dominated completely.”

Indeed, they blemished our defensive record. Edinson Cavani, slightly offside, headed in a goal.

I had to remind Stephen that the Uruguayans are always difficult to play against, because of their garra, and because of their counterattacking prowess.

Also, I noted, many of our best players were absent.

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But I preferred to focus on our achievements.

Our first goal was exquisite. It was crafted by three different players: el Zar, la Hormiga, and Felipao.

Later, even Fidel Martínez acquitted himself. He scored a tap-in.

See for yourselves.

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Except for Martínez’s goal, I didn’t view these events when they occurred. I was busy tutoring (alas). My final pupil, a middle-aged Moroccan, noticed that I was streaming a soccer game on my computer; and so her assignment took on a less urgent feel for her. We watched until the game ended. Then we finished going over her assignment, after I’d clocked out.

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Perhaps my tone in writing about Ecuador has sounded more and more cocky since October 8, the day of the Argentina game. I’m sure it’s painful to listen to. I don’t mean to give offense.

But I understand now how the Argentinians and the Brazilians *used to* feel, during their periods of overwhelming excellence.

Copa América: the quarterfinals

The male Sabby helped me to watch Brazil’s demise. … Robinho scored early, and then Brazil allowed Paraguay to attack for the rest of the game.

Paraguay drew level with a penalty kick. It was conceded lamely by Thiago Silva, one of Brazil’s best players.

“How miserable to be a member of this Brazil team,” said the announcers, who were from Peru. “How miserable to be Dunga.” This, while the score was 1 to 1.

Everton Riberio – late substitute, purported penalty specialist – brushed his penalty kick out of bounds. Douglas Costa also missed. The Paraguayans shot as accurately as they had to.

Yesterday, I watched a riveting game between Argentina and Colombia. (Karin helped me.) Though the Colombians were second-best, David Ospina gave Messi and Co. some difficulty, and his teammates also had their moments. When the Colombians lost their shootout, it was no disgrace. … Earlier in the week, Peru beat Bolivia (which the announcers won’t stop harping on about). Karin and the male Sabby stayed awhile afterwards. We watched the dancing girls on Peruvian TV.

Chile eliminated Uruguay. The defining moment was when the Chilean Gonzalo Jara touched Edinson Cavani on his bottom. The world has not finished condemning this heinous act. (The Chilean press already is at peace with it, according to the Peruvians.)