Emelec 1, Independiente del Valle 1

The home-and-away series’s concluding leg was played last night, and Independiente del Valle became Ecuadorian champions for the first time.

It rained hard in Guayaquil, and the flooded grass made for a hideous but fascinating match. The ball wouldn’t roll. All preparation had to be disregarded; the players could only improvise.

By the end of the game, even dribbles and short passes had to be lifted off the ground. The most skillful players, such as IDV’s Junior’s Sornoza, set the example. Every touch was a neat little aerial chip.

IDV weren’t able to dominate as in the first leg, but even under these weird conditions, it was clear that they were the better team.

Here are highlights of IDV’s first-leg victory in Sangolquí.

Everyone knows that little IDV is Ecuador’s best-run club. The truth is, this first domestic title was late in coming. IDV have my warmest congratulations.

Any year that Emelec and Liga de Quito don’t win is a good year.

O Christmas tree

Quito, my birth city, turns 513 years old today; its fiestas should be just concluding. Last night, its suburb of Sangolquí observed a great success. Independiente del Valle built a two-goal lead over Emelec in the first of two games that will decide the Ecuadorian championship.

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Karin put up a Christmas tree, and, predictably, Samuel has been knocking it over and taking off the ornaments. Even so, he’s treating it more reverently than I expected. He knows a thing or two about Christmas trees, having familiarized himself with a picture-book version of A Charlie Brown Christmas.

I am so tired of reading that book, last week I broke down and ordered the DVD. I hope it calms his urges.

Fear not, Samuel says, quoting Linus’s recitation about the angel and the shepherds.

Today I saw him paging through a Christmas board book that he never used to look at much. He was talking to himself about the baby Jesus.

Howards End (the book)

Emelec beat Delfín to win the Ecuadorian championship. Barcelona failed to qualify for next year’s Copa Libertadores.

The Oakland Raiders, whom I’ve been casually following this season, came within inches of scoring the touchdown that would’ve kept their playoff hopes alive. Rather than score, they did this.

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The good news is that my health is much restored. My cold lingers but no longer pains me. I’ve been resting at home, drinking water and tea and dosing myself with Mucinex.

Karin, who’s been tending to me, is a little sicker now.

Last Friday night, we went to a birthday party for my dear grandpa (his ninetieth).

Today, the air was rather warm, and I walked for half an hour by the river. I wore a coat that one of my fellow tutors gave to me on the last day of the term.

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My newest reading project is Howards End by E.M. Forster. This is the book of the Wilcoxes vs. the Schlegels: the materialistic English vs. the romantic “German” English. The book also depicts a few representatives of the hapless English poor, whose role is to be the grass trampled upon by the two warring upper-class factions.

Snow

… has begun falling upon South Bend. A good few inches have stacked up. Trucks plow and salt the roads. When I go out walking, I wear two tattered, hooded sweatshirts – I’ve outgrown my winter coat.

It feels as if winter has been here all along.

Xmas gifts have been arriving through the post. I thank whoever sends them (my siblings and I are using the “Secret Santa” method). I, too, have been ordering gifts for my designated beneficiary.

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I congratulated Edoarda & Stephen for staying at home the last few wintry days. Stephen, who’s just had his wisdom teeth removed, alternates between viewing the TV, sleeping, and throwing up. Edoarda watches over him.

Karin & I visited E&S last night. We viewed the episode of The Office in which Steve Carell spanks his jackass of a nephew. That justice of that scene was most pleasing.

At my own office, the year is slowly, strenuously concluding. Yesterday, one tutee asked me to proofread seven pages – hardly an unusual request. But the next tutee brought in 14 pages, and then a third brought in 28 pages, single-spaced. Her expectations were too high. Each tutoring session should require 30 minutes or less. (And, besides, we tutors aren’t supposed to proofread – we’re obliged only to explain “patterns of error.”)

I suppose there are moments in every job when the worker questions the wisdom of his industry. I was far beyond that stage. I only wanted the suffering to end, and it did, several hours later.

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Paolo Guerrero’s ban for taking cocaine has been extended until November of next year. Peru will miss him in the World Cup.

Meanwhile, the ban upon Emelec’s stadium has been rescinded (alas). What’s more, Ecuadorian TV companies have been forbidden from broadcasting the domestic finals – I’m not sure why – and the referees are threatening to strike for past-due wages.

Fire

The Ecuadorian soccer schedue is winding down. Barcelona can no longer win the domestic league. The team still aims to qualify for next year’s Copa Libertadores.

The league title will be disputed between heroic Delfín, of Manabí Province, and dastardly Emelec. The final round consists of a two-game, home-and-away series. Emelec will be forced to stage its “home” game away from its own stadium due to an earlier misdeed (some Emelec fans burst open a water-filled plastic bag upon the manager of an opposing team).

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It’s the week before IUSB’s final exams, and tutoring is extended two hours later than usual – well into the night. I’ve been scheduled to work during most of these lonely hours. Karin sat with me tonight and pasted things into her animal sticker book.

I’m still reading the Inferno. All along, I’ve been having trouble visualizing hell. But these pictures of the wildfires in Ventura County, California, are helping a great deal.

(Thanks, Creighton P., for sharing the photos, which were published by the L.A. Times.)

Some archival material

Karin & I have begun eating a diet mainly of beans. Thanksgiving week, we ate three meals at Karin’s grandpa’s house: turkey, once; Dominican food, twice. Señora Máxima cooked the two Dominican meals.

I talked a good while with sra. Máxima about Bosch and Balaguer, ex-presidents of the Dominican Republic.

In Cuba, yesterday, Fidel Castro died.

My Uncle Tim brought over to Mary’s house several boxes of letters written by my father during his missionary career. Uncle Tim wants to put this material into the denominational archives. “A treasure trove for future historians of the Missionary Church,” was how he put it. The three children of my father’s who were present (I, Mary, and Stephen; David was out of town) each glanced through the letters for mentions of themselves. I found a booklet – Animales en peligro, or Animals In Danger – that I must have written and illustrated in the second grade.

“People hunt leopards for their skin” (para su piel), the booklet said.

“Elephants are hunted for their tusks.”

“Some animals are hunted by other animals.”

“Some endangered animals are not in danger of being hunted. Fish are in danger of swimming in poisoned waters.” (The illustration for this caption showed a fish swimming above a bottle of poison on the riverbed.)

Tonight, with Stephen, I watched Barcelona take on Emelec, hoping that B.S.C. would clinch this year’s title. Due to the refereeing, this did not occur. To clinch the title, B.S.C. will have to win one of the two remaining games.

The brave persons

Independiente are the best or the second-best team in South America, but not the best team in Ecuador. Last weekend my own team, Barcelona S.C., clinched the top place for the first half of the season in the domestic league. This means that at the end of the year, in the grand finale, we’ll play against the champions of the second half of the season (or, if we are the second-half champions, we’ll win the league by default).

“It’s for brave persons,” said our goalie, Máximo Banguera. “I am a warrior and I want it to be known that [here] is a warrior.”

Also:

“When we lost the Clásico del Astillero” – the game against the leaders, Emelec – “many mediocre persons gave us up as finished, but this was a time for brave persons and not for mediocre persons.”

Count me among the mediocre persons. I didn’t think we’d catch up to Emelec. But I’m glad that the games were played by the brave persons and not by the mediocre ones; that B.S.C. recovered to win its last six games; and that down the stretch Emelec stumbled just enough to be overtaken.

Tomorrow night IDV and Atlético Nacional will play the last game of the Copa Libertadores.

National unity

Aftershocks, 6.0 on the Richter Scale, several days following the first quake.

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Solidarity among Ecuadorians, regarding the Copa Libertadores. Emelec are out; Liga de Quito are out; only Independiente del Valle remain to play the eighthfinals. Their opponents will be River Plate.

The home leg will be held on Thursday in the Estadio Atahualpa (the Rumiñahui, Independiente’s usual venue, seats just 8,000). Entrance fees: $5, $10, or $20. All proceeds, to the quake victims.

Non-Independiente fans are welcome.

“Come with the Ecuador shirt,” announces Independiente’s president. “Or come with the shirt of your own team.”

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In the U.S., the good news is, Andrew Jackson is getting banished from the $20 bill. His replacement will be Harriet Tubman.

What image will be used? Maybe one of these. Probably not this one –

– though these freedom lovers make a fine point:

Who would have thought that after more than a year of debate, speculation, and politically correct public demand, America would learn that a God-loving, gun-toting Republican woman would earn a spot on our nation’s currency?

Yes, this change is something that even Republicans can believe in. E pluribus unum. There is an overlapping consensus on the honoring of Harriet Tubman.

Winners & losers

Well, we tried, but the contest was settled when we lost two important players. El Chivo Suárez collapsed a few seconds after the kickoff. He received treatment and hobbled up and down the field but had to be subbed out before halftime. Worse, between the minutes 5 and 10, two yellow cards accrued to Álex Bolaños. … Emelec pressed hard; got a first-half goal; waited for us to tire out; and, near the end, put in two more goals. So it was easy for them, but anyway they were the better team.

The President of Ecuador, Rafael Correa, celebrated with Emelec at the Parrilla del Ñato.

Antonio Noboa, our team president, tweeted out some venom against Bolaños.

I viewed the match at Sabby’s house. The male Sabby loyally sat next to me and played a bridge-building game on his new smartphone. Sadly, his bridges kept on collapsing, and his ponies kept on falling into the gorge.

It’s dire

— not because of last night’s result (1 to 1) but because we were outplayed. During the first half we barely could string three or four passes together. Emelec were ballet-dancing around us. Here is some apt analysis. This link is for a video of the entire game. Emelec’s goal arrives around this time, easy-peasy, and this is our gritty equalizer.

As I said, Leg Two will be played on Sunday. The order of the tiebreakers: (1) total goals; (2) away goals; (3) penales.

I’m old enough now, I don’t feel anxious so much as resigned.

I’ll miss Stephen. We won’t see the second game together: today he went to Nicaragua with his girlfriend.

December fragments

My little cousin posted this:

“Just to give an idea of how many books can fit
in my small bedroom. This is all thanks to my
dad who basically gives me a new book every day.”
‪#‎itsanerdelthing‬ ‪#‎youshouldseehisbookcollection‬

I feel so proud.

Announcement !!!

What: Leg One of the Ecuadorian soccer championship.

Where: Estadio Monumental Banco Pichincha, Guayaquil.

When: Wednesday (tomorrow) at 8:00pm, U.S. Eastern Time.

The cheapest tickets cost $25. This is the priciest B.S.C. game I’ve heard of. On behalf of the chusma, I’m indignant.

I don’t have a TV link to offer you. Please google “Barcelona Emelec en vivo,” and then cheer for the yellow team.

Leg Two will be played on Sunday.

Today after work I walked home in a pleasant, light rain. The park that I walked through could’ve been muddier; the alley could’ve had more puddles — I wouldn’t have minded. On the street, two different motorists flipped me off, which I enjoyed. (This is how it feels to recover from depression.) When I got home, I asked Mary to light a fire for me, and I dried my socks; she told me it would’ve been easier if I’d put them in the drying machine. Here is a nice video of some people making out.

Fifteen years later

A couple of weeks ago I said my team would end its title drought. And now it has. Last night, Deportivo Quito defeated Emelec, ensuring that Barcelona would finish in first place.

All around Ecuador, thousands (millions?) of barcelonistas took to the streets.

My parents, gleeful:

In South Bend, Kenny and I took to McDonald’s.

Thirty-one

Yesterday I turned thirty-one. Loved ones gave me lunch and supper; on Facebook, the commentators were effusive. So I’ve no complaints.

But the previous day, Sunday, was the spectacular one. I played soccer for the first time in a month. I ran tirelessly and scored five golazos. (So what if most of my opponents were approx. twelve years old.)

Meanwhile, in Ecuador, Barcelona were thrashing Emelec, 5 to 0. This is the year we’ll end our title drought.

Some thoughts about turning thirty-one:

(i) My experience is vast.

(ii) I wish I owned more books. I don’t own as many as my parents did at thirty-one. The other day, my brother Stephen told me in all seriousness, “John-Paul, you really don’t own very many books.”

(iii) I look younger than I did last year. Or, at least, more youthful.

(iv) I’m as idealistic as ever. (This is evident from my recent blog posts.) Barring some Phineas Gage disaster or weird chemical influence, that quality will never, ever change.

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Kenny wants me to tell you that his Xanga is currently unavailable because he’s hiding. He’s been offered a new job, and wants to appear squeaky-clean on the Internet for a while.

Kenny, I love you, but we are not alike. I will never try to appear squeaky-clean.

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I wish I could trust someone who wanted to be President of the United States.

[Kelly Oxford]