Pacho vs. Piero

Happy birthday to Mary.

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Some old-ish news:

For the second straight year, an Ecuadorian will win the UEFA Champions League. Paris Saint-Germain (the holders) and Arsenal will contest the final. Willian Pacho plays for PSG, and Piero Hincapié plays for Arsenal.

Both play for the national team, and they used to be teammates at Independiente del Valle.

I don’t care which club wins the Champions League. Arsenal once were purists; now they’re pragmatists. PSG are delightful to watch, but one can muster only so much enthusiasm for a propaganda arm of the Qatari state.

What about the players? Should I cheer more for Pacho or for Piero? Pacho won last year, and Piero hasn’t won. (Advantage: Piero.) But Pacho is likelier to play more minutes. (Advantage: Pacho.)

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Recent news:

CR7’s club failed to clinch the Saudi league title because of this very late “own” goal:

War plans; an inauspicious debut

From The Atlantic. If you can access it, read it. It describes shocking security breaches, callous disregard for human life, reckless emoji use, etc. Also shocking (but not surprising) is the current administration’s hatred of … Europe. Someone should force the Vice President and his cronies to turn off their phones, sit still, and watch some alluring travel videos by Rick Steves. …

This has been the wildest news story of the week.

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I take it back. Wilder, if less consequential, was Ecuador’s decision to start 17-year-old Darwin Guagua against Chile tonight. The boy hadn’t even debuted at the senior level for Independiente del Valle, his club.

The soccer federation appears to be trying to show off young Ecuadorian players so that European clubs will buy them. Federation officials probably are cutting backroom deals with local clubs and then pressuring the national team’s coach to field certain players.

Guagua had been about to enter Friday’s game as a late substitute. But when the Venezuelans scored, our coach, Sebastián Beccacece, left him on the bench. So, tonight, Guagua got to start. (I doubt it was what Beccacece wanted.)

The Chileans ate Guagua alive. We effectively ceded our left flank to them for half of the game.

Apart from that, our performance was … good. Kind of awesome. Unbalanced though we were, we contained the Chileans until halftime and dominated them afterward. The result was a goalless draw. Enner put the ball into the net but was narrowly offside.

We remain in second place. No other team gained ground on us this week, except Argentina.

Incidentally, guagua, in the indigenous languages of the Andes, means baby.

Body-text fonts, pt. 22: Caslon no. 540

“Colorado Supreme Court Disqualifies Trump from State’s 2024 Ballot.”

Another in a long list of amazing yet ho-hum headlines about Donald Trump.

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Congrats, again, to Alexander Domínguez for carrying Liga de Quito to a championship – this time, in the domestic league. He stopped two spot kicks in Liga’s shootout victory over Independiente del Valle.

The prodigy Kendry Páez scored IDV’s goal.

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At least four parties to go, and I’m already Christmas-partied out. The partying hasn’t been bad, but the gorging has been. For the first time in years, I’m repulsed by the prospect of eating cookies and potato chips.

Come to think of it, I ate cookies and potato chips today. At home.

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There are thinner and fatter Caslons; of the fatties, my favorite is Caslon no. 540.

The italics are … dramatic. Good for occasional emphasis; bad in bibliographies.

The dubiously named QualiType Caslan is a serviceably priced (i.e. free) imitation of this typeface.

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.

The sports

Yesterday, Samuel and I viewed the best match of the last two or three years: Atlético de Madrid’s victory, in extra time, over title holders Liverpool in the UEFA Champions League’s round of 16. As brilliant as last year’s semifinals were, this game was superior – at least in terms of the overall quality of play. Both teams did what they do well. Both were fairly successful. The Liverpudlians attacked ferociously, the Colchoneros defended, and Jan Oblak was a monster at blocking shots. The Liverpudlians slowly clawed their way into the lead. But then the series was turned around by substitutes who scored three crisp goals. Thrilling, heady stuff.

I happened to watch this game rather than others because it was held in a stadium with fans. To contain the new coronavirus, fans were kept outside of other games played at the same time.

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Rumbo a la gloria eterna said the arch over the players entering the field of the Copa Libertadores Group A match between Independiente del Valle and Junior de Barranquilla. (This slogan, too, was in step with the coronavirus pandemic.) IDV won 3–0 with cracking goals, what Argentinian commentators call goles de altura – goals characteristic of the altitude.

My own team, Barcelona, lost 3–0 at title holders Flamengo. Elimination stares us in the face.

Independiente del Valle 3, Colón de Santa Fe 1

A great triumph for Ecuador: Independiente del Valle, the modest but well-run club of Sangolquí, defeated Colón of Santa Fe, Argentina, in the final of the Copa Sudamericana – the continent’s most important club competition after the Copa Libertadores. (Independiente also played in the Copa Libertadores final of 2016.) Today’s match occurred in a “neutral” venue in Asunción, Paraguay, which of course was filled with Colón supporters. No matter: a deluge stymied the Argentinian players, while the Ecuadorians dribbled and passed expertly through the puddles. Independiente also blocked a penalty kick.

In Texas, Ada watched the game:

In South Bend, Samuel and Karin slept through the game:

Three important victories

These last few nights have been good ones for Ecuadorian soccer.

On Thursday night, in Riobamba, our sub-20 team defeated Paraguay to advance to the second round of the South American championship, of which we are the hosts.

Our second goal was a golazo. Our first was narrowly offside, but no less valuable – without it, our qualification would have depended upon the infamous Drawing of Lots.

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In Guayaquil last night, Barcelona staged the Noche Amarilla, the season-starting gala. They played against Juan Aurich of Peru.

Last year, Barcelona’s “guest” player at this gala was the aged Ronaldinho of Brazil. This year it was the aged Uruguayan, Diego Forlán, the best player of the 2010 World Cup. Forlán put on a show, contributing to all three of Barcelona’s goals.

All night, the spectators were fervid. They ignited flares and fireworks. They unfurled a banner with this homage to Barcelona:

HAS NACIDO HUMILDE Y
ERES MÁS GRANDE QUE EL SOL

Meanwhile, a smaller but no less dense crowd was gathered in Sangolquí. Last year’s Libertadores runners-up, Independiente del Valle, were playing in the pre-group stage of that tourney against a Peruvian team, Municipal. When I turned to the YouTube broadcast, IDV were losing. “So much for Independiente this year,” I thought. Then, valiantly, IDV scored in injury time. The Ecuadorians jumped up and down. The Peruvians, disqualified, slumped on the field.

A tragedy

The day’s sad news is the plane crash in Colombia that killed most of the players and coaches of Chapecoense, a modest team from southern Brazil. Like Independiente del Valle, the darlings of the previous major South American tourney, Chapecoense had bested expectations and qualified to play in a continental final (this time, the final of the Copa Sudamericana) against Atlético Nacional of Medellín. Indeed, the crash occurred near to that city, where the final’s first leg was to have been held.

Atlético Nacional have requested that Chapecoense be awarded the title.

Leg 2; “Esio Trot”; Brown City Camp; a new job

IDV lost 1–0 to Atlético Nacional, which was respectable enough to attract some more kudos from the continental and global journalists.

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Last night Karin & I drove to Brown City Camp, a church camp in eastern Michigan where Karin’s mother has a cabin (she’ll soon join us, along with Karin’s little sister, Brianna). The trip was tedious. I perked up when we got near to Lansing and Flint, which I wanted to see a bit of, but we zoomed past those cities. We listened to novellas and short stories by Roald Dahl: Fantastic Mr. Fox; “The Enormous Crocodile”; and a cynical piece called “Esio Trot,” which I’d never heard of. This story was brutal even by Dahlian standards. I think even Dahl must have felt uneasy about it, because he gave it a redemptive ending that was out of step with the rest of it. (I’m also reading The Stranger Beside Me, the opus of Ann Rule, about the serial killer Ted Bundy. “Esio Trot” is more unsettling.)

When we got to the camp it was close to midnight. Karin parked in the main lot, just outside of the front gate. Suddenly we were confronted by a golf cart driven by a feeble old man and a bored teen-aged boy. They were wearing bright green shirts that said “Security.”

“What are you doing here,” said the old man.

“We have a cabin here,” said Karin. “We just arrived from South Bend.”

“Oh, all right,” said the old man. “Let me open the gate for you so you can park nearer to your cabin.” The golf cart drove away.

“That was bizarre,” I said to Karin.

“It’s after curfew,” she explained.

As we went down to our cabin we passed two other “Security” golf carts, one driven by two old women, another by a middle-aged man and woman who were extremely fat. I figured that I could outrun any of these security guards.

(On the other hand, so many of these golf carts were creeping around in the middle of the night, I’d probably be caught no matter what.)

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Prof. Robby has asked me to teach a few Spanish courses at Bethel. So that’s what I expect to do this fall, along with my other two jobs. I’ve agreed to teach Elementary Spanish II and Intermediate Spanish.

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.

The final, leg 1 (Estadio Atahualpa)

For a long time last night I thought IDV would lose. Atlético Nacional were leading; they were imposing their rhythm; they seemed the better team. Very late, though, Arturo Mina poked a rebounded ball into the goal, and the game ended 1 to 1. Because the away-goals rule is disregarded in the final, the slate is clean for the decisive leg in Medellín.

The global press at last has caught on to IDV.

Goal.com says: “Move over Leicester and Iceland: Libertadores hopeful Independiente del Valle is true fairy tale of 2016.”

And here are some nice photos from Britain’s Daily Mail.

Semifinal, leg 2 (La Bombonera)

Last week our heroes, Independiente del Valle, defeated Boca Juniors in the home leg, 2–1: a decent result, but due to the away-goals rule hardly a safe one. (Having scored in Quito, Boca would be able to advance with a 1–0 victory in Buenos Aires.)

Fast-forward to Thursday night. Boca are in their own fabled stadium, the Bombonera, and they score quickly. But IDV score soon after. Now they’re helped by the away-goals rule. Should one other goal be scored by the visitors, the home team would be obliged to convert not two, but three more goals.

The Argentinians must send players forward; but also, for dear life, they must avoid being scored upon.

This tightrope is too daunting for Boca Juniors. They wilt like little flowers. Early in the second half, a long kick by IDV’s goalie is head-flicked, twice, and suddenly one of IDV’s flankers is in scoring position, running with the ball. There’s a lunge by one of Junior Mouth’s defenders, but it’s futile. In a lightning flash, IDV have seized a commanding lead.

Moments later, lightning strikes again. Boca’s goalie comes out too far, tries to pass to a teammate who’s too close to him, and watches another IDV speedster intercept the pass, go around him, and escort the ball into the net.

(At this point, the Junior Mouth fans turn against each other. Some try to leave. Others confront them, questioning their loyalty. There are blows.)

The home players don’t quite give up, but they hardly know what to do. Without much effort, IDV stymie them.

IDV concede a penalty kick – and block it.

One goal does arrive for Junior Mouth, at the very end. Three goals too few.

Bitter Argentinians discuss.

All of Ecuador is behind IDV as they prepare for the home leg of the final, to be played next Wednesday against Atlético Nacional of Medellín. Once more, the ticket sales will be donated to the quake victims.

(Thanks to Stephen for some of this information.)

Semifinals

In their Quito leg, Independiente del Valle defeat Boca Juniors, 2–1. The Goodness Gracious moment comes at the end of the first half. IDV’s goalkeeper appears to step completely into his own goal, carrying the ball with him. But there is no goal-line technology to denounce him.

The Buenos Aires leg will be played on the 14th.

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Germany’s semifinals, these last ten years:

0–2 vs. Italy, 2006;
3–2 vs. Turkey, 2008;
0–1 vs. Spain, 2010;
1–2 vs. Italy, 2012;
7–1 vs. Brazil, 2014.

Not one drab contest among them.

This year’s semi against the French is, I think, hands-down the best game of these Euros. The Germans play artfully, airily, especially in the first period. But it is “Little Prince” Griezmann who puts in the goals.

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On a tip from Karin (by request of Karin, with Karin), I am watching Holes, a wonderful, strange movie about children forced to dig holes, for their own moral good.

On a tip from Coetzee, I am reading and re-reading “Death Fugue”:

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening / we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night / we drink and we drink / we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped / A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes / he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Marguerite / he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling / he whistles his hounds to come close / he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground / he orders us strike up and play for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening / we drink and we drink / A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes / he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margeurite / your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped / He shouts jab this earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play / he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue / jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening / we drink and we drink / a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margeurite / your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays with his vipers / He shouts play death more sweetly Death is a master from Deutschland / he shouts scrape your strings darker you’ll rise then in smoke to the sky / you’ll have a grave then in the clouds there you won’t lie too cramped

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland / we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink / this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue / he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true / a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete / he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air / he plays with his vipers and daydreams / der Tod is ein Meister aus Deutschland / dein goldenes Haar Margarete / dein aschenes Haar Shulamith

Copa América USA

After the first few games, this sad announcement: “United States May Become Permanent Host of Copa América.” The idea is to merge the Copa América and the Gold Cup, following the blueprint of the latter. (I’ve also seen this news in the Ecuadorian press.)

So much for the CONMEBOL’s policy of giving each country its turn to host the tournament.

So much for the poor citizen of Ecuador or Bolivia or Brazil who’d never travel to the United States – who would attend the tourney in his homeland, or who’d at least partake in the festivities in his homeland. “Hosting doesn’t make you rich,” say the authors of the book Soccernomics, “but it does make you happier.” When the games are at home, what the people gain is “a sense of belonging” – and sometimes, literally, “a lifesaver” (the local suicide rate goes down; so does depression).

I remember the 1993 Copa América in Ecuador. We weren’t very good at soccer, but the country rallied together and the players gave decent performances and improved their self-belief. This was crucial for our team’s development.

But because the CONCACAF’s Gold Cup is always held in the United States, there’s no prospect of such a boost for nations like El Salvador or Haiti. The Gold Cup is a charade, not a bona fide contest. The Copa América and the Euros and the Africa Cup of Nations may’ve had their injustices; but, to their credit, they’ve been staged in such humble locations as Paraguay (1997) and Poland (2012), Angola (2010) and Burkina Faso (1998), Gabon (2012) and tiny Equatorial Guinea (2012, 2015).

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What should the gringos expect to gain from becoming the perpetual gatekeepers? Only money.

For gringos, soccer doesn’t matter to national identity. They have nothing like the wholehearted consensus about this sport that exists in other countries. The gringos would never put aside their domestic differences for soccer’s sake.

Nor have they shown that they wish to commune with other nations over soccer. They’ve been invited to the Copa América every time since 1993, but they haven’t participated in it since 1995. [Correction, from Stephen: they participated in 2007.]

Nor are the gringos very concerned with being hospitable. Never mind that they might make Donald Trump their president: they don’t care enough to use the correct spelling of “Colombia.”

They don’t care enough to play the other countries’ anthems properly. So far, in this tourney, they’ve played Chile’s anthem instead of Uruguay’s, and they’ve cut off Chile’s anthem prematurely. They’ve shown disrespect for the national identities that make these games so meaningful for South Americans.

In Ecuador, Independiente del Valle, a modest club, is donating its ticket proceeds to Ecuadorians who were stricken by the recent earthquake.

In the United States, the rich have no qualms about scheming to take away a comforting tradition from the people who live in South America.

There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor.

The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds:

But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. …

The wedding; the honeymoon; Independiente del Valle

Amazing, how when a task is so carefully rehearsed, its execution is so simple. There were next-to-no problems during the wedding. Apparently one of Karin’s cousins showed up drunk, but he behaved himself. Slightly more annoying was one of Karin’s great-uncles, who, as he congratulated me, told me to keep my wife in line by beating her. “No, no, no,” I said. Then, during the reception, he accosted me a few more times and made other bizarre remarks.

“My mom detests that guy,” Karin told me. “And guess what his job is? He’s a pastor!”

Apart from that horrid person, all the guests were lovely, and the officiants and maids and men performed their duties, and many other people helped out in small ways so that Karin & I had only to say our vows and to receive our greetings.

Then we went home and ate Chinese food.

The next day we rode the train to Chicago. The day after that, we got up at 2:30 in the morning, trudged to the airport, and flew to Salt Lake City. The young man who sat next to us was determined not to acknowledge us. I offered to buy him a drink, but he kept his face glued to the window. He reminded me of Charlie Brown’s tentmate (click to enlarge):

In Salt Lake City, the air was a little thin. “Mountains!” Karin said, astonished. “One sees them in pictures, but look, those are really there!” Indeed, the scenery was stunning all during our drive to Southern Utah, to the national parks. (Later I’ll discuss that trip in greater detail.)

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Independiente del Valle have qualified for the semifinals of the Copa Libertadores. Here is their penalty shootout.

India

I had to buy a certain cheap-looking DVD for the high school Social Studies Dept. The back cover says:

Discover the enchanting and vibrant land of India and its people. INDIA – ONE COUNTRY, A MILLION WORLDS lets you explore ancient civilizations, phenomenal architecture and brings you up-close to India’s dynamic and diverse culture. Learn of India’s past and present, including Mahatma Ghandi’s struggle for India’s freedom and present day city life including customs and religious ceremonies. Everything from India’s geography and climate to present political formation is all here in INDIA – ONE COUNTRY, A MILLION WORLDS.
Running Time: 24 Minutes.

My Juan Bosch paper, which was due last Sunday, is nearly, but not completely, written. (I have excuses, but surely no one wants to hear them.) The teacher is breathing down my neck just a little. My loved ones are breathing down it quite a lot more. I want to curl up in a dark, small room so that I can watch Law and Order: Special Victims Unit in peace.

I do allow myself to check the soccer scores. Leicester City have won the English Premier League title, shocking the world. Atlético de Madrid have eliminated Bayern Munich from the Champions League. Independiente del Valle have eliminated River Plate from the Copa Libertadores.

Rumor has it, David has arrived from Houston, two weeks before the wedding.

Independiente vs. River; Atlético vs. Barcelona; Atlético vs. Bayern

I don’t know if Independiente del Valle even have 30,000 supporters; but last night the Estadio Atahualpa was full, and its crowd wore blue and black. The game itself lacked luster. Though Independiente hardly were breathtaking, River Plate, the defending champions, were cautious in the altitude.

Independiente’s goals came in the last half-hour.

Two goals to zero is a good home-leg result. In the second leg, River must again be cautious: receiving just one goal obliges them to tally four.

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Atlético de Madrid must surely be the world’s toughest team to play against. Every touch of the ball is, for them, a matter of life or death. And not only are they gritty; not only do they close up shop in front of the goal; they can be rather brilliant, too.

Lately, their astounding player has been the midfielder Saúl Ñíguez. See his outer-footed cross, to Antoine Griezmann, versus Barcelona; see his personal wonder-goal versus Bayern Munich.

See also Fernando Torres’s near miss.

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.