Argentina fighting for a moment of light
June 7, 2002
A win tomorrow could take minds at home off the economic crisis, writes Richard Williams
The Guardian
On the face of it the footballers of Argentina, as they make their preparations in Japan's National Training Centre, a two-hour train ride north of Tokyo, resemble any other World Cup squad. They sleep, they spend time in the massage room and they go to the training pitch to work on routines under the guidance of their coach, Marcelo Bielsa.
Their morale does not seem to have been affected by the loss of their captain, Roberto Ayala, to a thigh strain suffered in the warm-up before the Nigeria match last Saturday. In Ayala's absence Argentina worked their way to a convincing win over the African team. As they run smoothly and powerfully through their exercises in Hirono they convey the impression of a confident squad whose members are at ease with one another.
"We achieved what all Argentines were expecting of us," Juan Pablo Sorin, the wing-back who plays for Cruzeiro in Brazil, said, reflecting on their opening match. "And it was a demonstration of the unity we have in the squad."
Bielsa remarked on the tranquil mood among his players. "Winning always brings peace," he said, "There was nothing in the match against Nigeria that particularly worried me. I was pleased with the collective performance. The perfor mance of individuals was generally all right, too, but we're looking for the highest possible level from everyone."
When they meet England in Sapporo tomorrow, however, Argentina and their opponents will be playing the same game with very different imperatives. While England will be trying to redeem their faltering start to the World Cup, the South American team will be playing to lift the collapsed spirits of a nation.
Sense of shame
Buenos Aires, where two thirds of the Argentina squad played before leaving for European clubs, is one of the most beautiful and exhilarating cities on earth but the recent economic crisis has turned it into a war zone. Ordinary citizens riot outside banks whose doors have been locked. Unemployment stands at around 20%. Murderous carjackings and kidnappings occur on a daily basis.
Conversations with Argentinians about football tend to evolve naturally into a discussion of the devastated economy. The peso, worth one US dollar three months ago, is now worth 35 cents -if you can get your money out of the bank, that is. People are travelling to Paraguay, Uruguay and Bolivia in search of jobs - "Bolivia!" a football reporter from Buenos Aires exclaimed yesterday. "Once upon a time the Bolivians and the Paraguayans came to our country looking for work."
Football is not insulated from the anxiety and the sense of shame. Just as big companies have been financially drained by unseen forces, so football clubs have been mysteriously impoverished. River Plate, long ago nicknamed Los Millonarios, are currently $30m (£20.6m) in debt - an astonishing state of affairs for a club benefiting in recent years from the lucrative sale of Ayala, Sorin, Ariel Ortega, Pablo Aimar, Javier Saviola, Diego Placente, Matias Almeyda, Marcelo Gallardo and Hernan Crespo.
"People poor, football rich," another journalist interjected, but he meant rich in talent. There are a couple of dozen young players in Argentina, he said, who are ready to make an international impact. Some of them are among the 15 members of the national under-20 squad who have accompanied the seniors to Japan, taking part in their training sessions, sometimes under instruction from Bielsa to mimic the approach of Argentina's next opponents.
A victory over the English would certainly cheer up the nation, even if it would not put bread on their tables or keep the carjackers at bay. That is the special ingredient of this match, though in football terms, as Claudio Caniggia observed this week, it falls short of Argentina versus Brazil. "That's the biggest match, the true clasico ," he said.
But why should the country of Borges and Piazzolla and the nation of Shakespeare and the Beatles find it so easy to dislike and distrust each other? The poisoned rivalry goes back beyond David Beckham's dismissal four years ago (and the Argentinians' alleged taunting of their defeated opponents), beyond the Hand of God goal, beyond the stupid little war in the South Atlantic, beyond the bitter, brutal matches between Manchester United and Estudiantes de la Plata in the late 60s, beyond Antonio Rattin's expulsion at Wembley in 1966, and into some strange and volatile chemistry between two peoples who share many bloodlines but are divided by crucial distinctions of temperament.
The Third Way
"It's certainly no ordinary game," Kily Gonzalez, the Valencia forward who is likely to replace Claudio Lopez in tomorrow's starting line-up, said. "Neither team will want to lose a match like this one. We'll have to approach it with cool heads and burning hearts."
Finding the right combination of ingredients has not always been easy for Argentinian football, which was locked for the best part of 20 years in a battle between the followers of Cesar Luis Menotti, the chainsmoking coach of the 1978 champions, an admirer of flair and flamboyance, and those of Carlos Bilardo, the former Estudiantes hatchetman whose less romantic approach brought the squad a second title in Mexico in 1986. Bilardo was succeeded by Daniel Passarella, who showed similar instincts by refusing to pick players unless they had their hair cut.
Bielsa, brought in last year from Espanyol of Barcelona to replace Passarella, is a devotee of what Argentinians call the Third Way - a style blending technical refinement, a commitment to seeking victory from the opening whistle and unremitting physical urgency. A comparative unknown who had coached Newell's Old Boys and Velez Sarsfield before being lured to Spain, the 46-year-old Bielsa was rewarded with first place in the South American group.
Not all his decisions have been popular. Many regret his exclusion of Saviola, the brilliant 20-year-old forward now with Barcelona, and others would prefer to see Aimar, the light-footed 22-year-old Valencia playmaker, in the starting line-up ahead of the veteran Ortega. In general, however, there has been approval for the way he has encouraged such men as Sorin, Placente and Javier Zanetti to set a high tempo, hustling opponents while making space for Juan Sebastian Veron to spread passes at his leisure.
"I haven't had a good season in Manchester," Veron said this week. "Of course I dream about doing something remarkable. But, if I don't play well and Argentina win, it's OK. This is a special match for Argentina's people as well. We are representing the country and we want them to feel proud of the Argentinian colours."
And therein lies England's challenge. All other factors being equal, which they may or may not be, how can a team playing essentially for personal pride and glory hope to match opponents with a far more profound agenda?
"Sure, it's a crucial match," Sorin said, adding an ominous note: "Maybe as much as all the others."
"We can't stop at the game against the English," Almeyda argued, trying to put it into a healthier perspective. "We came here to win the championship. But maybe our players will be fighting for the ball even harder than in other matches, although I suppose it shouldn't be like that. Anyhow, football is just a sport. We're not talking about war here."
If Argentina win, Aimar added, the people of his hometown - Rio Cuarto, in the state of Cordoba - will be dancing on the roofs of their houses. "Our people are suffering a lot and football isn't going to solve their problems. But we want them to be happy, for a couple of hours at least."