ARGENTINA v Ivory Coast
Argentina against Ivory Coast was a match to get excited about. One of the world’s undisputed, but unpredictable, heavyweights against the best team in Africa, a side on the ascendancy; both of them packed full of class players from the world’s top leagues. To add to the spice, there was a good chance that one of these top teams wouldn’t make it to the knock-out stages, since they were sharing a group with Holland.
So it was a bit of a shame that I could only see a tiny corner of the big screen and none of the action at all. In fact, I could barely move. I was squeezed into a boat on the Thames, packed full of Argentineans. It was a little bit scary, especially when the boat rocked from side to side or tilted worryingly (which was most of the time).
I was even more disconcerted to be told by a couple of charming Independiente fans that I was wearing the shirt of their hated rivals. I’d owned a Racing club shirt for several years, having been attracted to its similarity to the national shirt and the no-to-drugs-and-violence messages on its sleeves.
But now I was being told of a huge Buenos Aires club rivalry to which I’d been happily oblivious. “But it’s not as bad as Boca-River… is it?” I asked. “Well, yes, it is,” they cheerily informed me. “Is it dangerous for me to wear it?” “No, you’ll be alright; while Argentina are playing.”
I was slightly reassured, but wondered what would happen if, as was quite possible, Ivory Coast beat Argentina. I’d experienced Scottish club rivalries rearing their ugly heads after ignominious World Cup defeat, my mate’s Rangers-supporting granddad refusing “to share a taxi with any f**king Celtic fan,” and was hoping for a fine Argentine performance. For my own safety.
But there can’t be that many Independiente fans on this boat I thought, assuming that most Argentineans support Boca or River. But then another charming gent smiled at me while making some sort of derogatory reference to Racing and I wondered if I was going to end up in the river.
The atmosphere below decks wasn’t helped when Argentina appeared to get the ball over the line, only for it to be ruled out. I think that’s what happened anyway; I couldn’t really see. So I decided to try my luck on one of the smaller screens elsewhere on the boat, where it was slightly less packed.
I found a screen that I could just about see, and began to realise what a good game I’d been missing. Both sides were playing some great stuff and when Argentina took the lead the crowd went wild, the boat rocked a little more, and the cheers were further magnified when a certain Diego Maradona appeared on screen, celebrating in the stands with the best of them.
And then they made it 2-0. The cheers grew louder, the boat rocked more, Diego appeared on the screen again and the cheers went up again. Things were looking good for Argentina. And I was hopeful of making it home without an impromptu swim.
But in the second half Ivory Coast began to tear into Argentina, threatening to get back into the game, which they did when Didier Drogba made it 2-1, topping off an excellent team effort with a sharp finish.
Argentine nerves were fraying on the boat. Gasps greeted every Ivory Coast attack, of which there were many, but the Argentine defence was performing heroically.
The only people on the boat who didn’t seem desperate for the game to end were the English fans behind me calmly discussing how each player’s performance affected their dream teams. I couldn’t blame them; I have to admit I would usually be doing the same thing.
And then there were more celebrations as Argentina had the ball in the net for a third time, but it was ruled offside and the nerves returned as they counted down the minutes, hoping to hold onto the result that would put them in pole position in one of the groups of death.
As the minutes ticked away Diego appeared on the screen again, waving his flag around like a man possessed. Huge relief greeted the final whistle, the chants changed from “Diego, Diego!” to “Argentina, Argentina!” and a disco started.
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