Spain against the inexplicable

The president of Argentina, Javier Milei, will not attend the final live in New York due to superstition. He has confirmed that so far he has watched all the World Cup matches at Las Oliveras (his presidential residence) with his sister and that he will continue to do so. When I read the news, I remembered an acquaintance from the neighborhood, a very nice guy who has an old dog named Lola, and who last Wednesday before the semi-final match against England, and in the middle of the heatwave, they were walking at noon with the Argentina jersey on, him and the dog. When I commented that poor Lola, that she was roasting, he said: “It’s for superstition.” “Ah, okay! Then I won’t say anything,” I replied.

The acquaintance, poor Lola, and Milei are not the only ones. I have an old friend who, back in the Qatar World Cup, used to tell me all the rituals he performed before each match. Since they won, he is repeating them now and is convinced that's why they are in the final again. Among other things, he watches the matches accompanied by a friend of his, an Argentine like him, both alone, sitting in the same place and without speaking. And they have to arrive at the apartment half an hour before the match begins. He has even refused to let his partner of 10 years, a Catalan, come near the apartment when the albiceleste plays. I could go on because I know quite a few Argentinians who have been living for a month subject to the World Cup and their quirks. It’s not the football. It’s not Messi, nor Lautaro, nor Tuchel's tactical suicide. It is they who with their superstitions have brought Argentina to the final. A piece of advice: do not try to reason with them.

The Spanish national team is not only facing a potentially tough match this Sunday because the Argentinians will try to break its rhythm, nor a Leo who is writing one of the most beautiful pages in his last World Cup, nor his teammates who adore and idolize him and sing “for the Malvinas, for Diego, for Leo’s last hurrah”. They are facing superstitions, a whole country that lives football with excessive emotion and passion. To counteract them, I will just say that a Spanish friend, from Alcorcon to be precise, nervous watching Portugal’s match, started cleaning the bathroom and scored Merino. She repeated the ritual against Belgium and France, and by now even the tiles are shining. Of course, on Sunday for the final, she plans to go over them again. Oh! And may the best team win.