¡Vamos Argentina!

Remember that silly game called baseball that Americans seem to love so much? It is a sport followed by few (worldwide, anyway) and it divides a nation in as much as teams are supported by city, or at best a region. Remember the Red Sox winning the World Series? I´m not saying that is no big deal. But just hold in your mind how big a deal that was, and then pretend we´re talking about a sport that the rest of the world is fanatical about, and further pretend we are united as a nation-team, and imagine our national team is playing in the one-every-four-years Grandmama of all Superbowls. We´ll call this fútbol and we´ll call it the World Cup. Got the picture? Oh, I forgot to add just one little itty-bitty piece to this. You see, now that you have the backdrop, imagine your team has just beat Mexico in a tooth-to-tooth high-intensity overtime game. Everyone in the bar is on their feet, chanting national sport fight songs and cheering, waving blue-and-white flags, clapping, yelling. The bar empties as hundreds of absolutely thrilled fans (which is everyone, by the way) spill into the streets, the crowd grows, music blares, cars waving flags crawl through the masses, blaring horns and flashing lights. Cheering and waving and mosh-pit jumping appears as a pulsing wave of light blue and white excitement. Welcome to Argentina.