Lionel Scaloni’s reaction when Argentina goes two goals down or ultimately wins the match sometimes leaves me speechless. It is a lesson in stoicism. And his muted, almost suspended expressions remind me of the infamous, oft-quoted Rudyard Kipling poem ‘If–’; particularly this bit:
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same
There has been no end to the number of articles I’ve been reading this whole week about Lionel Scaloni’s strategy — which involves a light mix of pragmatism, flexibility, effectively-timed substitutions, accompanied by an accurate reading of the game. Spain looks the dominant side in the approaching final — going by the verdict of sports writers — but if Argentina is to ever come on the top, it will all fall on one person — Lionel Messi. That’s both nerve-wracking and alluring for this hardcore fan, who first fell in love with Messi before becoming a Penya Blaugrana regular. That is why I pull no punches in stating that my loyalty is with the side that has Messi — La Albiceleste.
Nimish Dubey, the sports writer, likened the current Argentina side to Real Madrid, and Spain (La Roja!) to Manchester City. The resemblance is uncanny. The blue-and-white-jerseyed 2022 World Cup Champions are the comeback specialists in this tournament, often clinching victory in the dying minutes of a match from the jaws of defeat. If Argentina becomes the winner tonight, it will become the first team since Brazil in 1962 to win consecutive World Cups. Suffice it to say that the CBF’s offices will be smashed to pieces if this happens.
Meanwhile a new debate recently in football discourse has been whether the player of a team — who got knocked out of the tournament — but nevertheless scored the most number of goals deserves to win the Golden Boot. Last night, France played England in the losers’ final for third place, and though the former lost, Mbappe scored a brace that made him the all-time top scorer, surpassing Messi by two goals. I have not made up my mind on this subject yet. If Messi scores a brace tonight I might not bother having an opinion about it.
Some have been saying that this final mirrors in intensity to the Argentina-Italy semi-finals of 1990 in which the Argentines trounced Italy to advance to the finals (which they unfortunately lost to the then all-mighty — and perhaps last — West Germany side).
Spain and Argentina are not just tied by language and consequently cultural influences, but a long history, kept alive by immigration from both sides.
Spain colonised Argentina in the 1500s and the latter won back independence in 1816. Between 1880 and 1950 Argentina received waves of European immigrants, most of them Italian and Spanish, who were fleeing Europe due to rising poverty, landlessness and political instability. Most of southern Europe were agrarian at the time and land was becoming scarce due to overpopulation; crop failures could ravage livelihoods. Jewish pogroms stressed the continent further.
On the other hand, Argentina had vast tracts of fertile land that appealed to these foreigners. The country’s agricultural exports sector was booming at the time and demanded labour — which presented an opportunity for many unemployed Spaniards and Italians. The government actively encouraged European immigration by incentivising passage, keeping a lax immigration policy and providing other benefits. The Argentine thinker Juan Bautista Alberdi famously said “to govern is to populate.” Moreover, Argentina was culturally and linguistically closer for the Spaniards than the US. Much of Argentine Spanish, food, and culture (tango, pasta, ‘che’) show heavy traces of Italian influence.
One less favourable outcome of this immigration (to the modernist eye) was that Argentina quickly became a haven for some Nazi war criminals such as Eichman, Mengele under Juan Peron’s government.
Fast forward to the 21st century, the immigration pattern has reversed with many Argentines — most of whom have ancestral connections to Spain and hold dual passports — flocking to Spain and other European countries. Chronic economic instability drives this movement. Spain even has a special fast-track route that enables anyone hailing from Ibero-American countries and residing in Spain for two years or more, to claim citizenship. Madrid and Barcelona are hotspots, and the latter can boast of many neighbourhoods that feel like Buenos Aires. Argentina itself has tightened its immigration law, a reversal from its historical open-door policy.
So the meeting between Spain and Argentina in tonight’s final goes beyond the wondrous Messi-bathing-Yamal picture — which apparently was so mind-blowing that UNICEF had to step in to claim it’s real. It was captured by Joan Monfort, who didn’t realise the absurdity of it all back when he snapped it. It lay in his drawers, one among the many of the kind he had captured over the years — until recently, when Lamine Yamal burst into the limelight with his footballing prowess. His mother Sheila promptly produced the picture for the world to see — because this indeed was something legendary, like a fulfilling movie arc. So yes, coming back to our initial proposition: this final is between two eternally-linked nations by history, culture and football; by Lionel Messi — a meeting of the country whose blood he carries in his veins and the country where he felt himself, and danced, enthusing generations of Spaniards. He is the dear son of both Spain and Argentina. And that is why the final tonight is difficult — both for him, and the millions of ‘culers’ across the world.
Before we wind up I wish to quote two passages (the opening and closing, respectively) from Sid Lowe’s wonderful article on this beautiful battle:
“Maybe Lionel Messi has picked up lots of babies, maybe it’s chance, but for those of us who have faith, who believe in something beyond, ‘chance’ is God’s pseudonym when he doesn’t want to sign his name,” Luis de la Fuente says. “In life, everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it’s true that the circle isn’t closed, but in my view there’s something else, something … I don’t know, mystical, spiritual.”
And towards the end Lowe says:
Spain versus Argentina. European champions versus South American champions. Lionel Messi versus Lamine Yamal. The 19-year-old at his first World Cup, the age Messi was when they first met, versus the 39-year-old at his sixth and surely last. The teenager then who went on to mark a generation, now a father, against the teenager called to mark the next, his anointed one. The boy handed Messi’s No 10 like Messi was handed Maradona’s, the boy handed to him almost 20 years ago, unknown then, an icon now, the boy in the bath.
Whatever happens, Messi-and-InshaAllah. Adios, until next morning!
The Unsaturated Reader 
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