Mexico Ask Argentina: Where's The Beef?

It wasn't supposed to be anywhere near that hard. But it took 120 minutes of off-balanced, harassed, and usually shoddy football before the previously unbeatable-looking Argentina secured its 2-1 win over Mexico — and a berth in the quarter final round. But given that match will pit Argentina against the peaking Germans (who qualified earlier in the day with a 2-1 victory over Sweden), the Argentines had either better find the speed, precision, and unpredictable innovation that made them look so impressive during its group round matches — or else get ready to go home.

It was doubtless because Argentina had so appeared untouchable in its first three matches that Mexico decided its best hope was to come out swinging, land a few hard blows, and keep what would otherwise be a fleet and supple Argentina on its heels. The Mexicans pressed the South Americans hard, disrupted their passing game, and were so ready to mount an attack with any ball recovered you could actually hear what seemed like the same echoing voice resounding around the stadium warning, "they'll run out of gas by half time if they keep this up".

Instead, they scored: a free kick deviated by a Mexican head in the box to Mexican defender Rafael Marquez standing all by his lonesome in front of the far post. All he had to do was pump it home — and he did. One zip Meek, after just six minutes. Despite Mexico dominating play most of the match, Argentina did have flashes of its earlier brilliance — and scored on the very first glitter. On a corner nine minutes into play, a curving ball found Argentine striker Herman Crespo shoulder to shoulder with his Mexican marker, who had the advantage of being between Crespo and the incoming ball. To his woe, that still didn't prevent the ball from smashing into the net — due either to Crespo sneaking a foot under the armpit of his defender to tap the ball home, or the Mexican simply shouldering the ball in to his own cage by accident. In any case, Crespo gets the score; 1-1.

At this juncture it would be interesting to detail the steely strategies and manoeuvrings of both sides, but why tire our eyes? Essentially, the rest of the first half — and all the second period — involved Mexico knocking Argentina off its game, or the Argentines simple incapable of simply passing a ball to one another (thought their pass stats to Mexicans rivals was pretty damned impressive). Argentina, in other words, looked exactly like the teams it ran into the ground as rivals in its first three matches. And yet, Mexico still couldn't score, either. So this rather grinding game went into overtime, at which point the world got to see the best goal of this World Cup — followed by another 20 minutes of boredom.

Five minutes into the first extra time period, impossibly hirsute Argentine defender Juan Pablo Sorin stuck an arching pass from outside the left side of the penalty area to the same spot on the right, where team mate Maxi Rodriguez controlled the ball with his chest, back to the goal; waited for the resulting bounce to start coming down, and spin and kicked a volley shot that curved into the far side-corner of the cage. Even Mexican fans were too gob-smacked to be bummed. Argentina now up 2-1 (pass the blah blah about delay tactics. Good, Mexico scrambles to come back. Yatta yatta — Argentina mixes unreal bursts of speed and penetration with reversion to its utter inability of team mates five meters apart to pass to one another…)

And there you have it. Argentina is through, didn't deserve it based on tonight's game, but hey — hard cheese, ratso: that's how football works.

Meanwhile, even the final whistle blew in Leipzig Saturday, Argentines had a good reason to celebrate: the nation's severe economic slump is definitely over. It must be. Has to be. How else would the entire population of the country be able to afford flocking to Germany to urging its team on? The swath of land between downtown Leipzig and Zentralstadion to the west was absolutely lousy with these sky blue-and-white clad Argentina supporters — all of whom seem acutely (and noisily) aware of just how good their side is playing right now. "We own here!" shouted a happy fan who gave his name as Armando, a resident of Buenos Aires who obviously now also considers himself the master of "this place" as well. "Argentina, champion of world!".

The Boris Badinov diction notwithstanding ("Moose and squirel"), it was a bit tough to argue with Armando's general logic when he made those pre-match claims. After the way the Mexicans dominated them even as they lost, one has to think twice about where to lay money when host Germany takes Argentina on.

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