LOS ANGELES – Doom for Mexico always collapses eleven paces from glory. This Tuesday history confirms his recidivism in penalty shootouts. Brazil 4-1, after a squeezing, magnificent and almost painful process of almost 130 minutes. The 0-0 was a tribute to the Tri Olímpico and a headache for the Amazonians.
Like yesterday, like today, as always, Mexico came to her appointment in that white patch of all, and of her greatest and dark misfortunes. El Mudo Aguirre and Johan Vásquez fail. It is eliminated by Brazil with the genetic perfection of hitting with power and bristling the skin of the posts. The eternal Alves, Martinelli, Guimaraes and Reiner, surpass by one centimeter the successful shots of Guillermo Ochoa. If he hadn’t cut his nails …
Juan Carlos Osorio described it well: “Penalties in training sessions are a technical gesture, but, in matches, they are a spiritual gesture.” There, in the Kashima stadium, the soul escaped from Aguirre and Vásquez.
Defeat oozes – exudes – failure. Furthermore, failure has no nuances or consolations. Failure buries and banishes. But, there are those who survive. Fortunately, the brave do it, and sadly, also, the cynics.
It is said that failure does not make anyone a failure, but an apprentice to failure, who is the most efficient and most ruthless tutor. The Mexican teams, erudite on the subject, receive a new briefing.
True, Brazil was better in a game that lasted forever on the heavy legs of the Mexican players. The muscles and lungs always expire before the heart. Guillermo Ochoa had been the figure, while Luis Romo had that unmistakable stamp of being the best Mexican soccer player of the moment.
Diego Lainez? So much passion, dedication, rage and football, in that tiny container, in that rebellious and petite body. An ant that must contemplate that cicada that fled from Tokyo to lay down in Getafe. Yes, JJ Macías failed before everyone else.
Patient, harmonious, athletic, dense, devoted, focused, Brazil grappled with the Mexican cravings for heroism. Dani Alves swallows Chabelo brand eternity pills, and finishes the zacapela with humanity intact. He is the Dorian Gray of football.
I insist, the 0-0 that prevailed, which survived with that grimace of anguish to those almost 130 minutes, exalts Brazil more than Mexico, because the stubbornness and gallantry of the tricolor, further polishes the passage of the Amazonians to the Final of the Olympic Games.
Surely the blackboard of the strategies of this Olympic Tri belongs to Gerardo Martino, but to keep the flame alive, the competitive pride, when there are only ashes left in the physical and athletic bonfire of the players, you have to feel the fire of race, of blood, of the native, Jaime Lozano and Ochoa himself are in charge of that. In “juangabrielescas” rhetoric, the Gold Cup team lacked what the Olympian has more. Gonads, then, in glandular and anatomical terms.
The uneasiness and insomnia that the Tata Martino generated, the failed excursion in the Gold Cup, lessens them, softens them, which he has observed in the Olympics. Your hybrid will be in good health for the Concacaf Final Octagonal. In the Gold Cup, the medal was made of copper, in Tokyo, the hope is bronze for this bronze race, or La Raza Cósmica, the fifth race, according to José Vasconcelos.
A well-known history, then: from the 0-0 that exalts, that adorns, to the unfortunate doom from the stain of all the tragedies. In soccer, when Mexico scribbles fairy tales, the sinister synergy of all the wicked fates of its past appears. But, nothing is or nothing should be forever …