Did they win or something? (Argentina - Part 2)

There is no joy like that of a Latino sports fanatic. Football is life in Argentina, and I happened to be here during the World Cup, which meant the logistics of getting around proved to be tricky.

Anytime a game was on, the city shut down. Stores locked their doors, restaurants closed, taxis weren’t driving. My airbnb warned me to get to the airport hours in advance because it would be impossible to find a ride.

It was a ghost town.

That is, until Argentina scored - then you could hear the cheers erupting from everywhere behind half-closed doors.

During the final game, I was in transit between Ushuaia and El Calafate. To be honest I was surprised the country didn’t ground all flights. Even the airport had a captive audience. People brought megaphones and noisemakers - don’t ask me how that passes security and yet I get held up for a zip loc bag of protein powder and a small container of creatine.

After the plane and a bus transfer I got to the little mountain town of El Chalten in Patagonia. By this time I lost cell connectivity - winds are notorious in Patagonia so the signal is spotty, plus I’m on a budget plan of paying per MB.

I didn’t need internet access to figure out the score.

It appeared they won.

A lovely bunch of Messis all standing in a row - big ones, small ones, old ones, young ones. Tall, short, wide, narrow, male, female, nonbinary. Black, brown, white, and everything in between.

No other jerseys existed, which made me wonder if it's a common topic the other players on the national team discuss with their therapists.

People crying, hugging, jumping, honking, singing, dancing in the streets. Like each of them just won $100 million, world hunger was cured, the Middle East found everlasting peace, and they were going to live forever.

The party went all night. The crowd would congregate at one end of the town, hang around, sing, and jump up and down. Then they would parade down the main street in the town until they reached a dead end on the other side. They would hang around for 5 minutes - singing and dancing and honking.

And then they would parade down, back to the other end of town.

All night long.

It was contagious - and even if you’re the Grinch, dare you to watch this celebration and not smile.