At the airport in Wroclaw, Gargagno bought a copy of an English newspaper. As we sat on the coach heading to the team hotel, he read aloud to me the news of unrest and rioting in England.
"You see bossio, in Europe many problems right now" I nodded in agreement, the news from England had troubled me. I had spent many years there as a young managerio, in a small wealthy riverside town. I remembered that the fans were fickle, that the only good restaurant in town had been forced to close, as it was deemed to bohemian and they all seemed to have these huge vehicles the size of a small pueblito with bright shiny silver wheels. There was also a huge supermercato there, with all of the finest fruits from Rio Grande flown in on a daily basis by private jets, no expense was spared to feed and water the folk of this town. It was a strange land indeed but i had made some magnifico friends there and my mama she found the climate there so conducive that she and my piccolo sisterio decided to stay. Where she set up a counselling practice for jaded Latino footballers struggling to come to terms with the vigours of English life. So with all this in mind England was a land whos new I liked to keep up to date with.
Gargagno continued to read the article, then gave me a grave look.
" The problem is bossio, they have abandoned the young, they feel foresaken and laden with problems created by the generation before them and now they burn things. Just like that reggae song fire inna Babylon"
I turned to him and said
"my grande amigo things are not as simple as they seem"
"yes they are" replied Gargagno "listen bossio, I am not saying what they did was right, the burning, the violence, the stealing but when people feel constantly ignored and overlooked they get angry and do things that are seen as morally wrong"
He leaned forward as if to infer a secret on me. " They are just repeating the example that has been set for them, by their government, by industry and big business, the only difference being that they lack the tools of subtlety and deception"
Gargagno seemed to have the bit between his teeth now and i wondered if he had not become a footballer if he would have had a bright future in politics back home in Rio Grande.
"It is the law of nature that youth must have its turn and that we older citizens must relinquish some of the reigns of wealth and power. If qwe do not we confuse the laws of nature, the cycle of life and we do so out of our own greed"
I think I must have looked sceptical because Gargagno turned to me and with great conviction etched across his face and continued to speak.
" Did you know bossio that in some Native American tribes, when a tribe member died they would burn all of their posessions and after that the person would never be spoken of again"
I wondered how we had got onto Native Americans but allowed him to continue as it seemed to sound interesting.
" I know to us that may seem somewhat cold and even primitive but think on it for a second.
If that tribe member had committed a shameful act, then that too would be burnt along with their smouldering posessions, so that shame could then not be passed down to the next generation.
Equally if they had been a magnifico leader, their feats and achievements would go up in smoke too. So as not to cast a long shadow over their offspring of constant comparison to their parent or relative.
They understood that each generation must have its own time and their time must not be clouded by what came before."
Now Gargagno could tell I was listening, I leant forward and begged him to continue.
" Now in the places that we call the most developed in the world, we eye the young with suspicion, we misunderstand them. We compare their youth with rose tinted memories of our own, almost always in a negative manner. We expect them to willingly accept the hardships they endure, because of our own mistakes and yet demand that they doff their caps to us but we will not share some of our power, wealth and security with them.
It seems that we have come so far forward, we have not even realised that we are walking backwards and by doing so trampling over the hopes and dreams of a new generation."
And with those words Gargagno screwed up the paper into a ball, then sublimely volleyed it into the bin at the other end of the bus. He had left me with a lot to think about as we stepped of the coach at the hotel.
Pastore waved goodbye to Ola and Annenka, I think there was part of him that was actually slightly relieved to see the back of them , as they had clearly exhuasted him, ore worryingly he kept harping on about a groin strain.
In the hotel lobby we had to wave away the over enthusiatic porter, who was offering to carry the still sleeping Gonzalo, who was at least four times his size, to his room.In the end it took five of us to carry the Argentine giant to his room and deposit him onto the too small single bed. The whole time he didn't as much stir or mutter.
Finall I closed the door to my room, sat on the end of my less than luxurious bed, cradling a luke warm espresso in my hand, I sighed and wondered what the future held for me and my brave team so far from our beloved homeland.
Viva Rio Grande
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