Argentine angles

Editor's note: In my quest to soak up the World Cup spirit, I have been trawling the web as well as the print. And I haven't come across a more intelligent and inspiring writing on football other than what Roger Cohen wrote for IHT. I discovered Cohen as a football writer a bit late, I must say. Nevertheless this early piece when Argentina beat Ivory Coast should be a must read for everyone who cares about sport.

By Roger Cohen/IHT
Everyone loves the Brazilians; nobody seems to have much love for the Argentines.
Why would that be?
Of course, the national temperaments of atropical, patriotic, forward-looking country like Brazil and a self-questioning, troubled, uncertain nation like Argentina are bound to be reflected on the football field, just as they are reflected on the dance floor.
Contrast the samba and the tango and you get some idea of how these two great footballing powers approach the game. Brazil plays to win with joy, Argentina plays not to lose because it carries the conviction that any match, like any love affair, can end in tragedy.
These thoughts came to me watching Argentina overcome Ivory Coast 2-1 in their opening Group C match. The victory was clinical and, on the whole, unlovable.
Sure, there was the class of Juan Roman Riquelme to admire in midfield, and the opportunism of Hernan Crespo, who showed with an early goal why he's the country's third-highest scorer behind Gabriel Batistuta and Diego Maradona.
But there was also Juan Pablo Sorin, the Argentine captain, tugging at an Ivory Coast shirt and then protesting his innocence to the referee with a pained indignation as vehement and unconvincing as that of a child caught pilfering candies.
And Sorin, again, taking a dive and feigning agony, only for the mysterious injury to disappear as soon as he thought eyes were off him. What kind of example is that, Juan? An example with a grand Argentine tradition,whose highest, or lowest, expression was Maradona's infamous "hand-of-God" goal against England in the 1986 World Cup quarter-final in Mexico, a tournament theArgentines went on to win.
Maradona followed his fraudulent goal against England- finger-tipped into the net - with one of the most brilliant individual efforts ever seen: a mazy run from his own half past five England players that ended with an unstoppable low shot. But, of course, the stolen goal diminished the stupendous goal.
On the other occasion the Argentines won the trophy, in BuenosAires in 1978, the generals were busy "disappearing" people as the crowds roared. The holding of the World Cup in the Argentina of the "dirty war" amounts to a dark moment in the tournament's 76-year history.
All that said, the Argentine team looks formidable. They are what they set out to be: very hard to beat. They're clever, not always in the best sense, and they have the skill to complement their cleverness.
They're also ruthless. Football, like darkness, is in their blood; their style is unmistakable. It's not a seductive style, but it tends to get the job done. There's brio and brilliance to the Argentine game; the knife slides in before the opposition even has time to see it and then an impenetrable shield goes up.
Without question, they could win this competition. But, be honest, how many of you non-Argentines out there would really like that to happen?