9 November 2015
The difference couldn't be bigger between Edgardo "Patón" Bauza, who with great dignity officially announced today that he'll stop being CASLA´s coach at the end of the current tournament, after the last match against Atlético Rafaela, regardless of what happens, and characters like Caruso Lombardi and Jose Mourinho - who never cease glorifying themselves and blaming others for their professional and personal defects. As a Cuervo, I'm grateful for everything Patón gave to San Lorenzo - above all, of course, the 2014 Copa Libertadores, but also his demeanour. His graciousness is an extraordinary example in such mean times for soccer regarding the behaviour of players and coaches. With Bauza, things have been different, respectful; he has been professional. As much as his frequently conservative approaches have bothered me, I have always appreciated his humility and good manners with the club, the players, supporters and the press. He is a person who inspires decency and good teamwork. I wish him luck everywhere.
Mou gets twisted
The news about Bauza killed me. I realised I loved him.
Yes. He is a gentleman, one of the few in soccer. I think it's good that he has decided on his own that his cycle is over. He is choosing his farewell moment and at the same time this Sunday, during the match against Temperley, he's giving supporters the opportunity to be grateful to him on the field for what he achieved with CASLA. By the way, I'm going to the field to see the match. I know that you can't go, but I hope to see you on Monday to give you a hug and maybe, with a bit of luck, celebrate the fact that we are alive in the fight for the championship. If we win and Boca loses, we'll still be dreaming.
Yesterday Anita was telling me that she wanted to see you. She told me "I want Uncle Viggo to carry me in his arms in the rain to enter the goal." Great. I hope we can see each other because I miss you very much. Cuervo hug.
I miss you too, and Anita, Guadalupe and Rita. And I want very much to meet Julián. I will bring you that Christmas present from last year that they returned to me three times, the package that crossed the Atlantic so many times. If Anita wants we can go and have pizza at the San Antonio. Your old man has his birthday in the next few days, right? I would love to see him if possible. That thing about being in my arms in the rain is from that time we were in the Sports Complex with Anita and went at a gallop through the pitch in the rain, remember? It was right before we left for Patagonia to begin shooting Jauja with Lisandro.
In the rain with Ani....
© Viggo Mortensen.
I hope to see Lisandro and his family too. Seeing that now there will be a "triangular" to define who is president of Argentina, do you remember the day we were in that office during the Mar del Plata Festival and Lisandro sat under Scioli's photograph? [tr. note: one of the candidates for the presidency]
© Viggo Mortensen.
I just saw, in the plane that is taking me to Buenos Aires, a film from 2006 that disturbed me, impressed me and left me thinking about my body and those of all human beings, about my deepest desires and fears - those things that you tell to a good friend after an emotional disaster makes you feel ashamed. It's called Notes on a Scandal. I think that in Spanish it's called Diario de un escándalo [tr. note: Diary of a Scandal]. The main actors are Judi Dench, Cate Blanchett and Bill Nighy. They are all good. The direction and photography are excellent. There's a lot of voice over, something I do not normally like, but here it doesn't spoil the film. Judi Dench is the best Anglo-Saxon actress of our time. Beyond Meryl Streep or any other. And even considering that Blanchett is a very great artist. But what Dench does is at another level. Her mind, her eyes, her discretion, her courage, her essential lack of shame are those of an incomparable master of her craft. The same craft that for thirty years has given me home and food, but that, on seeing Dench, I realize I'm a novice stumbling in a fog of uncertainty. I have no fucking idea what it is to embody a character as Judi Dench does. With a thousand nuances, with an irony and an existential pain so profound that nothing else exists, that compels me to pay attention to her and leaves me marvelling at her art. To have Dench in my life - living at the same time as her - is like having Messi and my son Henry. See this film, this masterful acting work by Judi Dench, if you can find it around.
Dench and Blanchett ...
How lovely to see you yesterday in Boedo with Anita and the others for your dad´s birthday! Although your old man, like mine, has entered that mental room that only he knows and recognises as his own, it seemed to me that he enjoyed being surrounded by his loved ones very much. I loved to see him so calm and happy. Thanks for inviting me to the asadito. When your brother sends you the photographs he took, please send me some if possible. This is one of the ones I took of your dad:
© Viggo Mortensen.
As I told you last night at Lisandro's, it was very nice to see a match on our field after so long. The team played well for Paton's farewell, and Pipi moved really well, executing a couple of dribbles and several accurate passes. He has an elegance all his own, unique. He can still surprise you with the speed of his thought and his agility. That personal rhythm he has, so unique, enables him to anticipate and make the most of what others will do, the rivals as well as his own teammates. I hope he stays well, and that he's able to play a bit against Rafaela next week. Our "10" has extraordinary mental strength. He has returned fast and sharp from another serious knee surgery, and he has played as if he were ten years younger.
Romagnoli for Matos
I´m sure you are also repelled by Tévez' phrase ("Everything went back to normal") that the Bosteros have incorporated to define what the new Boca championship supposedly means for the country. It sounds like a phrase from the hard right, that thing about "order" and the bosses once again suppressing the people. Again we will show them the normality of our sports fatherhood in the next tournament and in the 2016 Libertadores [Cup], with good soccer and zero arrogance.
I think that Rosario Central maybe was wrong not to go all out in Sunday's match against Banfield. If I were a Canalla supporter (tr. note: Rosario Central´s nickname] of the club that is playing better in Argentina, I'd like the coach to try to win it all, the tournament and the Cup. Now Boca is champion and they have no pressure. Central gave away the championship and now they have to win the Copa Argentina one way or another. Now that's pressure, see?
Dear Viggo, yesterday morning a sparrow got into the water heater through the air duct at home. I had to disassemble the entire pipe, climb up on a ladder, and grab it with my hand - it was terrified - and I managed to get it out alive and to send it flying off, something that it did very well. Luckily Guadalupe heard it beating against the steel machine; otherwise, if we had turned the water on to take a shower, the inner burners would have turned on and it would have been burned. With that we began our day. And that night, when we were coming back along Córdoba Avenue in our car from a presentation of a friend's book, a block in front of us we saw a girl screaming while two guys on a motorcycle tried to steal her wallet. I speeded up the car towards them and began to sound the horn, not very advisable because Guada and I were not alone; we had Julián behind us in his child seat and Anita seated with her seatbelt on. The guys got scared and let go of her and the girl got away without them robbing her. With that, we ended that day.
What you're telling me is both beautiful and terrible. It seems to me that you two received and could return two beautiful gifts, the sparrow and the girl that you rescued. I think the beautiful and the ugly almost always go hand in hand.
Boca won the Copa Argentina with outrageous refereeing. Instead of the 2-1 for them, it should have been 1-0 for Rosario Central. A penalty that wasn't and a clearly offside goal gave the victory to Arruabarrena's team. The Bosteros aren't at fault; they played a pretty bad soccer match and didn't deserve to win, but the resulting victory made them two-time Argentine champions. Although conspiracy theories and trickery don't interest me much, this case seems quite suspicious to me. If I were more paranoid, I'd say that this smells like a favor to assure the re-election of Daniel Angelici. It's not believable that Ceballos, a quite experienced referee, could be as consistently blind on the pitch, that he could be so exaggeratedly wrong. But that's how it's going to be. The match will not be played again, although the AFA should demand it.
Let's see if we can win the Supercopa match that we now have to play against Bosta [tr. note: Boca]. But it will be without Patón. It's been a strange year. In the end, Central, the team that, as you've been saying, plays the best soccer in the First Division has not been rewarded, except for the possibility of playing in the next Copa Libertadores tournament.
Now it's Sunday afternoon and I have to confess to you that for several days now my mood has hit a deep low. I don't know, maybe it's something chemical in my body, but that's what's going on with me. Life becomes a thick stew, and it's difficult to stir it. I lose the sense of joy and adventure and any stupid thing demolishes me. In fact, I'm writing to you now with all the love I feel for you, but with a lot of willpower because, actually, "The Ghost" is pulling me down, leaving me inactive like a diver disconnected from the boat that shelters him, in total darkness. Guada says that this always happens to me at this time of year and that usually it begins around my old man's birthday. Is that true? She said: "I'm going to make a note for you so when it happens again next year you can check it." I don't know, I haven't been doing karate for a year, since Julián was born, and in this complex year where so many things have happened to my family and me, I feel that loss of faith and strength. I feel like Chacho Coudet [tr. note: Rosario Central's coach] must be feeling, that it's useless to row because everything has been arranged. I lose the desire to read, to write; it all seems like a pipe-dream to me. And the family obligations that I enjoy so much become a heavy burden. Many times in my life I've been like this, but increasingly there's less time left for me on the chess clock and this - the natural impermanence of life - which is something I accept and could even say I enjoy when I'm all right, becomes an enemy.
I´m sorry, brother, and I think I understand you. As you'll remember, I told you last week at your home that I didn't have any desire to act, that, as far as creative work goes, reading and the recitation of poetry were barely enjoyable to me because I felt slow and not very optimistic regarding many of the activities that filled me with energy and happiness before. I try to keep my old man company the best I can, and I take care of the trees and animals that I come across. I enjoy my loved ones and I'm grateful for the love I receive. But something is not right, something is missing. So I think I'm a bit swamped and bogged down like you. Now I'm with my father, and he'll say anything - from one moment to the next, he can speak to me in Danish or English, thinking he is in Chile, Argentina, Denmark or in his parents home and that they are in the next room waiting for us. Yesterday he told me that a policeman stopped him, who ended up being the Pope who had gotten out of the car just to shake his hand. He told me as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and this morning he told me again. We know that these moments of depression come and go, that they are cycles, but that doesn't diminish the seriousness and the half drowsy pain that these downs bring. We have the good luck of being in the good company of our families, but sometimes not even that removes the shadow, the thick malignant fog. There's no guarantee of being able to get out of the hole either. It's necessary to fight against this ghost. Life is one comeback after another. Maybe it's because of that that we are Cuervos, because the CASLA supporter always has to struggle a little more than the other well-known Argentine teams. Maybe, if you have time, it would be good to go back to karate...
I don't know if you saw the Cuervos last match, but it occurred to me that Bauza's strategy was a good technique for fighting depression. We were quickly left with one less player - I have three less and on the opposite side is Barcelona with Messi - and the team reconstructs itself to bear the disadvantage in an awful pitch where wall passes are allowed. (Notice that Mercier played as "two" and Cauteruccio played as defensive midfielder with an intense dedication, and that two lines of four were created and in that way, we held on until the end.)
A total relief. We have a team. I think you can defeat Barcelona playing with eight, even with la Pulga [tr. note: Messi] in the field. But one of the eight has to be Torrico.
The short film Boedo 2108
written by Martín Cutino and Alejandro Giandinoto (directed by Lucas González Canosa) is great. I post it here for those who have not seen it:
Last edited: 6 February 2016 08:42:53