The last hope of the mini Tri
Ah, Mexican soccer. That perfectly oiled machine for generating existential dramas even in children’s categories. Our beloved Mexican Under-17 Team, in a plot twist that no one saw coming (no one, except perhaps every fan of the last twenty years), is on the brink of the abyss after its resounding 2-1 loss against South Korea. The setting for this gem of football tension? Any given Friday against Ivory Coast. Because nothing says “total urgency” like depending on a victory against an African team so that a country of more than 120 million inhabitants does not start packing its bags from the group stage.
Coach Carlos Cariño, in a demonstration of optimism that borders on the touching (or worrying), assures us that the team is “solid.” Sure, as solid as a house of cards in a hurricane. But, be careful, his post-match analysis was a masterpiece: “they deserved more.” Take it now! That phrase, the consolation of losers since time immemorial, the football equivalent of “I almost made it.” Did they deserve more goals? Probably. Did they write them down? Definitely not. A lesson in quantum physics applied to football where what is deserved and what is real are parallel dimensions that never meet.
A “there is no tomorrow” speech that sounds familiar
The mantra is repeated with unwavering faith: “there is no tomorrow”. The kids, who should be worried about their math homework, now carry the weight of “taking out the Mexican caste.” Because, as we well know, the essence of national football is not tactics or technique, but that mythical quality that magically appears when there is no other option. Cariño, with the solemnity of a general before battle, has declared that his pupils “have perfectly understood” the situation. One hopes that they at least understand the marker better than the motivational speech.
And then there is the plea to the fans. “Continue to support,” the strategist prays. Because in Mexico, the faith of the fan is the fuel that moves the immobile. It is a beautiful cycle: the team disappoints, the technicians ask for faith, the fans give it, the team disappoints again, and so on in an infinite loop that some psychoanalyst should study. The promise that “we’re going to do it tomorrow” sounds as comforting as it is empty, an advertising slogan for a movie we’ve already seen too many times. Will they get up in the difficult moment? Or will they simply add another sad chapter to the long tradition of stumbling over the same rock, but with younger players and shorter pants?
The closing of the group stage against Switzerland on Monday hangs like a sword of Damocles. But first, the small detail of winning today. The outlook is as clear as it is desperate: either they win, or the illusion fades faster than a ball on an empty playing field. The tricolor team not only plays for points; He plays to keep alive the fantasy that, this time, history will be different. A fantasy that, let’s be honest, has more remakes than a Hollywood franchise.
Will we be witnessing the glorious resurgence of a golden generation or simply the prelude to another “learning process”? The bets are open. The only thing that is certain is that the drama is guaranteed, the rhetoric is served and the ninety minutes of football will decide if this is a new beginning or simply the same ending with a different cover.
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