vs Brazil

We face our past demons once again.

Viva El Futbol. Viva Guerrero. Viva Guanajuato. Viva Mexico.

Here I am again.


After going through 4 more years of my life, I am about to embark on another journey with my beloved Mexican national futbol (futbol, football, soccer--whatever you want to call it, it’s that) team in another FIFA World Cup tournament. The last match we played in this competition ended in utter heartbreak as we were knocked out by a resilient Netherlands squad who banked in 2 last-minute goals, one of which spawned the ever-familiar #NoEraPenal trend in social media. No era penal chingada madre. Lo llevo esto hasta mi cama de muerte.

When the game ended, I remember sitting upright in a butterfly-like position on the floor in disbelief over what I had just seen on the TV screen. As I was still trying to digest everything in a calm demeanor, I tried to eat my post-game food on the table situated near the kitchen in my house. As I took my first bite of the food, I couldn’t contain my sad emotions piling up in my heart. As such, I preceded to cry. I wondered to God why he did what he did and gave the Dutch the victory. Fast forward a few hours of that day and I was still devastated over the result. It was so bad that when my dad asked me about what happened in my room I cried again in front of him while mumbling unintelligible words in an attempt to explain the whole ordeal. Nevertheless, when all was said and done and I calmed down a bit, I swore to him that we would be back and better than ever in 4 years’ time.

Well, here I am now. Those 4 years have passed and I’m starting to feel the pre-game World Cup jitters that I’ve been familiar with for the past 3 occasions (‘06-’14; I didn’t count 98’ & ’02 because I was too young to understand how big the tournament actually is). Though this is normally a good thing for any soccer fan to experience, I don’t feel at ease in comparison. For starters, we’re starting our tournament in Russia against Germany, the reigning world champions and 4-time winners of the tournament. And second, the belief in my national team’s coach (J.C. Osorio) is not entirely positive and wholesome.

Criticism towards his rotational deployments in each game has been rampant throughout his tenure. This has been amplified thanks to the team’s international disappointments in the past 2 summers. In 2016, Mexico lost to Chile in the Copa America Centenario quarterfinals via a massacre (SEVEN TO ZERO). The next year, they lost to Jamaica in the CONCACAF Gold Cup semifinals and fell to Germany—their B team, no less--in a blowout as well, losing 4-1 in the FIFA Confederations Cup semifinals.

Additionally, his selection towards certain players despite them having no form whatsoever prior to big games have brought questions over their effectiveness in said games (I’m looking straight at you, Gio dos Santos.). Despite all of this, we qualified for the World Cup in a comfortable fashion, finishing first in the final “hexagonal” round of the CONCACAF region, thereby easing tensions between the coach and the fans for just a moment.

With more than 2 years under his belt as the coach of Mexico, he has prepared his team for this moment, the moment of playing against the best in the World Cup. In the face of all the negative stuff thrown at the entire team prior to the opening kick-off, I stand by them ready to celebrate or suffer through their actions on the field.

I am a fan that has gone through thick and thin with my country. I sat back distraught as I saw Maxi Rodriguez score the goal of his life for Argentina to eliminate us in the 2006 World Cup. I was consoled by my dad as I saw that same Argentina team dismantle us 3-1 in the 2010 World Cup. I sat on my chair speechless as I counted down the seconds toward our supposed impending elimination against Costa Rica in 2014 World Cup qualification phase. The many FUCKING “dos a cero” chants that came my country’s way via the United States over the years until our victory against them on Veterans’ Day of 2016.

I’ve been through it all, which means disappointment and sadness are nothing new to me. Like every opening game of a tournament, the hopes of victory and delirium ring around every fan towards their selected nation. Unfortunately, such hopes cannot be given to everyone. For every instance of joy and relief in soccer, there is also one of defeat and anguish. I don’t want to be on the latter side of that particular see-saw. I don’t think anyone does, to be honest. That’s why I will support my country to make sure that that doesn’t happen again. For today and the next 2 games in the group stage, win.

Win, mi querido Seleccion Mexicana.

Viva Mexico. A ganar guey. Es ahora o nunca.

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Just once, I want to be on the winning end of an unlikely situation.