The Fever Caught Up with Me

Franco Catalano — The Fever Caught Up with Me

In Argentina, soccer is a religion. When the match plays, no one really speaks, aside from the broadcaster, as mass has just begun. It doesn’t understand logic, and we are very superstitious about it. We sit in the same spot on the couch, wearing the same clothes we used last time the national team won, as lucky charms, just so we don’t jinx it. But not me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sport, but I hate the feeling of excitement that comes with it, especially during the World Cup, where for one month, my dear hometown of Buenos Aires falls victim to the opium of the masses that is soccer.

But this World Cup 2022, it’s different for me because it’s the first time I will not watch it in Buenos Aires, but actually in the city of Chicago. And I cannot be happier because I will not be victim of the excitement because let’s be honest, you don’t give a fudge about soccer.

So the first match of Argentina and the group stage is against Saudi Arabia on November 22, 2022. Surprisingly, Argentina loses that match. And I get to know this in the newspaper because I wasn’t sleeping while the match was going on because I mean, it was 5 a.m. in the morning. What I am supposed to say to my boss if I watch the match and they go to work looking like that, like, oh, sorry, I look like crap. I got the fever, the workout fever. I mean, I’m really glad that I’m not in Argentina right now because a loss like this makes everybody go moody or crazy or crazy moody.

But case in point, I talked to a friend and I told him I didn’t watch the match. First thing he tells me, Oh, then that’s why we lost. Because you didn’t watch the match. Don’t you ever think about not watching another Argentinian match during the World Cup. He’s one of five different persons that gave me the same speech, which makes me think, hold on, what is this crazy moon talk? Are you implying that Messi plays like crap because somehow he knows I’m not watching him play?

But I still love the sport, so during the next two matches against Mexico and Poland, as they occur in a normal hour, I watch them. And even though a loss means that Argentina gets kicked out of the World Cup, the fact that nobody is reminding me that between matches in a nervous manner or shouting at the TV while the match is on, makes me enjoy them and Argentina actually wins both matches and they go to the knockout stages where we play against Australia and the Netherlands in the round of 16 and quarter finals.

I plan to watch the matches with my wife. Nothing can break the calmness but something feels different. An example of that and something that proves it is the fact that Argentina scores an own goal against Australia putting the match 2 – 1 in Argentina’s favor and I watch, I look at my wife and I tell her, without thinking too much. Honey, you were in the kitchen when Argentina scored twice, right?

Is it too much to ask if you go back to the kitchen and you watch the rest of the match from there? And as she answers me with a dirty look, I tell her, oh, sorry, I don’t know where that came from. Argentina win both matches in nail biting moments. And during those moments, I am a mess. Strong emotions overwhelm me. I am sitting in the edge of the sofa, about to cry, shouting at the TV, why can’t we have nice things without having to suffer for them?

My wife cries with me, not because of the match, but because she thinks I’m about to have a stroke at any moment during those matches. So when my colleagues from work, my American colleagues from work, invite me to have a watch-along party in my honor for the semifinal against Croatia, I accept because the pressure of being in a social environment with my coworkers make me think that I will not fall to my emotions, which is correct for the first goal. Because for the second one, I shout in a low voice, I don’t know how that exists, but it occurs, while clenching my fist, and by the third Argentinian goal, I just jump and scream, while my colleagues laugh at me and celebrate with me. The final is on a Sunday while I’m here in Milwaukee.

And the first thing I think when I notice this is I watch all the matches in Chicago, If Argentina loses, I’m going to blame myself for the rest of my life. I have to be honest, I have caught the World Cup fever, finally. So I ask a friend that lives in the city what are his plans. He tells me he is going to watch the match with our first and second generation American Argentinians in a sports bar. I go there, and when I get there, what I see, it’s unbelievable.

Everyone has Argentinian flags, Argentinian t‑shirts. Everyone is drinking mate, our national drink. And it hits me. I miss this. It’s true that I hate some of our national traits, like making everything about life or death, a matter of life or death, but it is part of who I am, my identity.

And instead of thinking about the things that I hate about my country, I should shift focus and think about the comforting facts around it, like that we are passionate about everything. So I… get to watch the final with them. And as I leave that sports bar after the match, I understand two things. In first place, that no matter how much I deny it, my culture will come back to me and the best thing I can do is represent it the best way I can. And in second place, France. Thank you.