This morning, a local futbol team, the Rude Boys, paraded up Alacala and onto the grounds outside the zocalo.
I asked a waiter why a local soccer club would choose words in English for a team name. He said it was to attract attention. They sure did have ours this morning with their parade.
But as soon as 2 pm arrived, the streets (already nearly a ghost town on Sundays) were empty. People were huddled in front of any television they could find to watch the final game, a gripping World Cup battle.
I didn’t think I had a dog in the fight (or a horse in the race or…) until I heard Argentina lose. It was low and full of anguish.