never have i found a tied game to be so utterly exhausting. mexico had possession of the ball so often that oswaldo, mexico's goalie, had almost nothing to do but spectate, and yet angola's goalie remained completely invincible. el tinacal, a pulquería, was packed with at least 500 fans, yelling and chanting and toasting to the team, and patricio and i feel like toast in the aftermath, after a full hour and a half on the edges of our seats. the noise level was incredible there, the sound of the crowd's energy, equaled only by the consumption of kilos of meat. if the tables upstairs weren't sending down and uproar, we were sending an earnest, ear-splitting one their way. as the timer moved forward, it looked like our friend paco was going to cry; he desperately stuffed himself with carnitas instead. we crossed our fingers and bit our lips, and kept our eye-blinking down to the barest minimum. but we didn't win this time around, and i'll admit, it was a bit of a bummer. a tie isn't a loss, though, and we could tell by the mariachis--requested to play among tables--that nary a spirit was broken.
for photos--primarily in green, red and white--make your mouse click on album to the right.