Evening tea-Tri-ca and pate-Tri-ca

Evening tea Tri ca and pate Tri ca

LOS ANGELES – The Mexican National Team is already in captivity. It has already been totally kidnapped.

Saturday night lived an extreme, summary coven. She is defenseless. It is exploited by all those who love it, hate it, need it, rule it, prostitute it, squeeze it. The shackles of unbridled ambition are unbreakable.

The yoke that oppresses the Tri’s throat is controlled by a ruthless enemy. And the enemy is at home. And there is no one who defends it. All that and more was evident this Saturday night. An evening tea-Tri-ca and pate-Tri-ca.


Unfortunately, the fans have taken control of the fate of El Tri. If it disappoints you, if it does not charm you, if it does not comply, oppress it, repress it, depress it, with #ElGrito.

This Saturday, the Costa Rican referee Ricardo Montero twice stopped the game between Mexico and Trinidad & Tobago due to the persistence of the howling in the stands, although he should have done it from the first half.

#ElGrito is undergoing a metamorphosis. It is no longer an insult to the opposing goalkeeper, it is an insult to the very Mexican National Team. It is a claim, an implacable summons: “Either you win, you like and goals, or I scream.” And today the Tri of ‘Tata’ Martirio is not to be liked or thrashed, and hardly to win.

Unfortunately and silly, players appear with statements that leave everyone perplexed. Rogelio Funes Mori with the stupidity award: “The scream is the referee’s fault.” Montaigne used to say that “nobody is free to say stupid things, the bad thing is to say them with so much emphasis.” No Twin, #ElGrito is you and the other ten who dance on the court, to cause pity in a pitiful and pitiful area like Concacaf.

Will Mexico play El Salvador and Guatemala behind closed doors? Of course not. Concacaf is drugged with pleasure by the smell of Mexican dollars. The Gold Cup is not, genuinely, a soccer tournament, but a bookmaker in which Concacaf is the only one to win.


Minute 18. Hirving Lozano goes with everything, for everything in the Trinidad area. He spins and his face hits the knee of goalkeeper Marvin Phillip. Dantesque scene. The Mexican’s body arches almost in a chilling ‘U’. Additionally, a scarlet stain spills over onto the player’s left eye. Chucky is unconscious. Terror, horror. Medical assistance falters. Slower than the Mexican attack on Saturday night.

Later, the reassuring trill arrives through the Twitter account of the Mexican National Team. “He is stable and conscious”, while in social networks they burn the whistling Montero in green wood, whose only blunder, capital letter, certainly, was not to measure Lozano’s injury, and to delay medical aid.

In Tokyo, with the Olímpica, Guillermo Ochoa wants to dress up as a vigilante upstart in a tweet. Champion of opportunism. He criticizes Víctor Montagliani, the one who is president who does not rule in Concacaf, rebuking him for Chucky’s injury.

Why didn’t Ochoa ravish Emilio Azcárraga Jean or Yon de Luisa, who have given Concacaf to the manipulation and degradation of their favorite casquivana, El Tri,? Exactly: they sign their checks, and they will also decide whether or not to attend their fifth World Cup.


Trinidad & Tobago handed over the court and the ball. It piled up at the bottom. Athletically superior to the Mexicans, the Trinidadians understood that coming out alive would already deserve an Olympic return. And they went for her, wallowing in the trench.

But, El Tri, with the rival surrendered and waiting for the beheading, did not know or could, although, it is clear, always wanted. Certainly, Chucky Lozano’s crushing injury had an emotional impact.

T & T’s tacit surrender was evident in possession. 83 percent in favor of Mexico. Seven shots on target, and 23 deflected. Fifteen corner kicks.

And wisdom at its finest. Let’s frame such scholarship. “The ball did not want to enter”, is the song of Jorge Theiler, Gerardo Martino’s assistant, at the end of the game.

Nor is it that Mexico developed a master plan on the field. With 15 corner kicks and 30 shots on goal, faced with an adversary huddled in despair, the rejega and perjura ball cannot be blamed for conspiring and plotting against the Mexicans.

Guatemala and El Salvador are coming. The chapines were kidnapped from their vacations, after the separation from Curaçao by Covid-19. Salvadorans live a new process with Hugo Pérez, taking over from Carlos de los Cobos.

If there was hysteria among some due to the harshness and rudeness of the Trinidadians, the intensity that Guatemala and El Salvador will show will be much higher, because these selected ones will add passion and resentment to each play.

However, due to the pedigree of its players; for the three preparation tours in Europe; because it has nailed a spike burning for losing the League of Nations, for Gerardo Martino and his Spartans, hired from Concacaf, they only have to win, like and score.

Although that damn sphere of stylized and smooth synthetic leather, conspires with the adversary, as assured by the wisdom of Thelier, spokesman for Martino’s pretexts: “The ball did not want to enter.”