Feliz Navidad, all. I'm currently wrapping up this edition in 85-degree heat, drinking a yerba maté, and awaiting a Christmas potluck with my assortment of friends I've made here in the city of Buenos Aires. I can't say it feels much like Christmas here. But Michael Bublé is trying his hardest from the little JBL speaker we have maxed out in the corner. Yeah, this is a World Cup-themed story. Excuse the delays as I've slowly collected myself following a few days of shock, elation, and a heavy adrenaline dump.

After 64 matches, 28 days, and more than 1,000 minutes of fútbol personally watched, that's a wrap on the World Cup—and Argentina are World Champions. Not many people would be lucky enough to be in Argentina perfectly coincided with one of the most fanatic fútbol nations to win the world's biggest tournament. I've watched every minute of their run to the finish line, in the nation's capital, from their shocking loss in the opening match up to when Messi hoisted his trophy. I've learned national chants down to the lyric and jumped until my calves have cramped into immobility. Sure, I could give less than a damn about the actual fútbol being played; I came here to witness one of the most passionate displays of unity humanity still has on offer. Again I'll reiterate: not many people would be lucky enough to be in Argentina perfectly coincided with one of the most fanatic fútbol nations to win the world's biggest tournament. Yet, here I am. Feeling very, very grateful.

Vamos Argentina...

Argentina's Fútbol Fanaticism

For those that don't know, Argentina kinda loves fútbol (soccer). At least that's what I had always heard about it. When the cheapest flight I could find to South America landed me in Santiago a few months ago, I realized I had just put myself in an optimal situation to check this out for myself. Besides, too many narratives were lining up. Argentina was one of the favorites to win it. This was Messi's last chance to lift the trophy. It's summer down here... All too good to be true. So, I arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina's capital, days before the opening match to witness what could be history—if you've followed the World Cup at all in the last month, you know that it has now been made too.

My first taste of Argentinian fandom came when I first crossed the border from Chile into the southernmost province of the nation. I was pleased to find that I was just in time for the final match day of the Argentine Primera Division complete with a title push between club-level behemoths Boca Juniors and Racing Club. After Boca's narrow victory, the streets in sand-washed Comodoro Rivadavia were alive with the club's fans beeping car horns, chanting songs of adoration, and marching the streets with flags. To me, all I could wonder was how this country would respond if the team that every citizen collectively supports were victorious in two months' time.

As I continued to amble my way through the nation towards Buenos Aires in the lead-up to the World Cup, I had many a conversation with folks from different corners of the nation regarding their anticipation for the world's tournament. In these lively discussions, I admired how deep the fandom for a sport in this country could be. From tombstone embossment designating which club the deceased supported to exams being delayed in anticipation of a tournament run, I began to affirm I'd made the right choice and settled down in Buenos Aires. And then Argentina lost their opening match against bottom-ranked Saudi Arabia.

The mood of this country seems to be heavily intertwined with the successes and defeats of their national fútbol team. The day following that embarrassing display by the team, a heavy sorrow hung in the air around the city. What worse way to start the day than your team approaching an early exit from a World Cup before the clock even strikes 9:00 AM? It was as if all the excitement and build-up for this tournament popped like a balloon. I even began to reconsider whether I'd stay here as long as I planned if Argentina was out within a week's time.

Despite the dark forecast following that match, Argentina did end up playing every single match of this World Cup. Triumphs over Mexico, Poland, and Australia fueled hopes back to life. The belief in the "ilusión" had returned. Blowing a lead against the Netherlands, only to win the quarterfinals in a shaky penalty shootout, resulted in rabid celebrations under a lightning storm. Disposing of Croatia handily in the semifinals meant Argentina was a match away from lifting a trophy that they hadn't lifted in 36 years. Dreams were closing in on reality for most. Plans were being made for when they won, not if.

On the day of the final, the chaos began before the match even started. Public transport was a tangled mess of delayed trains and no-show buses. Citizens walked the streets singing restrained stanzas of their World Cup anthem "Muchachos". TV screens lost power in the run-up causing bars to siphon power from news vans down the street. At kickoff, the chants began, but it was evident that the nerves were taking hold of everyone. In the 23rd minute, Messi scored a penalty. The crowds burst into fits of relieved screams. In the 36th minute, Di Maria tucked away another. Now, we all believed it was happening. Argentina was going to win the World Cup. Fans danced, sang, drank, and jumped. It was as if the remaining 50 minutes were just a formality.

Then Mbappé scored two goals in two minutes. Tied. As the match unfolded into extra time, each team scored another goal, and both teams missed chances to end it in the dying moments. I fail to remember most of this bit as I was battling a mixture of adrenaline and stress that caused my eyes to glaze over in a wash of nerves. In penalties, Emi Martinez saved one, and France missed another. Around me, a few folks had fallen to their knees in feverish prayer. Every pair of eyes in the country then watched with bated breath as Montiel put away the last penalty, and Argentina won the 2022 World Cup Final.

From that point on, the capital emptied into the streets to begin one of the biggest celebrations in history. 4 million people charged towards the city-centered Obelisco to revel in what their national team achieved. Drums boomed through the avenues. Crowds choked normally quiet alleyways. Group chants resounded across many blocks. The city burned blue and white with flares and foam. Celebrations didn't stop for three days. It was beautiful madness in its finest form.

Why did this World Cup mean so much to this country and its people? I'm sure there's a mountain of reasons that I'm missing, but, from the conversations I've engaged in, it may be because there's not too much else to be celebrating in Argentina at this point in its history. If you're not familiar with the current economic situation here, inflation is at its worst ever (almost 100% in a year). Every peso earned loses value every day - to the point that it's better to spend immediately today than save for tomorrow. Roughly 40% of the population is below the poverty line, prices for base goods increase daily to the point that you're better off asking a cashier than trusting the label, and the best savings mechanism is buying U.S. dollars in the streets. At least those hold value. So, in desperate times, the World Cup becomes a distraction, a relief, and a reason to celebrate for Argentina. To me, that's why I found this last month so moving. It's impossible to describe the sheer beauty of watching a nation that, as admirable as Argentina is, is battling so much to unite in complete support of a common goal. And to actually achieve it, well, I'm sure you've seen a few videos on what that means too.

Favorite Clips From Argentina's World Cup Win

1. Streets of Buenos Aires Erupt: This video was taken by a biker down the tensely silent Avenida Corrientes as Montiel tucked away Argentina's final goal to win the World Cup. Make sure to turn the sound all the way up for this one.

2. Obelisco in Its Beautiful Madness: You've probably seen this one by now, but this guy's drone footage and timing with the chant make this a work of art.

3. Messi and his "Muchachos": If you're wondering what song every video about the World Cup Final is being posted with, it's called "Muchachos". The amount of times I've shouted this entire anthem myself is unspeakable—but here's Messi singing it for wholesome's sake.

If you enjoyed this edition, be sure to share it with someone. My goal is to have this newsletter reach those interested in traveling unconventionally and long-term, without requiring much cash. Or, at the very least, be an entertaining narrative of times on the road in South America. Either works for me.

Until next time,

-Ferg