On Sunday night, following the triumph of the peruvian national team regarding New Zealand, a group of journalists stopped at a bar near the hotel. We were five. We ate greedily and, following a few minutes, in the warmth of some bottles of Estrella de Galicia, we began to talk regarding football with a passion that increased as the night progressed. At one point it occurred to me to put a question on the table: is it Ricardo Gareca the best coach of all that the national team has had since its existence? They all looked at me assuming the obviousness of the answer, and immediately went on to offer their arguments.
A, the eldest, loosened his tie, drank a drink and gave a purely statistical reason: Gareca has directed Peru more than any other coach, he has 95 games, almost a hundred. Marcos Calderón, how many did he manage? Asked B. He did not reach 60 games, he scored A [llegó a 51 entre 1960 y 1980]. But not only that, C indicated, Gareca has privileged the team over individuality. It’s true, D agreed, he stopped summoning Vargas and Pizarro, something that Markarián would never have done. In addition, Gareca did it, B clarified, because he was convinced that neither ‘Loco’ nor Claudio really benefited the group.
In the countryside
There is another thing, pointed out B, who had just exchanged his beer for a raspberry gin and tonic: Gareca has brought players back. Are you talking regarding Cueva? I asked. That’s right, he said, Cueva was summoned when he played in Alianza and he had chelera wadding, Gareca made him give up and the guy went to play in Brazil, Mexico, Arabia. He changed her life. Salud por Cueva!, harangued D, who was always looking for some excuse to clink glasses.
I believe that Gareca’s greatest merit, observed C, has been his technical pragmatism: he started playing 4-4-2 in the 2015 Copa América, the one in Chile, then changed to 4-2-3-1, with that scheme he qualified for Russia and played the World Cup, and then had to rethink to 4-3-2-1. In other words, man changes, evolves, adapts. B hung on that point and added: Let’s not forget that Gareca, in the last two Qualifiers, we were penultimate, came back and took us to the World Cup.
We haven’t qualified yet, stressed A. Yeah, well, but we can, we’re regarding to, B defended himself. He then dried his glass of gin and asked for another. D returned from the bathroom and without sitting down he said: So far no one mentions the most valuable thing regarding Gareca. What is it?, C consulted, already with somewhat glazed pupils. That Gareca has led a seven-year process, said D, that nobody did. It’s true, said A, Didí took us to Mexico 70, but in total I think she only spent two years in the national team. But Marcos Calderón did direct a process, even two, I intervened, and on top of that he won the Copa América in 1975. Gareca doesn’t have titles, I said, trying to ignite some controversy. A retorted me to the second: reaching the World Cup is more than winning a Copa America. Well, Marcos took us to the World Cup too, recalled C, he had an incredible first round and went through to the round of 16. Cheers to Chueco!, asked D. But hold on, Marcos Calderón also inherited the most miserable performance in history, the 6-0 once morest Argentina, said B. Cheers to Menotti!, corrected D.
And why doesn’t anyone here mention Tim? Didn’t he take us to Spain ’82? C asked, hiccuping. Yeah, but Tim found a team already made up, said A, the tie around his neck like a streamer. Lie! D warned, he took Uribe and Barbadillo. Only those two, A highlighted, also had great players and only stayed a year, nothing more.
The best thing that Gareca has done has been to reestablish the prestige of the national team, said B, with a certain drunken solemnity. Of course, now when the national team plays, people go to work wearing a shirt, A noted. It has given us pride, that’s the point, C said, if he becomes nationalized, they make him president in the first round. Then I asked for the bill but there was still time for the last harangue of the night. D stood up, picked up his umpteenth bottle and uttered the only possible words to close that conversation: Boys, a dry and flipped by the Tiger! Health!
