There are songs that are just songs. And there are others that are an entire country fitting into three verses.
This one became Argentina’s anthem at the World Cup. The players sing it, the crowd chants it, fans whisper it on the other side of the planet. Because it is not about football: it is about memory.
For Malvinas, for those who are no longer here. For Diego, who gave everything and left too soon. And for Leo’s last one, the shy captain who still has one battle pending before hanging up his boots.
Now England appears, and fate, which sometimes writes with irony, brings them together again. Like in 86, when Maradona made an afternoon eternal. Forty years later, another number ten dreams of repeating the feat.
It will not be revenge. It will be football, which is the noblest way to settle old scores.