Horacio Pagani
02/21/2020 - 7:01
- Clarín.com
- sports
It was my first trip to Japan. With all that meant 37 years ago. Santos Laciar was going to defend his world title from flies to Suichi Hozumi. May 1983 The place, Shizuoka. "Calm down. Everyone speaks English there ..." he said "enough" with one of those close friends who say they know everything.
That was the first lie (proven in that and in the ten subsequent trips to the enigmatic islands of the Far East). Nobody spoke that international language that we barely stammered with Carlos Losauro, a colleague from La Nación and a buddy of all those journeys. "When you arrive at Tokyo Narita Airport you take a bus that is close to the exit and that takes you to the central train station. You will see it because it looks like Constitution ... " That was true.
Santos Benigno Laciar, in one of his world title defenses.
Of course, the distance of almost 70 kilometers took more than two hours to travel. At times, at the pace of man, without a minimum honk of the disciplined Japanese. The first mess came once inside. There were no ticket vending machines of these times, of course. We had to face the ticket offices. With yen bills in the open hand and with the best possible Japanese accent: "Shizuoka ... Shizuoka ..." It was not necessary to add anything. It would not have served, after all. The return and the two tickets in the same hand. All with the Japanese signs. Only four understandable numbers: 19.10. It was about 17 and we agreed that this would be the arrival time. Relying on the punctuality of these people, at that time we left the train anyway.
Human tides moved all over the gigantic arena full of stairs. We face one and go down to a platform. We succeed by chance. There were small rows separated every ten meters. I showed the tickets to an older man and he pointed to two white lines between which there was no line. When the train stopped with a door in front of us we realized the reason. They had sold us the most expensive tickets . It was a luxurious car, with upholstered seats with red velvet and lace toppings. At 19.10 we go down.
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Shizuoka was read in "Christian" in lowercase letters. The first inconvenience upon departure was the directive of delivering the ticket upon departure. I needed it to justify the per diem, in Clarín . It was a fight with the guards until one turned and put it in a photocopier (in 1983!). We wanted to take a taxi to the Grand Palace Hotel, where we had reserved the rooms. We saw them in front of the exit on an avenue crossed by an impenetrable ligustrine.
But every time we threatened to cross a policeman we were prevented. We only said "taxi ... Grand Palace Hotel ...", in the best possible Japanese. He put his hand on our chest and shouted "Crilo". Three times. In the end with greater hardness . We discovered a Westerner (by rounded eyes) and asked him to intercede. He talked to the police and translated that the hotel was on the corner. That's why he wouldn't let us cross .
Japanese journalists mocked the jaw of the little Laciar. They thought it would be easy for Hozumi to connect his punches. They realized otherwise before the end of the second round. Falucho knocked him out . Less than six minutes of fighting to comment after more than 30 hours of travel between flights and connections. And it was commented long, according to the customs of those times. The texts were read and recorded by telephone. With God's help. That was the first excursion to Japan .
David vs. Goliath
Two years later the challenge was football . And the stage was going to be the Tokyo National Stadium. December 1985. We already considered ourselves "experts." Argentinos Juniors, was the champion of America and would face Juventus, of Italy, champion of Europe. His great figure and captain was Michael Platini, considered at that time (in which Diego Maradona reigned) among the five best players in the world .
The American consecration of the unsuspected Argentinos Juniors before the America of Cali had been difficult. As each one won their home game the playoff was played in Asunción del Paraguay. There was extension and penalties. Vidallé, the archer of the Bug was the great figure to reach the title. In the other arc was Julio Falcioni .
Argentinos had won the 1984 Metropolitan, directed by Roberto Saporiti. Then his position was occupied by José Yudica who was the continuator of a game idea that always shone in the team of La Paternal. If that was the birthplace of Diego Maradona, that of Fernando Redondo, then that of Román Riquelme, and so many others . But at that time the star was the Bichi Claudio Borghi, for many "Diego's successor" who was heading towards maximum glory in the Japanese capital.
Juventus had won the European final against Liverpool on that tragic night in Heysel, Belgium, in which 39 people (mostly Italian) lost their lives due to the riots generated by the English fans (the hooligans) before the game, causing avalanches that ended with the suffocation of hundreds of people. And with that unprecedented number of dead, the game was played the same (the authorities considered that the suspension could enlarge the tragedy in the streets) and won Juventus 1 to 0 with a Platini penalty.
No one knew anything about Argentinos Juniors in Japan . Not even the origin. That was the main theme of the very long trip we shared with the squad on the planes that took us first to Los Angeles and then to Tokyo. Claudio Borghi was my seat partner during both sections. He was 21 years old and said he was a Mormon, faith that he would abandon time. He had been the great protagonist of the conquest of the Copa Libertadores. And for that reason it was presented together with Michel Platini in the large canopies that awaited us on arrival at Narita airport.
A single fan represented Argentines in Tokyo: Lito Tujschinaider . A merchant from Villa Urquiza (Víctor's father, dedicated to journalism years later) with whom we began a friendship that lasts 35 years later.
José Yudica was a bold coach and was not worried about the net favoritism of the Italian team. Without exaggerated tactical searches. With the quality of Jorge Olguín in the central defense, the certainties of Sergio Batista as a midfielder, plus the magic of Borghi and the overflows of Pepe Castro and Ereros. Commisso was the one of the efforts and Videla the support of the Bichi. Juventus had the Danish Laudrup, and Scirea and Cabrini, World champions with Italy, in 1982.
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At the end it was recognized until today as the best Intercontinental final in history. He was back and forth between two aesthetic teams and willing to attack decisively. The explosion occurred in the second half . At 10 minutes he opened the Ereros marker. He tied Platini from a penalty (from Olguín to Serena). The Argentine team came back up at 30 with a goal from Pepe Castro. According to Yudica's offensive criteria, his team continued to attack. But Laudrup managed the tie at 37 minutes: 2 to 2.
The surprised Japanese who celebrated the Juventus plays (watched the Italian tournament on television) ended up cheering the two in overtime . There was a great goal by Platini annulled (his image lay on the court with his hand on his chin as a protest for history) and another Castro also invalidated. Pavoni and Batista failed in the penalties and the Cup remained for Juventus. But the farewell of the Japanese unbelievers was exciting .
The next morning, at the Prince Hotel, where the two delegations were staying and this special envoy, I had the opportunity to make a joint note with the two captains: Adrián Domenech and Michael Platini. The main theme, beyond the mutual praise for the great game they had starred in, was the quality of Claudio Borghi. Platini was graphic when he said he was "an artist. Play as if he had Picasso on that right foot ." Quickly the Bichi was transferred to Milan from Italy. And then continued with his uneven European journey.