The Messi arc reaches a decisive point in Atlanta – passage to a third final or an exit to test the limits of Argentina’s love for their unassuming athlete-geniusWednesday night, Atlanta Stadium, 101 games down, three left to play, and finally it makes sense. Bring on The Countdown, that moment just before kick-off in every one of those quietly fascinating World Cup matches where suddenly the world’s most excited man is bellowing over the PA system in a state of outraged, crowing transport, like the last voice you’ll ever hear before the American century explodes in a ball of inanity, fried chicken and porn.“NAYYYN!! …” the world’s most excited man shouts, prelude to some cautious rolling possession, maybe an early back-pass, and an agreeable reminder that the game itself will not be stage managed.
This World Cup will deliver the greatest goddam quiet bathos the galaxy has ever seen.
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