A TALE OF TWO CHAUVINISMS, CODA

we probably won't ever know what christiano ronaldo whispered to rui patrício before the shootout that determined the semifinal of the UEFA EURO 2012 between portugal and spain, and in no small part because the spanish had secured their victory one spot kick before ronaldo had even had his chance to shoot. and probably, no one else in that irish bar next to the viapol building in seville had given that whisper even a first thought. and likely, it did nothing to influence the game as the final outcome was, arguably, decided more by the crossbar of the goal than the goalkeeping of patrício or iker casillas. that's what a portuguese would argue, anyway -- and that in any case it was probably impossible for patrício to hear what ronaldo whispered with all of the noise in the bar. spain, as he always says, is the country of cacophony. and it's true, the bar was loud. but probably, so too were the bars in portugal, although i don't know if i would have been nearly as uncomfortable wearing a spanish scarf there as i was with my portuguese one next to that angry man in that bar in seville, just one mile away from where the spanish keep their copy of the treaty of tordesillas. or maybe not. maybe he and everyone else thought me the example of the rule rather than the obvious exception: wherever you go, there's always that one sanctimonious portuguese. and of course the spanish always assume he speaks their language when they find him in their country -- or, for that matter, in his. it was, however, probably lucky for me that the spanish won, because that angry man might not have continued with the same gracious sportsmanship with which he congratulated me after the second period of overtime had the ultimate result of the match been different. he for sure wasn't interested in speculating over whispers. lucky for me, though, it ended with my speculation, and i was able to make an easy exit. i was okay. the portuguese like to grieve their bereavements anyway. and the spanish will keep making ronaldo rich. an appreciation of irony is better than any single victory, they'd say. so i wrote a note to myself to go to the archive of the indias to check out that treaty for myself. and afterwards i'd need to make sure to buy another scarf for the tournament final.