July 25th, 1993. Just a small bet(s)
With one tournament and one incredible win over Mexico under our belt, soccer began to look like another sport the Americans would quickly dominate. I was 13 years old at the time, and like most kids at that age, I knew it all.
Once again the tournament was the all so familiar to me CONCACAF Gold Cup, I say its familiar because for 2 years I was able to constantly remind my father who the current champion and grandmaster of all that is holy in North American soccer was, we owned Mexico!
This was the final match, and like all the other Mexico games during this tournament, Univision was set to televise it. As my father and I sat around on that Sunday afternoon waiting for the game to come on, we began taunting each other over what the score would be. In the matches leading to this, Mexico had all but annihilated its opponents from the world map, on one game vs Martinique, their striker Zague managed to score 6 times…. 6 times! The final score on that game was 9-0.
On another match they defeated Canada 8-0, to say these guys were still pissed over the loss to the Americans on the previous tournament was an understatement.
But I didn’t care, I knew better, I was up on all my soccer notes, just the year before we had defeated opponents like England, Portugal, and Ireland, we had this…
Of course what “La Opinion” had failed to mention was that the teams we had played were not necessarily The “A” squads for each nation, wish I knew that now.
As the match was set to kick off I bet my father 20 dollars that the US would beat Mexico, my father being the shady hustler that he was, responded with the “I don’t want to take your money” con. For anyone that doesn’t know this one, the “I don’t want to take your money” con is the oldest hustle in the book, so if anyone ever gives you that line, chances are they are the ones getting you to suggest a larger bet.
My father knew that I had almost $100 dollars to my name and therefore decided to up the ante and bet me $20 for every goal each team would score. Although I first cringed at the idea, my father proceeded to use what I can only refer to as “Mexican Jedi Mind tricks” and convinced me on going in on his con, as a 13 year old kid that at the time knew it all, the prospect of possibly getting the $30 more dollars I needed to buy the pair of Air Jordan’s I so badly coveted was too big for me to pass up.
Now most times this is the part where I break down the outcome of the game, but this game… Well, the Americans got their ass handed to them. It was exactly what Mexico said they would do, it was complete and utter annihilation. It was one goal after another, after another, after another…
To add insult to injury this was the game that the bastards at Univision decided to cover the post game for, there is nothing worse than that "Chiquiti bum a la bim bom bam" rally cheer, specially when that crook Carlos Salinas DeGortari (shady ex-Mexican president) is leading the chant, they must have done it about 10 times and every time they chanted it, my father would join the chant!
(watch end of video for evidence)
Although I wish I could take back the $80 dollars I lost on that match, at the end I would have gladly paid that in return for not having to listen to my father brag about the super power of North American Soccer that was Mexico... for over 2 years.