When the Clock Betrays You… Never Write Off Argentina


Through the day, there was only one topic of conversation. Argentina or England? By the time my wife and I had finished watching the latest episode of The House of Dragons, there were only a few hours left before the World Cup semi-final. We confidently announced that we’d catch a quick nap and wake up well before kick-off.

The alarm, unfortunately, had other plans. When the bedroom television finally came alive, nearly thirty minutes had already slipped away. My first reaction wasn’t about the score. It was guilt. Had we actually overslept for an Argentina-England World Cup semi-final? Thankfully, the scoreboard still read 0-0, and I immediately forgave both the alarm and myself.

What followed was football at its very best.  The game flowed from one end to the other like a pendulum that simply refused to stop. Messi was being shadowed wherever he went. Harry Kane was equally well marshalled. Every pass seemed contested. Every tackle carried purpose. By half-time, neither side had blinked. Then England struck. A beautifully crafted move. A superb finish. The silence that followed in our bedroom was broken only by my wife’s heartfelt groan. As an  Argentina supporter, she looked as though someone had just cancelled the World Cup. I was slightly more optimistic. Not because I possessed superior football wisdom. Simply because this Argentinian team had developed an irritating habit of refusing to read the script.

Still, the clock became increasingly unfriendly. Substitutions came and went. England defended bravely. Argentina attacked relentlessly. Even Lady Luck seemed to have swapped jerseys. Two glorious Argentine efforts crashed against the woodwork and bounced away, as though the goalposts themselves had decided to support England for the evening. Even Messi glanced skywards in disbelief.

Then, almost out of nowhere, came a moment of genius. One exquisite pass from Messi. One emphatic finish from Enzo Fernández. One nation breathed again. The equaliser transformed the match. England suddenly looked like a team trying to survive a storm rather than play football. Wave after wave of Argentine attacks followed, until, deep into stoppage time, Lautaro Martínez rose above everyone to head home the winner from another sublime Messi delivery. From despair to delirium in barely seven minutes.

As the celebrations began, my thoughts wandered to Harry Kane and the English players. They had played with courage, discipline and enormous heart. Sometimes football can be wonderfully unfair. It rewards ninety-five minutes of resilience with ninety seconds of heartbreak. Perhaps that is why we keep watching. Football reminds me that life is rarely decided when we think it is. We often mistake a difficult chapter for the final page. Champions don’t possess a magical immunity against adversity. They simply refuse to believe that the story has ended until the very last whistle.

And there was one final lesson from the night. Never trust an alarm clock before a World Cup semi-final. It may let you sleep.

In Musing…… Shakti Ghosal

Another night. Another World Cup. Another reminder that sport is often life, compressed into ninety minutes.


Just after midnight, my wife switched on the bedroom television.

“We’ll watch for a little while,” we told ourselves.

It was well past 2:00 a.m. when we finally went to sleep.

Some football matches don’t merely decide who reaches a World Cup final. They quietly dismantle the assumptions we carry into them.

Like millions around the world, I had convinced myself that France would find a way. Kylian Mbappé had been in breathtaking form throughout the tournament. The media had almost made it sound inevitable that France would be playing in the final.

But football has an inconvenient habit of ignoring predictions. Spain didn’t just beat France 2-0. They educated them.

From the opening whistle, Spain controlled the rhythm of the game as though they were conducting an orchestra. Rodri, Fabián Ruiz and Dani Olmo seemed to have all the time in the world. Every French pass near the Spanish goal arrived a fraction too late. Every misplaced touch was punished. Every attempt to speed up the game was calmly absorbed before Spain slowed it down again.

What impressed me most was not Spain’s goals. It was their patience.

In an age where everyone celebrates speed, Spain reminded us that control is often the greater strength. They never appeared hurried. They trusted the process, trusted each other and trusted the game plan.

Perhaps the most striking moment came after the final whistle. There were no excuses. Mbappé admitted that France had been outplayed. He spoke of the tactical shortcomings, the lack of communication, the technical mistakes and Spain’s superiority in controlling the midfield. It takes courage to win. It takes even greater courage to lose with honesty.

That, for me, was the lesson of the night. Spain didn’t produce magic. They produced mastery.

As I finally switched off the television sometime after two in the morning, I realised that the World Cup had once again offered a lesson far beyond football. The game does not always belong to the team with the biggest stars. Sometimes, it belongs to the team that plays the better game. And perhaps life works that way too.

In musing…… Shakti Ghosal

A Reader in Massachusetts and a Contest winner in Bangalore


Debangshu K Gangopadhyay from Massachusetts says ‘Hi’ to the Chronicler.

The Chronicler of the Hooghly has been getting excellent ratings on Amazon US.

Back in Bangalore, Anita Nair exults at winning the ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly’ contest.

Adjudged Book of the Month ( Mar ’21). Available worldwide on Amazon, Flipkart and Select Book stores.

http://www.shaktighosal,com

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October 2020 Challenge is here!


All ye ‘Chronicler of the Hooghly’ fans. Put on your thinking caps…. Ideate…. Create………. Share………… Win the Book!