Читать книгу Unforgettable Soccer - Luciano Wernicke - Страница 14

In 1978, the Cali Sports Association of Colombia achieved an unprecedented milestone for their country: reaching the final of the Copa Libertadores. Led by Argentine Carlos Bilardo, the squad—which had already surprised everyone by reaching the semifinal in 1977—forged an excellent campaign after prevailing in their group stage against their compatriots Club Deportivo Junior of Barranquilla and the Uruguayans Peñarol and Danubio Fútbol clubs.

In the round-robin semifinals, Deportivo Cali was undefeated after playing Alianza Lima of Peru and Cerro Porteño of Paraguay, two very good clubs. But, in the 180 minutes of the two-legged final, “the Greens” could not do much before the greater experience and remarkable efficiency of the Argentine team Boca Juniors. First was a goalless draw in Cali. This was followed by an unquestionable 4-0 in Buenos Aires which gave the “Xeneixe” (“Genoese,” as Boca fans and players are called), coached by Juan Carlos Lorenzo, their second consecutive continental title.

In his autobiography Doctor and Champion, Bilardo narrated a curious situation that occurred during the second leg in La Bombonera, home of the back-to-back champion: “From that second leg of the final of the Copa Libertadores I was left with something that shows that ‘Toto’ Lorenzo was a genius, an incredible guy. When we played against Boca at La Bombonera, Diego Umaña, from our team, a specialist in corner kicks, did not make any of them reach the penalty box. When the first half was over, I asked him: ‘Diego, what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you sending the corner kicks to the penalty box?’ ‘Mister,’ he answered, ‘there’s a dog that will not let me kick.’ ‘A police dog?’ I inquired. ‘Yes. Every time I went to the corner flag, I had him on top, he stuck to me. He wanted to eat my leg! So I couldn’t kick well,’ he said. A few days later, when I watched the video replay of that game very carefully, I noticed that Umaña had not lied: Every time we had a corner kick in our favor, the policeman who controlled the dog would let go a bit of rope. There was no place to take a run to the ball! Above all, the dog was very fierce, he barked and threatened to bite poor Umaña. Then, I understood why Diego, with good sense, would have chosen to throw bad corner kicks before leaving the field with one leg less. The ‘Toto’ was very crafty. A genius!”