I’m sitting in a hotel bar in Mazamitla, Mexico. I’m watching Mexico play Argentina in the part of the world cup tournament that matters, and Mexico is losing 3-0.

Outside, the plaza is empty, save for one family watching an impromptu dance recital from a girl of roughly 8. Even the birds and insects have gone silent.

Update: Mexico lost, but saved some dignity with a late goal. The people eating with me seemed disappointed, but much less than I expected. Much less, in fact, than Americans I know seemed to feel about the loss to Ghana. The waiters were very pleased by Mexico’s goal, but I feel like they came into this event with reasonable expectations about the chances of their equipo against Argentina. Later a gentleman who is trying to sell me something empathizes with me the sad lot of both our teams.