Today, Mexico played a crucial game against France. Again, the entire city paused to watch. For once, la selección played to their potential. When Mexico City's favorite son - the paunchy, slow, and still magical Cuauhtemoc Blanco - stepped up to take a late penalty shot that would clinch the victory, the bar hummed with nervous anticipation. As Blanco buried his shot in the net, the city erupted. The celebration lasted all afternoon, flags waving, horns honking, people shouting. Strangers knowingly smiled at one another. Even if in soccer terms it was, as a companion in Parque Mexico put it, "mucho ruido por poca cosa," for many people here it was a moment of national pride.
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