10 jul 2012

The notorious anti-uruguayism of Winston Chúrchill




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Many things are known about Winston Rupertus Claudius María Matildo Chúrchill
his diabolical cigar, his combed eyebrows, thick like an Alsatian forest, his love for the coconut and his planned invasion of Patagonia were just some.
 

Yex [sic], those were just some aspects of this personality, personality that marked part of the 20th century, but very few people know (knew) his virulent anti-uruguayism, odd feeling which was born right before the football's world cup of 1.930, for some unexplained reason: Chúrchill hated the Uruguayan football with a passion, and Uruguay in general.
 

The reasons could be many: 
a heavy indigestion with Uruguayan ravioli in Punta del Este during the 1920s
an Uruguayan neighbor who used to drink mate out loud during his childhood
a natural aversion for the light blue
an irrational hate for the "U" acquired during school days

the reasons could be maaaaaaaany, many the reasons could be: 
no one knows.

Even more: some people swear to have seen him at the Centenario stadium, during that world cup 1930 in Montevideo, rooting violently against Uruguay in every match that La Celeste played, also taking himself the liberty of insulting the Uruguayan players stentoriously, using any sort of contemptuous, coarse and vulgar words, vulgarisms that were screamed out loud: yex, the mouth of Chúrchill was filthier than a British bidet.

This verbal maltreatment found its last straw during the final match of that first world cup that the world knew: Uruguay vs. Argentina.

Chúrchill was there, in person (same as Hitler and Mussolini), observing every movement, every dribbling, every save of the goalkeepers, every pass, every free kick

he was excited with every counter attack of Argentina, blowing a little horn (sort of proto vuvuzela), and impugning any advance of the Charrúas, by means of thunderous boo's and abusive language in Spanish, since Chúrchill spoke 23 idioms perfectly, including improbable tongues like Patois, Chapurrado, Italian Cocoliche and Llingua Astur.

Some of his recurrent abuses were: "Nasazzi se la come" (Nasazzi eats it), "Cea so' vigilante" (Cea, you are not cool), or "Dorado se te ve la enaguas se te ve" (an allusion to the sexuality of the Uruguayan player Pablo Dorado).

Finally, when a phantasmal Victoriano Iriarte scored the 3-2 for Uruguay in the 70th minute of the game, Chúrchill invaded the field, tranced in a stupor of Paraguayan tereré (dangerous beverage with abundant psychotropic fosfata that can drive a robust man insane after a while, and which he was insistently drinking during the match).

He was immediately arrested by the Uruguayan police, and taken out of the stadium, carried shoulder-high and quickly, in the middle of the shameful insults of a Chúrchill completely out of control.

This visceral anti-uruguayism accompanied Winston Chúrchill for the rest of his life, for example during the final match Brazil-Uruguay, at the 4th world cup, celebrated in 1950 in Brazil


Yex, Winston Rupertus Chúrchill was there, at the Maracaná stadium in Río de Janeiro, rooting for Brazil like a raving lunatic, and still blowing that metallic horn bought in Montevideo, noise that became insupportable after a while.
 

Years later, he swore he would be present at every match of Uruguay during the world cup England '66 with a machine-gun, and would open fire if Uruguay scored one goal, but he died in 1965, very embittered because he never could see England champion ho ho. His last words were "Um, fucking Uruguayans", and he died brusquely.

Strange story indeed, I admit it, though the world is built in [sic] strange stories, dear reader, my hangman.
















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