“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Defensa y Justicia have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Defensa y Justicia this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. César Pérez is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
The injury that keeps coming back, keeps being rushed back from, and quietly costs more careers than the dramatic ones. 16 days is the estimate; the honest figure depends on whether anybody is patient.
“I did not go to Independiente to sit and watch. I want to come back to Defensa y Justicia and fight for my place.” 5 appearances in 43 matches say the rest.
The manager has re-ordered his thinking and Facundo Echevarría has come out of it lower. He will be told it is temporary, and the players who have heard that before will avoid his eye.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at Defensa y Justicia, and both men came out saying it was fine.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Defensa y Justicia have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Defensa y Justicia can pretend not to have heard.
Nazareno Funez was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Ezequiel Cannavo was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
“I was told straight, and I would rather have it straight.” The manager at Defensa y Justicia has been clear about where Manuel Insaurralde stands, which is more than many ever get.
It is never announced and it is entirely visible: the biggest afternoons of the season keep containing him. A press box works this out long before anybody at the club confirms a word of it.
In brief
The dugoutLautaro Amadé knocks on the manager's door
7 matches now without a victory, and the excuses have worn thinner than the patience. Somebody at Defensa y Justicia has to find a result from somewhere.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Defensa y Justicia, and it is not being withdrawn.
Nazareno Funez and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“The supporters are entitled to be angry. So am I. We will put it right.” 1‑2, a manager saying the necessary things, and a dressing room that heard a different version of them.
Every touch weighed, every quote parsed, every mistake replayed. Some players grow into that; some are quietly finished by it; nobody knows which until afterwards.
6 matches now without a victory, and the excuses have worn thinner than the patience. Somebody at Defensa y Justicia has to find a result from somewhere.
17 clean sheets from 32 appearances at Nueva Chicago. That is the whole of a goalkeeper’s job done properly, and it is being done a long way from the club that owns him.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“I did not go to Espanyol to sit and watch. I want to come back to Defensa y Justicia and fight for my place.” 1 appearances in 10 matches say the rest.
“There are things I liked and things we will be doing on Tuesday until they are right.” 0‑0, and a manager who had already decided what Tuesday looked like.
The words a physio says slowly. 25 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
A shoot-out is remembered by its ending, and this one ends with Cristopher Fiermarin: 1 kept out, and a set of supporters who will describe every one of them for the next twenty years.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Defensa y Justicia have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
The deadline has passed and the squad is the squad. 0 arrived, 4 left, and everything else printed about this club last month was a rumour that stayed one.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Defensa y Justicia can pretend not to have heard.
Nazareno Funez and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
74 days on the announcement, and a year of quiet, unwatched rehabilitation behind it. Los Andes lose a player for a season; he loses something harder to name.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Los Andes, and it is not being withdrawn.
Successful dribbles: 20. He went past people as if he had been told there was a prize for it, and by the end the full-back had stopped pretending to try.
200 games in the shirt. Nobody sets out to build a record like that; it happens to a certain kind of player at a certain kind of club, and this town knows what it has.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Daniel Franco was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
The dugout21 Jun 2027
The manager’s verdict
“That is on me. I pick the team and I picked wrong.” Managers say that when they mean it and when they need to be seen to, and after 0‑1 Bruno Villalba left the room before anybody could ask which.
95 days on the announcement, and a year of quiet, unwatched rehabilitation behind it. Los Andes lose a player for a season; he loses something harder to name.
Nobody upstairs has said anything, which is the loudest thing they could do. Results buy silence in this game; the account at Los Andes is running low.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Los Andes, and it is not being withdrawn.
Brian Leizza and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
A 1‑0 win over Tristán Suárez, earned rather than given, and the sort of afternoon that sends everyone home talking about next week instead of this one.
200 games in this shirt, through managers and relegations and everything else. Service like it is disappearing from the game and the crowd knows what it is watching.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Daniel Franco was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
Successful dribbles: 18. He went past people as if he had been told there was a prize for it, and by the end the full-back had stopped pretending to try.
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Los Andes, and it is not being withdrawn.
Racing left with the points after a 1‑2 defeat that will take some explaining on the terraces.
Squad29 Mar 2027
Words at Los Andes training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Daniel Franco is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
“I pick players who do the work. All of it.” No name was spoken; every camera still turned to Matías Gómez, and the manager let it.
The dugout29 Mar 2027
The view from the dugout
“We will look at it, we will learn from it, and we go again.” The three sentences every manager keeps for a 1‑2 defeat, delivered by Bruno Villalba to a room that had heard them before.
Successful dribbles: 12. He went past people as if he had been told there was a prize for it, and by the end the full-back had stopped pretending to try.
16 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and Güemes were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Los Andes can pretend not to have heard.
Brian Leizza and a teammate said things this week that will take longer than a week to unsay. It was not about football, and both of them play on Saturday.
A 2‑1 win over Güemes, earned rather than given, and the sort of afternoon that sends everyone home talking about next week instead of this one.
Squad15 Mar 2027
Tomás Díaz falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
“We earned that. I asked them for a reaction and I got one, and now I want the same again on Saturday.” Bruno Villalba on a 2‑1 afternoon that pleased him more than he was prepared to show.
A bad atmosphere can be waited out. A group of people meeting afterwards to decide what to do about it cannot, and everybody in the building knows which stage this is.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Los Andes can pretend not to have heard.
Brian Leizza and a teammate went at it, and not about football. Training grounds are small places and a long season makes them smaller.
Squad22 Feb 2027
Words at Los Andes training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Matías Gómez is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
There is a figure at which a wage bill stops being ambitious and becomes the reason nothing else is possible, and this club has reached it. Nothing is left over for a transfer, a stand or a rainy afternoon.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Los Andes this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Squad14 Sep 2026
Daniel Franco falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
A 1‑1 draw with Güemes leaves the dressing room somewhere between relief and regret.
The dugout14 Sep 2026
The manager’s verdict
“I am frustrated, honestly. We did enough to win and we did not win.” Bruno Villalba was not hiding it after 1‑1, and nobody in the Los Andes dressing room was either.
Maipú next, and one man in the Los Andes dressing room knows their training ground better than his own. The reception will tell him what they thought of him.