Qualification is secured, and next season the big floodlit nights are continental ones. For the players it is a stage; for the accounts it is a lifeline; for the supporters it is passports.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Lanús will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
The kind of year that ends with a name being read out in a hall. Lanús had the benefit of it every week and now have the problem of everybody else knowing.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Dylan Aquino 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.
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.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Lanús will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
Nahuel Losada 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.
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.
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.
“Thirty minutes, door closed, everything said. We shook hands after.” Whatever was in the room stayed in the room, and Eduardo Salvio trained the next morning like a man with less to carry.
It has been denied twice and printed three times, which is the usual arithmetic. Until Dylan Aquino signs something — a contract at Lanús or anywhere else — this column belongs to him.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 134 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
31 days on the announcement, and a year of quiet, unwatched rehabilitation behind it. Lanús lose a player for a season; he loses something harder to name.
2 goals to the good, and then a slow surrender of everything that had been earned. Yoshan Valois will not be the one blamed for it, but nobody at Lanús escapes the conversation that follows a collapse like this.
Player ratings26 Apr 2027
Jeremías Chavero, 20, plays like he has been here for years — 8.46
A mark of 8.46 means one thing beside a twenty-nine-year-old's name and something else entirely beside a 20-year-old's. Nobody at the ground needed telling which this was.
Nahuel Losada 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.
There is a particular warmth a ground reserves for a 20-year-old it feels ownership of. Jeremías Chavero has it now, and everything he does for the rest of his time here will be measured against the goodwill he was handed for free.
In brief
Player ratingsNinety minutes of Bruno Cabrera at his very best
Player ratingsNinety minutes of Yoshan Valois at his very best
Player ratingsMarcelino Moreno was on a different afternoon to everybody else
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason San Martín will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what San Martín can pretend not to have heard.
Kevin López 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.
Boardroom28 Dec 2026
166% of the income goes out in wages at San Martín
Every club in football pays most of what it earns to its players. Paying nearly all of it is a different arrangement, and it has ended the same way every time somebody has tried it.
The name of Alan Cisnero has come up in conversations San Martín were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
Squad28 Dec 2026
Words at San Martín training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Ezequiel Parnisari 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.
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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 83 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
The words a physio says slowly. 22 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.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” San Martín 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 San Martín this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
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.
Boardroom30 Nov 2026
177% of the income goes out in wages at San Martín
Every club in football pays most of what it earns to its players. Paying nearly all of it is a different arrangement, and it has ended the same way every time somebody has tried it.
Nobody at San Martín will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 112 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Kevin López 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.
Squad2 Nov 2026
Words at San Martín training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Facundo Pons 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.
The manager has re-ordered his thinking and Nicolás Ferreyra 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.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason San Martín will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at San Martín this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Nicolás Castro was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
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.
The award is a small thing with a heavy meaning: for four weeks nobody in this division did his job better. San Martín have the trophy on a shelf and the player in the side.
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.
“It had gone on long enough. I would rather have it out than leave it sitting there.” Ten minutes behind a closed door at San Martín, and both men came out saying it was fine.
“The manager did not use many words, and he did not need to.” Matías García has his answer from San Martín; what he does with it is the next window’s story.
“I listened, I thought about it, and I am staying. That is the whole story.” The clubs had agreed a fee. Juan Orellana had not agreed to go, which turned out to be the part that mattered.
It finished 0-4. A cup exit is a disappointment; this was a public dismantling, and the difference between the two is the number of people who will still be talking about it in August.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the whole of the defence. 6 saves, several of them the kind nobody expects to see made, and ten outfield players who owe him a drink.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at San Martín this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Nicolás Castro was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
At 23 he is being sung about by people twice his age, which is an affection a signing has to earn over years and a local kid gets for turning up. It is also the hardest thing in football to live up to.
A 1‑0 win over Rosario Central, a place in the next round, and the quiet arithmetic every supporter does on the walk home: how many more until a final?
The board had gone up, the arguing had started, and then the ball was in the net in the 119th minute. Rosario Central will replay every second of the added time for a week.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what San Martín can pretend not to have heard.
The offer from Persik for Tiago Peñalba was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
The phone has started ringing about Santiago Briñone again, and this time the name on the line is Lumezzane. San Martín are listening politely and promising nothing.
Marcos López 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.
It is the most legitimate ambition in the sport and the hardest for most clubs to satisfy. Rodrigo Ayala wants continental football; whether San Martín can provide it is a question about the next two seasons, not about him.
7.56, 1 on the scoresheet, and the specific comedy of a back-four player celebrating like somebody who does this every week. He does not, and that is exactly why the ground reacted the way it did.
Marcos López 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.
Successful dribbles: 22. 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.
Squad10 Aug 2026
Words at San Martín training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Facundo Pons 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 particular warmth a ground reserves for a 23-year-old it feels ownership of. Bruno Cabrera has it now, and everything he does for the rest of his time here will be measured against the goodwill he was handed for free.
The phone has started ringing about Aníbal Paz again, and this time the name on the line is Persebaya. San Martín are listening politely and promising nothing.
There is no fee, no unveiling and no agent on the steps. Bautista Silva has been at this club since he was a boy and is now, formally, one of the first-team squad — which for a local readership beats any signing of any size.