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 has been denied twice and printed three times, which is the usual arithmetic. Until Daniel Frías signs something — a contract at Los Andes or anywhere else — this column belongs to him.
Wages have outrun income and the accountants have started attending meetings they used to send apologies to. Ambition comes second in a season like this.
Position 18 and 8 points, and the table gets read bottom-up in this part of town. The calendar has stopped being a schedule and started being a countdown.
Every manager keeps a short list in his head of the men he wants on the pitch when the stakes rise, and it is never published. The team sheets for the big afternoons say Tomás Benardoni is on it.
“I did not come here to warm up in front of people.” He is out of contract eventually, he is old enough to count the weeks, and Los Andes will have to give him a reason to stay or an exit.
In brief
SquadThiago Acuña is not doing himself any favours
Two or more conceded in each of the last 6 matches. It is not one mistake repeating itself, which would be the easier thing to fix; it is a different one every week.
Defending was optional and nobody took up the option. 12 goals between Los Andes and Mitre, and not one of the people who paid to be there will ask for the money back.
Wages have outrun income and the accountants have started attending meetings they used to send apologies to. Ambition comes second in a season like this.
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.
6 goals in one match, Tomás Benardoni on the scoresheet, and a scoreline that will look like a misprint. Neutrals could not have asked more of Los Andes and Estudiantes.
Nobody left the Los Andes dressing room in a hurry
The door stayed shut a long time after the final whistle. What was said in there is between them; whether it worked is between them and Saturday.
The dugout12 Aug 2030
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 1‑5 defeat, delivered by José Luis Suárez to a room that had heard them before.
Whether it was the goalkeeper or the ten in front of him is the argument that will fill every conversation in town this week. 5 saves does not settle it either way.
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.
Benjamin Carbajo 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.
Match18 May 2030
Nobody could stop scoring
6 goals. Both benches spent the second half looking at each other rather than at the pitch. Purists will complain about Los Andes and Mitre in equal measure; everybody else had a wonderful time.
5 saves does not settle the argument about whose fault it was, and the argument will run all week. Goalkeepers carry these scorelines whoever caused them.
It has stopped being a mood in the stands and started being something organised. Boards can ignore a bad atmosphere for a long time; they cannot ignore this stage of it for very long at all.
2 goals to the good, and then a slow surrender of everything that had been earned. Tomás Benardoni will not be the one blamed for it, but nobody at Los Andes escapes the conversation that follows a collapse like this.
“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.
8 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
There were 6 saves in it, and at least three that had no business being saves at all. The ten outfield players owe him a drink and they know it.
Player ratings25 Mar 2030
Up for the corner, and Thiago Acuña delivers — 7.00
Centre-halves are allowed forward twice a season and are judged on what they do when they get there. Thiago Acuña scored, was marked 7.00, and got back before anybody noticed he had gone.
Benjamin Carbajo 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 mood at Los Andes has turned into something else
Supporters who sing when it goes badly are supporters. Supporters who gather afterwards are a problem, and everybody inside the building knows which of the two this now is.
The board’s statement ran to three sentences and one of them mentioned results. José Luis Suárez has managed long enough to translate: win soon, or the next statement is shorter.
Nothing has been announced and everybody understands what it means. A board that summons the whole football department on a Tuesday morning is a board that has stopped believing the problem will fix itself.
Benjamin Carbajo 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.
A change in the dugout is not one story, it is twenty-five of them. This is Faisal Abdulrazaq's: he was somebody's player, and now he has to be somebody else's, starting from nothing.
Every manager keeps a short list in his head of the men he wants on the pitch when the stakes rise, and it is never published. The team sheets for the big afternoons say Iván Paniagua is on it.
The speculation has reached the stands, and the stands have answered. Los Andes would like this settled before it becomes the only thing anybody asks about.
It has been denied twice and printed three times, which is the usual arithmetic. Until Tomás Benardoni signs something — a contract at Los Andes or anywhere else — this column belongs to him.
Position 18 and 3 points, and the table gets read bottom-up in this part of town. The calendar has stopped being a schedule and started being a countdown.
Raúl Vázquez 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.
Another week, another link, another denial nobody quite believes. Los Andes know the market decides these things, not the back pages — but the back pages are louder.
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 Thiago Acuña trained the next morning like a man with less to carry.
What was a back-page story is now a matter for the terraces, and the terraces do not do nuance. Los Andes would like it dealt with before it becomes the only question anybody asks.
The run now stands at 17, and the questions being asked around Los Andes are no longer polite ones.
The terraces10 Sep 2029
The mood at Los Andes has turned into something else
Supporters who sing when it goes badly are supporters. Supporters who gather afterwards are a problem, and everybody inside the building knows which of the two this now is.
“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.
Centre-halves are allowed forward twice a season and are judged on what they do when they get there. Nazareno Fernández Colombo scored, was marked 7.95, and got back before anybody noticed he had gone.
“Nobody here is above being told.” It was not said with a name attached, but the dressing room can count, and so can everybody who was listening.
The dugout10 Sep 2029
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 José Luis Suárez to a room that had heard them before.
The mood at Los Andes has turned into something else
Supporters who sing when it goes badly are supporters. Supporters who gather afterwards are a problem, and everybody inside the building knows which of the two this now is.
“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.
Benjamin Carbajo 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: 16. 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.
“We were not good enough today and I am not going to dress it up.” José Luis Suárez after 0‑1, in the tone of a man who knows the next question and does not intend to answer it.
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.
The board have said in public what they had been saying in private. Results between now and the next meeting decide it, and everybody in the building knows the arithmetic.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
“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.
6 goals in one match, Tomás Benardoni on the scoresheet, and a scoreline that will look like a misprint. Neutrals could not have asked more of Los Andes and Patronato.
“Some mornings you wake up and you are still a long way from everything you know.” It is not the football and it never was; Los Andes are dealing with a man who wants a different country.
0‑3 to Racing, and it was every bit as bad as the number suggests. There are defeats you argue about and defeats you apologise for; this was the second kind.
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.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
Two or more conceded in each of the last 5 matches. It is not one mistake repeating itself, which would be the easier thing to fix; it is a different one every week.
Wages have outrun income and the accountants have started attending meetings they used to send apologies to. Ambition comes second in a season like this.
Benjamin Carbajo 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 mood at Los Andes has turned into something else
Supporters who sing when it goes badly are supporters. Supporters who gather afterwards are a problem, and everybody inside the building knows which of the two this now is.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Los Andes 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 Los Andes this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“We were not good enough today and I am not going to dress it up.” José Luis Suárez after 0‑4, in the tone of a man who knows the next question and does not intend to answer it.
In brief
Player ratingsAn own goal to forget for Elías Ortíz
SquadEzequiel Torres falls out with a teammate over standards
Position 18 and 3 points, and the table gets read bottom-up in this part of town. The calendar has stopped being a schedule and started being a countdown.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Tomás Benardoni provided it, and the 8.47 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
10 without a win is the sort of run that changes how a town talks about its club, and San Martín were the afternoon it stopped. Nothing is fixed by one result and everything feels different by one.
Julián Navas 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.
Defending was optional and nobody took up the option. 7 goals between Los Andes and San Martín, and not one of the people who paid to be there will ask for the money back.
He is 23 and the ground already sings his name, which is a thing that happens to local boys and almost never to signings. Everything from here is measured against an affection he did nothing to earn except be from here.
10 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
The board have said in public what they had been saying in private. Results between now and the next meeting decide it, and everybody in the building knows the arithmetic.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
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.
“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.
4 matches, no goals, and a training ground that has tried everything. It will end — droughts always do — but nobody at Los Andes can tell you which week it ends in.
Benjamin Carbajo 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.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the whole of the defence. 11 saves, several of them the kind nobody expects to see made, and ten outfield players who owe him a drink.
9 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
0‑3 to Gimnasia y Tiro, and it was every bit as bad as the number suggests. There are defeats you argue about and defeats you apologise for; this was the second kind.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
The chances are being made and something is happening between the making and the finishing. 3 matches now, and the anxiety in the ground arrives a little earlier every week.
Benjamin Carbajo 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 has stopped being a mood in the stands and started being something organised. Boards can ignore a bad atmosphere for a long time; they cannot ignore this stage of it for very long at all.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 9 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Los Andes will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
0-7. Going out of a cup is one afternoon; going out like that is a week of phone-ins, and the manager will hear every one of them.
Match18 Apr 2029
Nobody could stop scoring
7 goals. Both benches spent the second half looking at each other rather than at the pitch. Purists will complain about Los Andes and Boca Juniors in equal measure; everybody else had a wonderful time.
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.
Position 18 and 0 points, and the table gets read bottom-up in this part of town. The calendar has stopped being a schedule and started being a countdown.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Los Andes will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
6 without a win now, and the ground has developed the special quiet of a crowd that expects the worst. One scrappy 1-0 would cure most of it; that is the maddening part.
8 goals in one match, Mauricio Asenjo on the scoresheet, and a scoreline that will look like a misprint. Neutrals could not have asked more of Los Andes and Colegiales.
0‑3 to Estudiantes, and it was every bit as bad as the number suggests. There are defeats you argue about and defeats you apologise for; this was the second kind.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 7 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
The chances are being made and something is happening between the making and the finishing. 5 matches now, and the anxiety in the ground arrives a little earlier every week.
“I could talk about decisions and I could talk about luck. I will not. We lost.” The manager, 0‑3, and a press conference that lasted four minutes.
Squad9 Apr 2029
Words at Los Andes training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Ezequiel Torres 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.
In brief
The dugoutTomás Benardoni has become a man the manager trusts
0‑4 to Tristán Suárez, and it was every bit as bad as the number suggests. There are defeats you argue about and defeats you apologise for; this was the second kind.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
Wages have outrun income and the accountants have started attending meetings they used to send apologies to. Ambition comes second in a season like this.
The chances are being made and something is happening between the making and the finishing. 4 matches now, and the anxiety in the ground arrives a little earlier every week.
“I have tried. I have really tried, and every day I wake up in the wrong place.” Nobody at Los Andes can coach that out of a man, and nobody there is pretending to.
The mood at Los Andes has turned into something else
Supporters who sing when it goes badly are supporters. Supporters who gather afterwards are a problem, and everybody inside the building knows which of the two this now is.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 87 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“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.
Julián Navas 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.
“I could talk about decisions and I could talk about luck. I will not. We lost.” The manager, 0‑2, and a press conference that lasted four minutes.
Squad26 Mar 2029
Words at Los Andes training over how hard people work
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Ezequiel Torres 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.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 94 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
There is a particular warmth a ground reserves for a 23-year-old it feels ownership of. Franco Monla 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.
“We were not good enough today and I am not going to dress it up.” José Luis Suárez after 0‑1, in the tone of a man who knows the next question and does not intend to answer it.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Ezequiel Torres was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
A bone, which is the one injury with a calendar attached. Los Andes will name a return date and, unusually for this business, will probably be right about it.
There is a particular warmth a ground reserves for a 22-year-old it feels ownership of. Tomás Benardoni 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.
“We were not good enough today and I am not going to dress it up.” José Luis Suárez after 0‑5, in the tone of a man who knows the next question and does not intend to answer it.
Benjamin Carbajo 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.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the whole of the defence. 10 saves, several of them the kind nobody expects to see made, and ten outfield players who owe him a drink.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 108 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
3 matches, no goals, and a training ground that has tried everything. It will end — droughts always do — but nobody at Los Andes can tell you which week it ends in.
“If you cannot run for the shirt, somebody else will wear it.” No name was used and none was needed; every player in that room knew who it was for.
The dugout5 Mar 2029
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 0‑2 José Luis Suárez left the room before anybody could ask which.
Benjamin Carbajo 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 has stopped being a mood in the stands and started being something organised. Boards can ignore a bad atmosphere for a long time; they cannot ignore this stage of it for very long at all.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Los Andes will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“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.
The offer from Inter Turku for Tomás Benardoni 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.
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.