From time to time, the Petchary will feel compelled to write about one of her passions… Football. Yes, the World Cup is over, but the English Premier League is alive and well and, as usual, becoming more engrossing as Christmas comes onto the horizon. The Petchary has already declared her allegiance to a certain North London team, but has to take pause to celebrate the marvelous skill and engaging endeavor of Mr. Carlos Tevez, currently wearing that pale sky blue of Manchester City (like the Cambridge University colors – and as an Oxford graduate the Petchary takes exception to that particular shade). He was sold by the irascible Sir Alex Ferguson of Manchester United but is still living in the same brash Midlands city. And working wonders.
Now the Petchary also has to declare a great fondness for Argentine football – gritty, attacking, never say die. She was saddened by their sudden and unexpected loss to the squeaky clean Germans in the World Cup. But let us move on. There is something endearing about Mr. Tevez, who is now atop the list of Premier League strikers, having scored in almost every game he has played in so far. What a treasure he is.
Why is he so appealing? Apart from his obvious skills on the field, Mr. Tevez is no pretty boy. He doesn’t spend hours in front of a mirror, tweaking his hair with hair gel, like one of his former colleagues at Manchester United. In fact, until he was shorn recently (the Petchary disapproves of his very dull new haircut) his hair was extremely wayward, held in place with difficulty by an assortment of hair bands. Sometimes it hung down in greasy strands, as if he hadn’t washed it for weeks. Along with his thick black eyebrows, and most remarkably his mouth, full of teeth just a bit too large and crooked, he is not – nor ever could be – Mr. Glamorous. And the Petchary loves him just the way he is!
Did you know Tevez isn’t his real name? He was born Carlos Alberto Martinez in 1984 and grew up on a public housing complex – four tall high-rise buildings – in Buenos Aires nicknamed Fuerte Apache, after the gangster movie “Fort Apache the Bronx.” Much like some of Kingston’s neighborhoods named after battlegrounds, this tells you something about the neighborhood. Young Carlos’ nickname became El Apache.
You may also have noticed a really bad scar on Mr. Tevez’ neck. I learnt that it was actually from a childhood injury – he was scalded by boiling water in the kitchen. He could certainly afford to get cosmetic surgery done on it, but apparently he does not wish to, so that he does not forget his tough urban roots. We should never forget our roots, wherever we come from, should we?
What brings Tevez joy is his goals. It’s that look of sheer delight, his enormous crazy smile, and his uninhibited, almost childlike celebration that is infectious. Here he is, celebrating his second goal over newcomers Blackpool on October 18. Once again, those big teeth come in useful…
And a rather belated congratulations to the bustling, eager striker from Fuerte Apache: on the birth of your little daughter Katia, earlier this year. Life is good for Mr. Tevez.
Footnote: The only regret the Petchary has is that he was not snapped up by the (currently third place) team Arsenal, where her allegiance lies…When they had the chance. Sigh.
- Mancini hails ‘champion’ Tevez (skysports.com)
- Tevez stars as City go second (mirror.co.uk)
4 thoughts on “The Tremendous Mr. Tevez”
I usually don’t post in Blogs but your blog forced me to, amazing work.. beautiful …
His goals bring me joy too, especially watching his celebration ritual. Sincere happiness.