"Argentina, Campeón del Mundo"

Andrés Cantor

 

It goes against everything I believe. At least it usually does.

Sunday, many in the sports world were transfixed by the World Cup finale between France and Argentina. The French were the defending champions while the Argentines last won with an assist from "The Hand of God Goal" of Diego Maradona in 1986.

Andrés Cantor, the "GOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLL" blaring play-by-play announcer for Telemundo, was on the call of his ninth World Cup final.

Cantor moved to Southern California when he was a teenager. He was born in Buenos Aires. Which, of course, is in Argentina.

Nationalistic pride can be difficult to keep at bay, especially when the most important, most coveted trophy in your sports -- arguably any sport -- is there to be won. But the country you feel such pride for.

When I got into calling soccer, many asked if I would have a "Cantor-esque" goal call and, of course, you know that's just not my style. But it's his thing and it's indeed won him a large share of notoriety for it.

Until the 76th minute on Sunday, this was a fairly ho-hum affair. The Argentines built up a 2-0 lead and, as one knows, that can be a large deficit to overcome.

Can be.

In fact, by the time I turned on the match following basketball, I assumed I was there to watch Argentina and their legendary player Lionel Messi win the long-desired chalice. It felt like it would be a coronation.

Then, as you might know, France got a penalty kick. Kylian Mbappé, the French star, converted.

2-1.

I nodded. I figured we had a game. Yet, no panic. I went into the kitchen.

Seconds later, I couldn't hear any description from the TV. Just noise. Yelling, via the English language broadcast on FOX.

Mbappé again.

2-2.

Extra time coming.

You probably know the story from there. Messi scored. 3-2. Mbappé answered. 3-3.

Penalty kicks (not my desired way to resolve such things) would resolve this thing.

In the stadium, Cantor continued to ride the wave of the match. In fact, in a quote to The Athletic, he said: "Argentina was playing so well and we were just 14 minutes away (from winning)."

"We."

If you know me, that's fingernails on a play-by-play headset to me.

But, again, national pride.

Still: "We."

To his credit, Cantor still knew he had the responsibility to call the match fairly, including "GOOOOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLLL" ing it up when France scored.

And so, on to the PKs. Gonzalo Montiel had a chance to wrap up that long-sought-after World Cup title 36 years later.

In the booth, Cantor let loose after Montiel moved the back of the net. This is a translation of the call courtesy of Roberto Rojas on Twitter.

Roberto Rojas on Twitter

Now, I look at it this way: I keep coming back to national pride and, while that normally wouldn't settle me down, there's just something so different about this. Is the call my style? Oh, come on. I think we've already established that's not me. When you're from "The School of Scully," you believe in saying nothing. You make the call and get out of the way after the glorious crowd noise.

That, of course, was not how Cantor was going to do it. Instead, it was visceral, coming from his heart. He cried. Openly. That also would be considered a "no-no". but this is different from calling a World Series or even a Super Bowl.

This is like calling a World Series walk-off as if your own child did it and even that's not an apt comparison.

Even the "gatekeepers" of play-by-play (which I tend to act like at times) need to chill on this one and, overall, they (we) have because the praise for the call has been universal.

Look, I'll never knock passion. I've been telling students that for years. Always be passionate. 

It struck me so much that I finally got to play it on "Doubleheader" today after figuring out a way to produce it so my audience could hear it.

Not long after, the live video feed that I sent to Facebook went dead. I thought maybe I'd lost internet service.

Nope. Facebook's algorithm picked up that I had played Cantor's call and the underlings at FIFA ended the broadcast. I was still on the air on WGCH (and Robcasting) but scrambled to see if I could start another Facebook live session.

Nope. I was temporarily blocked.

I have since pulled the broadcast down completely from Facebook, hopefully getting me out of jail so that I may resume broadcasting tomorrow while passing "GO" and collecting $200.

But that's what Cantor's goal call meant to me. I wanted WGCH's listeners to hear it.

We can debate the frivolity of FIFA's copyrights some other time.

Or simply the frivolity of FIFA.

No, I would never advise a student to call this moment the way Andrés Cantor did. But here's the difference. He's Andrés Cantor. A legendary soccer play-by-play announcer from Argentina, calling a World Cup title for Argentina.

This was real. This was raw. His son and daughter were both in the stadium. This wasn't making it all about himself with some hyperbolic call. This was everything. This was the stuff you walk away on. This will be iconic.

There are exceptions to be made.