The body always gives it away. Yellow-jerseyed grown men were laying face-down in the rare green grasses of the desert. They burrowed their noses and foreheads a wee bit deeper down, as if hoping the stuff might grow up around them and hide them from their fate.
After fighting so damn hard and wading through the ethical swamps to get here, no one wants to leave Qatar. For now at least. But Ecuador must. And it was all too much for them as they tried to hide their tears in the blades of green but their bodies, shaking and shuddering with the sobs, gave it away.
Senegal’s wild delight and their band’s incessant drumming kicking it up one impossible notch more was the contrast because there has to be one. The yin yang of these days will be the norm the rest of the way for Qatar’s confounding, conflicting but, on the field, captivating World Cup.
