17 June 2004. In the raging heat of Coimbra, Portugal, England are beating Switzerland 3-0 and Wayne Rooney is becoming the youngest player to score in a European Championship. In Buenos Aries, though, it scarcely registers. Every television is tuned into the Superclásico, River Plate v Boca Juniors, as a short, goblin-like footballer – scarred, broken-toothed, lank-haired – writes himself into the history of one of the sport's bloodiest rivalries.
It is the second leg of a Copa Libertadores semi-final and there are no Boca fans inside River's El Monumental stadium, banned from this stifling concrete bowl after years of riots, plastic bullets, teargas and deaths. Two minutes from time, Boca's barrel-chested striker scores what he thinks is the winner. He pulls his blue-and-gold shirt over his head, charges towards the section housing River's most feared barras bravas and starts to impersonate a chicken, pointing out his elbows, flapping his arms, pushing out his bum.
It is the most offensive gesture he could make. Boca sneeringly nickname River Las Gallinas (The Chickens) because of the way they choked in the 1996 final, turning a 2-0 lead against the Uruguayans Peñarol into a 4-2 defeat. The mood becomes poisonous. River's hooligans, Los Borrachos del Tablón (The Drinkers of the Stand) try to invade the pitch. A riot is avoided only because the offender is sent off, but as he goes there is a smile at the corner of his lips.
Six years on, Carlos Tevez's tribal instincts are, again, putting him in the centre of a neighbourly conflict. The Argentinian will not celebrate goals against his first English club, West Ham, out of "respect" but, let's be honest, whatever the police have said, whatever his employers want, he is liable to do anything if he puts the ball past Edwin van der Sar at Eastlands tomorrow.
In the blue corner of this divided city, he has become a hero, the player Manchester City took from United and who proved his point to Sir Alex Ferguson by scoring 28 goals (and counting) in his first season. Nobody is meant to make a mug of Ferguson but Tevez has got close. Or, rather, he has shown that the most successful manager in the business put his faith in the wrong man. Dimitar Berbatov does not deserve to be the only scapegoat but, in Rooney's absence, he has flopped badly. At Blackburn last weekend his hands were on his hips. The club's most expensive player: tired, exasperated, crushed.
When Roberto Mancini was asked today whether he was surprised United had not done more to keep Tevez he blew out his cheeks and held out his arms as if to say: "What do you think?" Mancini had tried to sign Tevez when he was at Internazionale and describes him, on current form, as being among the top three players in the world – a little over the top perhaps but, even so, there is a legitimate argument that if the Argentinian had stayed at United Chelsea would not be on the point of prising away Ferguson's grip of the Premier League trophy, finger by finger.
In the red corner, there is fear and loathing. When Tevez played at Old Trafford in September the reception was generally accepted to be the worst any ex-United player has received going back to the club. Tevez is now incorporated in a United chant remembering him as "that money-grabbing whore". Outside City's training ground a sticker is on view: "32 Judas" – strategically high enough to put it out of reach for anyone without a stepladder.
Not usually one to make any admissions of poor judgment, Ferguson has admitted in the last couple of years that he made a mistake selling Jaap Stam. Of Tevez, though, he refuses to accept what most United supporters now believe, namely that Rooney's absence through injury would not have been so devastating had the Argentinian still been at the club.
Ferguson's stance today was "no regrets". Maybe when he comes to writing the next autobiography he might admit a few, but he has also come to resent his former player deeply and, at times, seems to blame him in part for the infamous "Welcome to Manchester" billboard. Some of his off-the-record briefings have been laced with bile, though noticeably he has stopped questioning whether Tevez was worth the £25.5m fee City paid the consortium of businessmen who owned the player's registration.
The man himself was not supposed to do any interviews this week. Naturally, Tevez ignored the club's instructions. He did manage to keep to the party line in his Daily Mail offerings and made sure not to resurrect the war of words with Gary Neville, the player he has described as a "boot-licking moron", but he was as subtle as a sledgehammer when it came to talking about his own club.
The players, he said, were "not happy" with Mancini's habit of organising double training sessions. He said the club should not have sacked Mark Hughes – "the decision was taken with too much haste" – and he wished they had not put up the "Welcome to Manchester" billboard, even though he has previously said he has a framed copy at home in Buenos Aires. Mancini intends to ask for an explanation next week.
If Tevez carries on scoring, however, you get the feeling City will forgive him the odd indiscretion. On their website this week the club have been asking fans to choose the pre-match playlist in honour of their leading scorer because "he's been our talisman this season, and to celebrate that and say thanks for all he's done". The first two songs will be Lucky Man by the Verve and Time For Heroes by the Libertines. But it is the third that probably sums up Tevez best: the Prodigy's Firestarter.
