For many, maybe most Argentines, this World Cup was a supernatural affair.

For us, soccer is a religion.

And what is religion without its rituals?

Yes, the World Cup was won by a group of talented young players, but behind them, there were legions.

Massive amounts of fan rituals, prayers and sorcery,

brujerias, walichos, limbeas, cabalas.

Did it work?

Like my grandmother used to say,

I have no proof, but I also have no doubt.

Okay. to say. I have no proof, but I also have no doubt. Pictures of soccer legend Diego Maradona surrounded by candles and offerings, food, alcohol,

even cigarettes for his spirit to enjoy. Erbs were burnt. Requests for our folk saints flooded in.

El Gauchito Hill, an Argentine cowboy turned popular saint.

La Diffunda Correa, an Argentine woman who died while attempting to cross a desert.

Their shrines were filled with requests.

Bring us a victory. Bring us a victory.

Bring us the cop.

Help guide our boys' feet.

The phrase Anulomufa became a constant.

In local slang, it means something like,

I hex your hex.

Or, I cancel your curse. I also became entangled in the frantic magic. I lit candles.

I listened to certain folk songs on repeat. I walked in the rain a sacrifice, although I admit I was on my way to get a cheeseburger.

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