Golazo follows the history of Latin American soccer, although it is principally concerned with just three nations, Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay. Less successfully, the book links soccer to a continent's psyche. Sweeping in scope, Golazo flows from prehistoric Mesoamerican ball games to the Argentinian and Uruguayan import of the British game, and hundreds of tournaments, Olympics, and World Cups through 2010. Author Andreas Campomar writes smoothly, causing to pages to glide past like Pele, but from the perspective of a Uruguayan. A disproportionate portion of the book deals with Uruguay, the nation that won the first two World Cups and then declined.
The book suffers from its organization and vast scope. Campomar plies his ink on the Big 3 of South American soccer, with respectable focus on second tier teams Peru, Chile, and Colombia. Venezuela shows up only on the receiving end of 7-0 or 9-0 Brazilian and Argentinian tournament blow-outs. Central America is hardly mentioned and Mexico, the largest Spanish-speaking nation, is an after-thought, presumably because of its lesser successes than the South American powers, but I suspect the author's personal experience is a major factor. If your interest is Guatemala or Guadalajara Chivas, this is not the book for you. In fact, Golazo would not have suffered if it was formally limited to "South American soccer."
Countless games and legions of players have roamed the Latin American pitches. How much detail is interesting? The non-soccer fan will find the huge volume of score tabulations to be daunting and dry. The soccer purist may be frustrated that so many World Cup matches are reduced to a sentence or two. A less ambitious scope would have reduced the clutter and allowed for more focus on critical players and games.
The book failed in making a convincing argument about soccer driving Latin American national phobias. Does soccer reflect the host nation or does each country's culture adapt to its soccer? Campomar seems to conflate his Uruguay's frustrations with the rest of Latin America. Yet, after Uruguay won its two World Cups, Argentina would win two and Brazil five, including the most recent in 2014. When one thinks about it, any tournament has many entrants and only one winner. Is Uruguay really more frustrated than England, mother of the game and winner of just one Cup? What of Greece, Sweden, or any of the dozens of countries like Turkey, the USA, or the emerging African nations that cannot break through? Does on-field really matter that much to Latin American politics, culture and economics? Probably not.
I knew of Latin American fan violence, but Golazo taught about how widespread the hooliganism is, especially in Argentina. Players and referees have occasionally been murdered for disappointing fans. Argentinian fans have acted like animals for decades, although they are not the only ones guilty of stoning and throwing other projectiles at opposing players. In 1969, El Salvador and Honduras fought a "Football War", although, as the author points out, a disputed soccer game was just the spark that set off a volatile situation that probably was going to end in war, anyway. These and other stories- such as the Peruvian win over Aryan Austria nullified at Hitler's Berlin Olympics- were fascinating.