07 · 11 · 24

Women's Soccer: Tan cerca de las nubers, COPA 71

Rafael Aviña

I want to make it clear that I am not a soccer fan. Actually, I'm not too fond of it, even though as a child I played in children's leagues and followed the games of my favorite team: the Guadalajara during the time of Carlos and Nacho Calderón. I soon realized that professional soccer in Mexico, far from being a sport, is a business. Not only that, it is also an effective way to control the "good and wise people" who are easily influenced, both in the past and present. That is why the story behind Manuel Cañibe's Tan cerca de las nubes (2023), the winning documentary in the Michoacán Section of the 21st Morelia International Film Festival (FICM), is not only revealing but also goes beyond its main subject: women's soccer.

The film begins as a nostalgic tale about that "naïve" Mexico at the beginning of the seventies, where a group of young girls from modest social strata and a professor and sports journalist tell their story. It is a forgotten feat, buried not so much by historical memory, but by the decisions of men, in a patriarchal and macho country unable to bear not only that a handful of women who were not paid a penny were able to contribute more and better results in the so-called "man's game", but that they were transformed for a few weeks into idols of girls, boys, young people and adults.

No one would have imagined that a group of elderly women dedicated to their homes or small businesses, and showcased through their daily domestic routines, would captivate national attention and thousands of spectators in 1971 when the second Women's World Cup was held in Mexico, which the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA, for its Spanish acronym) never saw with pleasure. Manelich Quintero —who died during the filming—from his tribune as a sports promoter and columnist, explains how he played a crucial role in forming a national women's soccer team. This team was invited to the first improvised championship in Italy in 1970. That is how a group of young girls between 14 and 18 years old, with cheap uniforms traveled to Europe to defeat Austria 9-0 and England 3-2, only losing to the Italian team 2-1. This outstanding performance led Mexico to win third place.

Upon their return to the Mexico City airport, the girls were greeted with mariachis and hundreds of fans. As if that were not enough, they received unusual attention from the media and, as Tan cerca de las nubes shows, Guillermo Cañedo, the president of the Federación Mexicana de Fútbol [Mexican Football Federation] recognized the potential business opportunities and advocated for hosting second Women's World Cup in Mexico in 1971. However, the situation took a turn as coach Efraín Pérez was replaced by Víctor Manuel Meléndez, leading to a series of conflicts and hidden male interests coming into play.

Manuel Cañibe presented El silencio de la princesa (2014) at the 12th FICM. This film offers an intriguing look at actress Diana Mariscal exploring her impact on the media starting from Fando y Lis (1967) by Alejandro Jodorowsky. It delves into her sudden disappearance from the screens, leading to her apparent oblivion. The filmmaker, a graduate of the Centro de Capacitación Cinematográfica (CCC), takes a similar approach, albeit in a more collective manner, in another feminist narrative. This story is less harsh than the previous one but still sheds light on male tendencies of hiding and suppressing women's vibrancy and talent.

In the second women's soccer championship, held nearly three months after the tragic events of the "halconazo" on June 10, 1971, the young Mexican girls' team triumphed over Argentina 3-1 and England 4-0. They advanced to the final by defeating the Italian champions led by Elena Schiavo, then considered the world's best player, in a controversial and violent match that ended in a massive brawl. What happened next? Unconfirmed reports surfaced in the media alleging that the Mexican players requested two million pesos for their victories and popularity. Subsequently, the press initiated a campaign of harassment and discrediting. The girls, confined to their hotel and unable to train, were "visited" by two prominent players from the men's national team: Gustavo Peña, the captain, and Ignacio "El Fraile" Basaguren. They encouraged the girls to request money, knowing that as amateurs, this was an unprecedented notion.

With a still current record of 110,000 spectators (full house) at the Estadio Azteca with a paid ticket for a women's league match, the Mexican team arrived upset and without previous training, and was defeated 3-0 by Denmark, despite their honorable performance, compensated by the solidarity of the fans who never stopped cheering them on. Tan cerca de las nubes serves not only as a tribute to the "forgotten" players: Yolanda Ramírez, Elvira Aracén, Irma Chávez, Bertha Orduña, Lourdes de la Rosa Márquez, Patricia Hernández, Guadalupe Tovar, Alicia “La Pelé" Vargas, María Hernández, Silvia Zaragoza, María Eugenia “La Peque” Rubio, Martha Coronado, Sandra Tapia y Eréndira Rangel, interviewed here (including the Italian Schiavo) and posthumously to Paula Pérez, Teresa Aguilar y Elsa Huerta; but a subtle and shameful portrait of male envy unable to accept the ability of young girls and their true popularity over the males.

Those supportive and sensitive girls, who were labeled as "tomboys" or "kitchen runaways", amongst other macho nicknames, gave a lesson of will and empowerment over 50 years later, they inadvertently challenged, disrupted, and even humiliated the "spaces" and "virtues" that were "exclusively masculine". FIFA and the Federación Mexicana de Fútbol perceived this as an offense to their manhood and authority and as a problem of gender and control, leading them to suppress and undermine women's soccer intentionally. This suppression was not unique to Mexico but was a global issue as the interest in women's soccer grew worldwide, as depicted in Copa 71 (2023) by Rachel Ramsay and James Erskine, filmed at the same time as Tan cerca de las nubes, an insightful feminist story in Morelia.