I awoke to the sound of barking dogs. It was dark outside, but a pair of colorful birds sat perched upon the the railing of our balcony. I reached over to check the time. 6:30, time to get up and head to The Golden Center for another Grand Prix.
I nudged Marc Calderaro, “It’s time to get up.”
“It’s still dark outside.”
The mild Buenos Aires Winter presents a pleasant temperature under dark cloudy skies. The days are short and the locals seem overdressed. Traditional smells of morning dew are accented with strong coffee as the Sun begins to rise.
We ventured out of the hotel and began our walk to the site. Stray dogs passed us by without a look. That’s my favorite part of Buenos Aires. The dogs. Huge, gorgeous, uncollared, and unexplainably clean canines stand watch on street corners and in local parks. Yesterday, during the day, I watched children chasing and playing with the dogs as if there was no possibility of incident. The few collared dogs you see aren’t bound by leashes; they walk beside their owners and nudge their faces against passing strays.
Eventually, we arrived at the site and set up our computers. I started translating winning grinder lists from the day before. I stumbled upon a name I recognized. Luis Salvatto, an Argentine, won the Super Sunday Series earlier this year and managed to earn himself a pair of byes in one of yesterday’s preliminary events.
I turned and looked out into a crowd of hundreds as I pondered the competing winds of potential and opportunity. There stood Salvatto. Waiting. Ready to defend his home turf.
Welcome to Buenos Aires!