Can you tell us what this day meant to you on a personal level? Do you have a favorite photo?
It wasn't a normal day, it wasn't a normal match. At noon, we were watching one of the most epic matches in history. I went to my friend Giuliana's house, the one I'd watched the entire World Cup with. I usually have a hard time watching soccer matches; I'm a Huracán fan, but this time I learned what suffering really is. I cried, I threw myself on the floor, I hid in the kitchen, in the bathroom, and finally, I went to my friend's bed and covered myself up to my head. From there, I heard France's last goal. I didn't have the energy to celebrate when we won the match; I celebrated by crying on the floor. No, I didn't see Messi lifting the cup. I had brought my camera, I ran to the subway (I took the last one that left, then it got packed) and I arrived downtown in 20 minutes. It was one of the happiest days of my life; I've never felt so inspired and joyful taking pictures. My country was celebrating, and I was there to capture it. My eyes were filled with magic: the colors of my country, my fellow countrymen celebrating and embracing each other in the streets. I walked the entire length of 9 de Julio Avenue and Corrientes Avenue and took the photos that brought me the most joy. I walked home, about 5 kilometers, and when I arrived, I watched the game again. I fell asleep watching Messi lift the trophy.
My favorite photograph is the one of the boy passionately waving the Argentina jersey; it's very representative of my country, being a football fanatic from a very young age.