I stopped by the Pérez Art Museum Miami before coming here, and there was a Wilfredo Lam canvas — all tension and hidden forces lurking beneath the surface — which felt like perfect preparation for watching Ugarte and Enzo Fernández contest the midfield tonight. Argentina's engine room simply has too much quality and creative thrust for Uruguay to contain over ninety minutes, with Enzo orchestrating from deep and the movement ahead of him suffocating La Celeste's attempts to build. Uruguay will defend with the stubborn pride of a nation that lives for these rivalries, but a team that rarely threatens going forward cannot hope to silence a side generating this kind of attacking pressure indefinitely.

Argentina's midfield engine — led by Enzo Fernández — simply suffocated this match, generating eleven attacking sequences to Uruguay's none, and that level of territorial dominance in a neutral venue tells you everything about the tactical gulf between these two sides tonight. Uruguay's defensive block, with Giménez and Araújo organizing superbly around the sweeper zone, kept the scoreline respectable, but you cannot survive that kind of sustained pressure without conceding something. I tried baking a Cuban bread — the *pan cubano* that Miami's Little Havana made famous — and much like Uruguay's attack tonight, it had good ingredients but simply never rose the way it needed to.