Argentina breeze past Mexico thanks to two goals from Carlos Tevez, the first scored from an offside position, the second a moment of explosive brilliance.

Argentina's Carlos Tevez celebrates after scoring against Mexico Photograph: Enrique Marcarian/REUTERS

6.55pm: Preamble: Hello and welcome to what I can only hope will be defiantly light-hearted and optimistic commentary on what is an intriguing last 16 game. Feel like a change of pace from all that frantic Northern European hoof-punt Hollywood-pass counter-attack blitzkrieg-launch wild flailing scuffled high-stepping knee-pumping chest-out bicep-flexing wild yelping 150%-giving blood-on-the-shirt-spilling crazed fist-pumping-team-talk-giving humped to the back stick flicked on by the big man six-man wrestling match by the corner flag malarky?
Me too.

6.59pm: Instead of all that, here we have a refreshingly Latin-ate affair. Possession will, most likely, be nurtured. Small, wily men will shuttle silkily sideways. Openings will be teased. The ball will be kept for longer than five frantical eye-bulging seconds.

And also Argentina will be tested properly for the first time. I have already been mocked by some members of this organ's online community for suggesting Mexico have a chance tonight. I'm still not sure why: Mexico are a solid team with pace on the flanks. Perhaps they lack a really deadly forward. But Argentina have definitely got a stuff-up in them somewhere. They are not a flawless machine, but instead an optimistic team built on its forward strengths and the belief in setting out attempting to win rather than avoiding defeat.

With England out, I could quite happily follow either of these two (gone off Holland; and unmoved by all the urgings to support Ghana solely for reasons of African-ness).

7.10pm: Sarah Rothwell notes:" I'm guessing they're talking about his jumping ability, but I still can't visualize Oscar "El Conejo" Perez as a rabbit. Maybe he's taken to asking "What the #$@% up with this Doc?" because his sub on the bench (and predecessor) has all the big name endorsement deals if the ads on Univision are anything to go by." I think it's the teeth. He is a peculiar specimen: oddly chubby-looking but still massively agile. It's a neat combo.

7.13pm: Lovely shots of Maradona waltzing off the team bus like a small, sweating, nimble-footed, oiled and mulletted gaucho good time boy. He seemed to be singing something. The man is having an extremely good time.

7.18pm: Here the teams:
Argentina: Romero, Demichelis, Burdisso, Heinze, Otamendi, Di Maria, Mascherano, Maxi, Higuain, Messi, Tevez
Mexico: Perez, Rodriguez, Salcido, Marquez, Osorio, Juarez, Torrado, Guardado, Hernandez, Giovani, Bautista
So Hernandez of Manchester United stars in favour of the sorry Blanco. And Messi, Tevez and Higuain will scamper with purpose up front for Argentina. What a wonderful attack that is, with Di Maria behind them too.

7.22pm: Very glad this game is on now - and with these two teams. There is always an odd deflation when England go out, even when they absolutely deserved it and were nothing but tournament also-rans. Hopefully a nice cleansing of the palate is in store. The players are walking out to the weirdly childish World Cup oompah-style anthem. Argentina have the carefree swagger of a group of men off out on their way to a night club.

7.24pm: Anthems. Maradona looks tearful and, peculiarly, as ever a lot like my equally well-groomed and piously chubby-faced Hungarian grandmother. the Mexican anthem is as ever a foot-stomping Sergio Leone Western-inflected joy.

7.27pm: Ramya Mohan notes: "I removed Messi from my fantasy teams- surefire way of getting him to score". He seems due, the scamp. Mexico will be extremely tight on him in midfield. I imagine they will try to keep it scoreless for a bit.

7.29pm: On Maradona resembling family members Raj Datta writes: "The day after The Goal my dad (then 55) got a call from a longlost friend from college days - who had called to say Maradona looked, and PLAYED like Dad." I'm glad it's not just me. Anyone else?

1 mins: Mexico kick off and, oddly attempt a kind of mid-1990s Premier League punt down the left wing. It doesn't work. It looks like Marquez is on Messi, just in front of the back four. He wins the ball and tries to feed the scampering sulky teenage girl-a-like Dos Santos, but it runs out of play.

3 mins: Mexico keep the ball for a bit, scuttling neatly in midfield. They look agreeably bandy-legged in

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