BEIJING, China - Brazil v. Argentina. Even at the Olympics, there's nothing amateur about the professional rivalry between these two countries, especially on the football pitch. So the last-minute offer to watch them play each other in the football semi-final couldn't be passed up, even if I was in the wrong part of town and there was only 15 minutes to kick-off. 

A familiar Olympic refrain: Brazil's football fans had little to cheer about against Argentina.

I'd arrived in the city only a few hours earlier, but sure enough had found taxis to be cheap and plentiful, but myself bearing-less and armed only with a few words of mandarin and a shabby map.

Flagging down a passing cab, I pointed to the stadium on the map. The driver grabbed it, squinted so hard at it he looked pained before saying "bye bye", deciding he couldn't make out the detail of where I wanted to go. Better to find another taxi than be propelled through the streets by a myopic cabbie.

There was more success with the next cab who swept through the streets and within minutes we were in the back of a traffic jam crawling up to the stadium that was already packed with fans. I intimated we should follow the police car, lights flashing, that was slicing through the congestion. A ruefully smile and shake of the head; it was time to make a run for it. 

I was slowed by gaggles of elderly locals practicing their ballroom dancing on the pavement slowed me down. As unexpected as they were sprightly their two-step meant I had to cha-cha around them, making my entrance to the stadium coincide with the referees whistle for half-time.

There was no samba-beat in the second half, as Argentina eventually romped to a 3-0 win, but there was a whole lot of enthusiasm from the crowd. The Workers Stadium really was where South American football fans of the world were united.

Football demi-god Diego Maradonna was in the crowd, too, and a roar went up when the little chap was shown on the big screen - an uneasy smile on his face, he was either very excited or going to vomit, or both.

The cheers for Argentina's goals from the 50,000 supporters probably would have been just as loud if the score had been the other way around, but even in defeat the few Brazilians in the crowd did what Brazilians do best, and carried on enjoying themselves.

Not so, Brazil's Ronaldinho, who looked befuddled and depressed after the final whistle; he'd been eclipsed by Argentina's young maestro, Messi. Maybe the Brazilian playmaker had seen the geriatrics outside the stadium display better footwork, as well.