Score!!!

Although many say Lopez is in charge of the lottery, he denies it: "We don't do that. ... I had it, but not anymore." He says "some people who come there" do it, but wouldn't name names. Tony Ramirez has been playing $40 to $100 every week, hoping to strike it big.

At halftime at the polo fields, and with his team down by one goal, Alianza Lima's coach Carlos Torres had not lost hope. Farolito had gotten off to a slow start this season. Some players blamed the uneven field, which diverts the ball at unpredictable angles and punishes a team used to the pancake-flat planes of a professional stadium. But towering sweeper Richardson Smith says it was partly ego: "We've been underestimating the rivals."

Farolito keeps the pressure on Lima in the second half. Guiñazu directs a high pass to Farolito's top-scoring forward, Rafa Gutierrez, who heads it straight through the goalie's legs. Gutierrez executes his signature scoring celebration, dropping to his knee like a knight, making the sign of the cross and kissing his thumb before jogging over to give Guiñazu a hug and slap on the back.

It's 2-0 to Farolito, and Lima's frustration builds. When the line ref calls offsides against Lima — Farolito is the only team that always puts down the extra $50 for the league to hire two line judges — one rowdy fan yells, "Farolito is going to give him five burritos!"

Torres takes a risk in the last 15 minutes, moving former pro Jaime Perez out of the goalie box where he'd made umpteen saves to his true post as a forward, hoping he'll score. Torres switches Perez with a man nicknamed "Vaca" — cow. ("He's kind of big," he explains.) As time runs out, Celia Cruz' "Life Is a Carnaval" pumps out of team El Salvador's speakers from the bleachers, and the Lima players get frantic. Farolito drives the ball down the field, Vaca dives or falls in anticipation of a shot, and, with an unmanned box, Salazar kicks in an easy goal. 3-0.

The game brings Farolito's record to five wins, three ties, and no losses; the team remains in first place. The victory adds fuel to a league truism. "People try to play well against us, but in the long run, we'll always win," Salazar says.

Torres comforts his flock: "It's okay, it's okay, you played well. ... Good first half; second half it went down a little bit. But with Farolito, it's not just any team."

After the game, Lopez talks about Farolito's future. He claims he'd sell his taqueria chain if his kids didn't want to run it, though that's unlikely, given that both his son, Santiago, and Guadalupe say they want to keep it in the family and expand past the current locations. But Lopez drops his nonchalance when talking about the team. In a rare expression of pride toward his soccer empire, he says he'd consider turning over the coaching to someone else, but Farolito will stay on the field. "Forever, as long as I can see and walk," he says. "We're always going to be there. This is like eating. You have to eat every day or work, the same."

With that, Lopez destroys the gossip that someday he'll tire of pumping out cash to win in a league few outside it care about. A day that "a lot of people are going to cry," his over-50 league teammate Ricardo Rodriguez says.

On the Alianza Lima sideline, forward Armando Ostorga complains about unfair refereeing. He claims a fist to the back from a Farolito defender sent him to the ground, but the ref didn't call a foul.

Not that Ostorga wouldn't consider deserting to Farolito if they'd invite him. He'd have to see about the price.