My dad’s from Oxford and I grew up there. But here’s why (unlike my England-supporting brother) I’ll be cheering for Argentina tonight, says VANESSA BELL

It is billed as one of the greatest grudge matches ever witnessed in international football. And for good reason.

Falklands War, Hand of God, Beckham v Diego Simeone (remember the time at the 1998 World Cup when Becks reacted angrily after being fouled by the Argentinian, kicking the player who pretended to collapse, earning the England midfielder a red card and being widely vilified at home).

Although England and Argentina have disagreed for decades on the rights and wrongs of political and sporting differences between the two countries, this match will divide my family.

Because when Lionel Messi, ‘Dibu’ Martinez, Julián Alvarez and the rest of the Argentina squad line up to sing their national anthem tonight, I too will sing my heart out with them and their 45 million citizens from a bar in Buenos Aires.

Meanwhile, my younger brother Matthew (43) will be screaming ‘football is coming home…’ and cheering on Jude Bellingham’s piercing runs and Harry Kane’s decisive headers.

So whose loyalty is the truest? We were both born in England and grew up on the same diet of baked beans, marmite, rhubarb cake and pudding.

My father, a doctor and Olympic fencer from Oxford, and my mother, a teacher and aspiring actress from Buenos Aires, met in Paris in the late 1970s.

My first few years were spent living in cosmopolitan Montparnasse in Paris, where my father worked at the American Hospital.

In 1985 we moved to the quiet English village of Dinton in Buckinghamshire. I was five years old and even now I remember the feeling of being out of place and wanting to be accepted by my peers.

It was during the 1986 World Cup that I first considered my Argentinian heritage. Watching my homesick mother support her country’s team, nail-biting match after nail-biting match, had a huge impact on me.

We experienced the drama of that fateful match against England in the quarter-final together; Maradona’s controversial goal was quickly followed by the Goal of the Century, an act of individual brilliance that sent England out of the tournament.

My mother was very happy when Argentina won the cup. In beautiful Dinton, which is as English as it gets with its 12th-century church and village green, Maradona’s iconic pose as he lifted the trophy above his head moved him to tears.

I was fascinated. This was the beginning of my unwavering support for Argentina.

Our mother spoke to us in Spanish with a porteño (from Buenos Aires) accent, sang traditional nursery rhymes, prepared family recipes, and introduced us to her passion for Argentina.

Since his relatives did not speak English, we had to speak Spanish. Language was his way of connecting us.

We would count down the days until we could go to visit family in the Argentinian capital, usually during the Christmas holidays, happily leaving the dreary English winter behind and showing off our exotic tan to our schoolmates when we returned.

My brother was born in 1982, the year Argentine troops occupied the Falkland Islands.

My mother remembers the cold reception when crossing the border into England during and immediately after the war. I remember my parents discussing the conflict at home, hating Margaret Thatcher’s decision to torpedo ARA General Belgrano.

For Argentina today, the Falklands War is not over yet.

Sovereignty claims over the islands remain, and the Malvinas, as they are known there, are everywhere; Sketches of the islands were emblazoned on T-shirts and road signs, tattoos were made on ballot boxes, and the slogan “The Argentinian son of Las Malvinas” (Las Malvinas is the Argentinian) was pasted on the sides of buses.

To many Argentinians, Britain and Thatcher represent everything that is anti-Argentinian and unpatriotic, although this often reflects a political sentiment rather than a concrete dislike of the British people.

In fact, there has always been a great appreciation and love for British culture and traditions.

Many send their children to bilingual English schools, focus on bands like The Beatles and Oasis, and have a particular obsession with the Rolling Stones.

My brother and I moved to London and while he was up and running, to me it felt hostile and crazy and I was trapped on a hamster wheel.

I had toyed with the idea of ​​moving to Argentina for a long time, and on the eve of my 30th birthday – 16 years ago – I bit the bullet and left.

I was struck by the warmth and openness of Buenos Aires. People here work to live and don’t need any excuse to socialize. In Argentina, sobremesa (after-dinner conversation) is a religion, and spending Sunday lunch with friends and family is sacred.

Shortly after arriving, I applied for Argentine citizenship and started teaching English. I became a freelance writer for international media and founded a successful concierge service called Creme de la Creme, creating tailored tours and itineraries in Buenos Aires for discerning tourists.

Drawn to the warmth and open air of Buenos Aires, Vanessa moved there 16 years ago.

When Argentina beat Switzerland 3-1 on Sunday and knowing they would face England in the semi-finals, Argentine coach Lionel Scaloni immediately insisted: ‘This is a football match. ‘Let’s not read too much into it.’

But for countless Argentinians, it is much more than that. For many, this is an open wound that will not heal, a pain to be endured. It’s even seen as a way to honor the veterans who fought in that war.

Meetings and social events have been postponed until the weekend. Schools and offices will close early.

There is an atmosphere full of expectation in Buenos Aires, the tension is palpable. Children in the park are frantically switching football cards in the hope of scoring a goal for Messi. Blue and white flags adorn the streets, store windows and car windshields as patrons of the local pizzeria heatedly debate tactics.

People here are extremely superstitious, and many have their own rituals (called kabbalahs) that they actually believe can influence outcomes.

He sits in a certain spot on the couch, wears the same clothes, goes out at halftime to buy cigarettes. In fact, Visa Argentina’s World Cup ad campaign sees midfielder Rodrigo de Paul reminding people that he brings good luck.

My reasons for supporting Argentina these days are linked to feelings of gratitude to my adoptive country.

For over 16 years, I have developed and succeeded in my career, pursued my dreams, and started a family with my Argentinian partner.

So tonight, I’ll hold my lucky Messi sticker and sit at the same table in the same neighborhood bar as I do for all of Argentina’s matches. I’m not taking any risks.

As for our bilingual four-year-old son, Messi and the Argentina team have captured his heart.

I’m expecting some friendly banter between my brothers via text, and if they come out victorious I’ll naturally raise my glass to England. But for the sake of my loyalty to Argentina, I cannot cheer on your heroes. Luckily, we have plenty of them, too.