My dad was born in the province of Chaco, and migrated (very slowly) some 1500km to the south. The migration was slow enough that he managed to have two different local football teams to like.
The one he liked when I met him was Unión de Santa Fe, but the team of his childhood and youth was the remarkably obscure Chaco Forever. And of course, because it's what people do when their teams have no chance of ever winning anything, he liked one "big" team just to have some chance to celebrate (Boca Juniors, in his case).
Once, at the end of the 60s, he was driving north, towards Resistencia, the home of Chaco Forever, with my mom and my big brother, maybe a year old sitting in my mom's lap, no seatbelts. Those were the 60s and children survived because lead poisoning seems to be an antidote for second hand smoke and car crashes.
Then, his car stalls. That was hardly unusual. Our usual average speed on long trips was about 20km/h once you accounted for the stops to add water to the radiator, change flat tires, get a mechanic to see why the lights didn't work, and arriving at the wrong town. My dad liked cars, but cars hated him.
But before the car stalled, they had seen a light by the side of the road, up high. A light that seemed to follow them. And the car didn't start. That road in those times was lonely, and dark, and in bad maintenance. So stopping in the middle of it was a recipe for being killed by a truck.
A little later, the car starts, and the light appears again, and again it stops. Here, according to my mother, my dad got out of the car, and started shouting at the aliens to stop being idiots, that they were going to get him killed. After that, the light disappeared, and they continued traveling without further mechanical issues.
And a few days ago, this happened: A UFO appeared over a football practice. The football team? Chaco Forever.