Here in Argentina soccer is a game of passion. Walking to the game we passed pro-home team slogans graffitied on the walls. When we arrived outside the stadium, we found throngs of people anxiously waiting for the game to begin. A huge armored police car stood behind police in riot gear with tear gas canisters strapped to their chests. In booths nearby, police manned fingerprint scanners ready for any hooligans. When we reached the gate, the attendant asked in Spanish, “Where is it (meaning the ticket)?” He offered no smile or welcome and was our only employee interaction.
When we reached our seats (free seating by section) we saw a unique looking stadium. It was a smallish arena of typical stadium architecture with concrete stands but had some post-construction developments. The players on the field were protected from the fans by tall Lucite walls with barbed wire on top. The other team’s fans were placed on the opposite side of the field. They separated the two groups of opposing fans further by not selling tickets in the section directly adjacent to the visiting team’s section to avoid confrontation. Both sides of this section were cordoned off by similar glass and double-sided barbed wire. Curiously, there also wasn’t a visible game clock or scoreboard so that last second goals are less tense. This led to a seemingly random ending of the first half and later the game. Also, no alcoholic beverages were sold during the game and none could be brought in. Beverages could only be purchased in paper cups.
To start the game, an inflatable tunnel that ended a third of the way onto the field was put up to protect the other team from flying debris… And they were off! A close 2-1 then 3-1 loss ensued with the other team’s fans singing for the full 90 plus minutes! They had brought bass drums and a few of them even had horns to play the team song. The whole crowd was jumping, pumping arms, clapping and singing in unison causing a wave to ceaselessly rise and fall on the other end of the field. As our team started to lose and the other team’s fans subsequently began to wave their banners more and more our fans got bitter. One fan proceeded to curse out his own team for the rest of the game. “Vos madre es un caballo!”
At half time the players and some fans switched sides of the field – the home fans so that they could continue to catcall the enemy goalie. Half time was a short break in the action for players and fans alike, but soon the dull roar began again as play continued. Both teams and fans played and cheered hard respectively. However, the final score of the game was 3-1 Quilmes. The head referee had checked his secret game time watch and had decided to suddenly call it all to a close. The referees themselves got booed thoroughly, as all over the world, though here with a bit more bite than bark. The referees make about $2,000 a month but the fans passion requires them to live and work far away from the games they referee.
After the game, the tunnel inflated to let the other players out. However, this time the home team was the one that needed the exit as they were bombarded by trash and insults as they left the field. With the game over, the other team’s fans quickly were ushered out of the stadium. Meanwhile, the home team fans had to wait 30 minutes more in the stadium to give the smaller number of enemy fans the opportunity to escape. When we finally could go, we once again passed by the riot police. What fun! All these precautions were put in place in the last 10 years to change with the times. In the old days, fans from opposing teams would meet before the match started and mutually decide at which street corner they would meet after so they could have a fistfight. It used to be part of the whole game experience – man on man. However, as guns became more available these fight became extremely dangerous – man with gun on man. The new precautions were then put into place.
Overall, I found this game to be very different from the games back home. Here there was no sugar coating-no smile, no myriad of food choices, no half-time show, no fancy stadium, no colorful signs, no electronic scoreboard, no band/music,n no goodbye. It was just passion. The man next to me cursed his team the whole match, but I know he will go to the next game and the next game and the next. It wasn’t a spectacle. It was all about the game.
-Greer
The Brighams Of Baltimore 