Waking up, I lept from my bed. I couldn't sleep knowing that I was just hours away from my first real futbol match. Not MLS, not some Champions League game on the TV, but an elimination match for the 2014 World Cup: Argentina vs. Chile.
Unprepared for the match, Tammy, Mauro, Andrew and I went to pick up the tickets we had purchased the night before on the website Ticketek. Dragging Mauro, our Chilean friend along, we went to pick up some Argentina Jerseys to help us three gringos blend in a little better in the 57,000 person stadium.
Returning to the hostel to change into our new jerseys, the excitement started to build. Mauro who is from Chile put his Chilean jersey on and quickly covered it up with a black hoody to avoid a fight. As we hopped in a taxi to take us to the game, Mauro began explaining how real the danger actually was. He explained that we would have to meet an hour after the end of the game because they don't let fans from different teams leave at the same time, and that we should meet a block away from the stadium to avoid the fights.... not to avoid A fight but to avoid THE fights. Now we were excited.
Getting in line to enter the stadium, we went through four seperate pat downs, taking our lighters and checking our pockets. Climbing three massive flights of stairs, providing us with a view of the starlit city around us, we flooded into the stadium. With no assigned seating we pushed our way to the second row and stood as we watched the excitement in the stadium build. The Argentine side of the stadium erupted in songs and chants taunting the Chilean fans who reciprocated with chants of their own, filling the night with sounds of fanatical futbol fans.
As Argentina took to the field, appearing from a whole in the grass, the stadium shook as die hard fans exploded into celebration. Streamers and confetti rained onto the field in a whirlwind and national flags were stretched out over entire sections of stadium, 30 or 40 meters in length. As Chile took the field Argentines booed and heckled them with chants and songs, but the Chilean side roared over the din to cheer on their team. Red road flares were lit in their section piercing the darkness and filling the stadium with smoke. Standing the whole game, 50,000 strong, the stadium was alive with an energy that seemed to hang in the air like a thunder cloud ready to strike. Silence was nowhere to be found in the city that night as Argentina took the game four to one over Chile.
At the end of the game Chile fans filed out in sour spirits, with Argentines showering them with spit and trash from the stands above. Luckily our good friend Mauro had a map from the hostel and used it shield himself from the onslaught. Being in the Argentina section, we remained behind locked gates waiting for the Chile fans to leave so that we could be let out... Ohhhh... Thats why no lighters... lighters, locked gates and boisterous fans are a bad combination. Adapting one of the Argentina team chants, the crowd began chanting for the gates to be opened. Finally, an hour later, the gates opened and we flooded out into the night our feet sore from standing, and the excitement causing us to forget.
Walking several blocks around the entire stadium we find a saddened Mauro walking towards us on the street by our meeting spot, his black hoody covering the red Chilean jersey. Finding a restaurant we put some beer into the dour Chilean and fill our bellies with burgers. Catching a taxi home, we drop off Tammy at her hostel and retire for the night, weary from standing and chanting for hours at the most exciting sporting event I have ever witnessed. And thus an Argentine Futbol fanatic was born.
Unprepared for the match, Tammy, Mauro, Andrew and I went to pick up the tickets we had purchased the night before on the website Ticketek. Dragging Mauro, our Chilean friend along, we went to pick up some Argentina Jerseys to help us three gringos blend in a little better in the 57,000 person stadium.
Returning to the hostel to change into our new jerseys, the excitement started to build. Mauro who is from Chile put his Chilean jersey on and quickly covered it up with a black hoody to avoid a fight. As we hopped in a taxi to take us to the game, Mauro began explaining how real the danger actually was. He explained that we would have to meet an hour after the end of the game because they don't let fans from different teams leave at the same time, and that we should meet a block away from the stadium to avoid the fights.... not to avoid A fight but to avoid THE fights. Now we were excited.
Getting in line to enter the stadium, we went through four seperate pat downs, taking our lighters and checking our pockets. Climbing three massive flights of stairs, providing us with a view of the starlit city around us, we flooded into the stadium. With no assigned seating we pushed our way to the second row and stood as we watched the excitement in the stadium build. The Argentine side of the stadium erupted in songs and chants taunting the Chilean fans who reciprocated with chants of their own, filling the night with sounds of fanatical futbol fans.
As Argentina took to the field, appearing from a whole in the grass, the stadium shook as die hard fans exploded into celebration. Streamers and confetti rained onto the field in a whirlwind and national flags were stretched out over entire sections of stadium, 30 or 40 meters in length. As Chile took the field Argentines booed and heckled them with chants and songs, but the Chilean side roared over the din to cheer on their team. Red road flares were lit in their section piercing the darkness and filling the stadium with smoke. Standing the whole game, 50,000 strong, the stadium was alive with an energy that seemed to hang in the air like a thunder cloud ready to strike. Silence was nowhere to be found in the city that night as Argentina took the game four to one over Chile.
At the end of the game Chile fans filed out in sour spirits, with Argentines showering them with spit and trash from the stands above. Luckily our good friend Mauro had a map from the hostel and used it shield himself from the onslaught. Being in the Argentina section, we remained behind locked gates waiting for the Chile fans to leave so that we could be let out... Ohhhh... Thats why no lighters... lighters, locked gates and boisterous fans are a bad combination. Adapting one of the Argentina team chants, the crowd began chanting for the gates to be opened. Finally, an hour later, the gates opened and we flooded out into the night our feet sore from standing, and the excitement causing us to forget.
Walking several blocks around the entire stadium we find a saddened Mauro walking towards us on the street by our meeting spot, his black hoody covering the red Chilean jersey. Finding a restaurant we put some beer into the dour Chilean and fill our bellies with burgers. Catching a taxi home, we drop off Tammy at her hostel and retire for the night, weary from standing and chanting for hours at the most exciting sporting event I have ever witnessed. And thus an Argentine Futbol fanatic was born.
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