Weekend Update... on Wednesday
I haven't had a chance to write for a few days so let me recount Sunday-Wed. Sunday morning I woke up, like any other morning you might say, and ate spaghetti for breakfast. These things happen you see. The difference from this morning from any other, was that I had a text from an Argentinean inviting me to a professional soccer match between the number 1 and number 3 teams in the country. So I went. The two teams were La Boca and Independiente, a classic match only surpassed by the game between the number 1 and 2 teams (Boca v. Rivers). Anyway, we arrived to the stadium and had to pay somebody to watch our car so that nobody breaks into it. Pretty sketchy neighborhood actually. Another obstacle was the fact that we didn't have tickets. Apparently getting tickets to La Boca games is really difficult because they only go to the socios (aka Argentineans who have something like season tickets). We had to do reventas, which is a spanishy way to say scalping. So my Argentinean friend calls his friendly local scalper who apparently he had used before. We were 8 people, 3 argentineans and 5 foreigners. The argentineans, who were decked out in Boca colors wanted to go to the standing room only section of the stadium, whereas us foreigners decided we'd prefer something safer for our first game in Argentina. We paid $150 pesos each (50 bucks, so quite a bit) and he gave the three tickets to the Argentineans and instructed us to wait with him, and to be pacient. The Argentineans left and we were left alone with Argentine scalper man. After 15 minutes of idle waiting and akward chit chat, he said he would be right back. This is where faith comes in. Here we are in sketchy sketch town with Argentinean scalper man who HAS our money, and he says he will be right back. These are the perfect circumstances for an age old scalper technique called the "cut and run." But he left, and we waited hoping he would return. The whole time I was thinking that we had just been victims of the Kansas City Shuffle. Seconds turned into tens of seconds, tens of seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into 7 minutes to be exact. After 7 minutes he returned. "Ok, let's go." He took us to a new spot just past the first line of security where they frisk you. We waited for 5 minutes or so, and another man approached us. "Go with him." So we went with him, waited, waited some more, and went through another line of security (where normally you show that you have tickets, the man told the security that we were with him and we passed). A third man approached us, "Go with him." This man took us through the final line of security. Here they scanned cards and made us pass through those rotating counter things two at a time. And we were in. We had no tickets, no idea of where to go, but we were inside the stadium. We wandered around the tunels and found one that seemed good enough and sat down on the stairs to watch the game because the seats were packed. It was beautiful to be a part of this black market operation they had going at the stadium. And we only paid $150 pesos, and the random Argentineans we met up with after the first security check point paid $200 pesos. Boo yahh.
But about the game. As you can see from the photos, the environment was estatic. The Argentineans sang the entire game about their team. I could only understand some things like "No importa si ganas, no importa si perdés..." "La Boca, mi corazon..." Everyone knew the words it seemed and the volume of the songs would fluctuate with time. Whenever a player from the other team would do something stupid, everyone in the stadium would do this jeering whistle sound to taunt him. Also, if a Boca player missed a shot, instead of yelling at him and cursing at him, the hinchas, fans, would applaud the effort. The play was super clean and crisp and the best I have seen live by far. The first touch of all the players was outstanding and the players looked extremely comfortable on the ball, almost as if it were a part of them. For the duration of the game there was a 8 year old Argentine with his dad. It reminded me of a dad back home taking his son out to the ball game. The difference was, though, that for the whole game the 8 year old was shouting the most dirty obscenities I have heard in Spanish. "Hijo de puta... La cancha de tu madre hijo de puta, negro sucio, chupalo." The father did nothing to prevent this an may have been encouraging it. The first half was very good but didn't produce any goals. Some cheerleaders came out at halftime wearing pretty much thongs, and they had no idea how to dance. The male fans in the standing section seemed to enjoy it though. 5 minutes into the second half, the home team La Boca, slotted one in and the stadium erupted. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *breath* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLL.
Everyone jumped around and shouted like they were on fire, but instead of screams of pain, agony and despair, they were screams of joy and excitement. The stadium was buzzing and we began to sing a song "Chupalo, chuuuupalo, chupalo, chupalo..." (this means sucks it), however, this was soon squeltched by a pictureque header goal by the other team. 1-1. 15 minutes later, a player on the other team got a red card for mouthing off to the referee. As he approached the tunnel to leave, two police officers in riot gear came and escorted him, protecting him with shields from the assorted debris being hurled at him. 15 minutes later, another red card for the other team and the same process. It seemed La Boca was only going to get a draw despite having a numerical advantage over Indpendiente. But then, in stoppage time a ball was slotted behind the defense to an onrunning Boca forward, and GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-- wait, fuck. Offsides. Game Over. 1-1 Tie. But for that brief moment before everyone realized it was offsides it was the most excited I have ever seen a stadium. People were shouting and jumping, drums were being pounded, flags waved, and there were infants were doing back-flips. We made our way out of the stadium and neighborhood no problem. During the game, a dog came up into our section to hang out. Since when can dogs go to football matches? It seems that a dog can go anywhere in Argentina. I have seen them in stadiums, trains, sub-ways, and let's not forget the dog that lives at San Andrés and is allowed to be in classes. After the glory of the soccer match, I came home and had to write a paper in Spanish about the Russian Revolution. Not fun. Time is flying by it seems. September 17th. Shit. I wouldn't say that I have more homework at San Andrés, but I have more school related time. Monday-Thursday are entirely dedicated to going to school. I leave at around 7:30 a.m., and don't get back till the afternoons. Mid-terms are next week, which is good and bad. It's good because we don't have any classes for two weeks. It's bad because I'll be using that time to study. Meh. I sure there will be much more to come in the coming days as I will be needing to procrastinate. Good night and good luck.
But about the game. As you can see from the photos, the environment was estatic. The Argentineans sang the entire game about their team. I could only understand some things like "No importa si ganas, no importa si perdés..." "La Boca, mi corazon..." Everyone knew the words it seemed and the volume of the songs would fluctuate with time. Whenever a player from the other team would do something stupid, everyone in the stadium would do this jeering whistle sound to taunt him. Also, if a Boca player missed a shot, instead of yelling at him and cursing at him, the hinchas, fans, would applaud the effort. The play was super clean and crisp and the best I have seen live by far. The first touch of all the players was outstanding and the players looked extremely comfortable on the ball, almost as if it were a part of them. For the duration of the game there was a 8 year old Argentine with his dad. It reminded me of a dad back home taking his son out to the ball game. The difference was, though, that for the whole game the 8 year old was shouting the most dirty obscenities I have heard in Spanish. "Hijo de puta... La cancha de tu madre hijo de puta, negro sucio, chupalo." The father did nothing to prevent this an may have been encouraging it. The first half was very good but didn't produce any goals. Some cheerleaders came out at halftime wearing pretty much thongs, and they had no idea how to dance. The male fans in the standing section seemed to enjoy it though. 5 minutes into the second half, the home team La Boca, slotted one in and the stadium erupted. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *breath* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLL.
Everyone jumped around and shouted like they were on fire, but instead of screams of pain, agony and despair, they were screams of joy and excitement. The stadium was buzzing and we began to sing a song "Chupalo, chuuuupalo, chupalo, chupalo..." (this means sucks it), however, this was soon squeltched by a pictureque header goal by the other team. 1-1. 15 minutes later, a player on the other team got a red card for mouthing off to the referee. As he approached the tunnel to leave, two police officers in riot gear came and escorted him, protecting him with shields from the assorted debris being hurled at him. 15 minutes later, another red card for the other team and the same process. It seemed La Boca was only going to get a draw despite having a numerical advantage over Indpendiente. But then, in stoppage time a ball was slotted behind the defense to an onrunning Boca forward, and GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-- wait, fuck. Offsides. Game Over. 1-1 Tie. But for that brief moment before everyone realized it was offsides it was the most excited I have ever seen a stadium. People were shouting and jumping, drums were being pounded, flags waved, and there were infants were doing back-flips. We made our way out of the stadium and neighborhood no problem. During the game, a dog came up into our section to hang out. Since when can dogs go to football matches? It seems that a dog can go anywhere in Argentina. I have seen them in stadiums, trains, sub-ways, and let's not forget the dog that lives at San Andrés and is allowed to be in classes. After the glory of the soccer match, I came home and had to write a paper in Spanish about the Russian Revolution. Not fun. Time is flying by it seems. September 17th. Shit. I wouldn't say that I have more homework at San Andrés, but I have more school related time. Monday-Thursday are entirely dedicated to going to school. I leave at around 7:30 a.m., and don't get back till the afternoons. Mid-terms are next week, which is good and bad. It's good because we don't have any classes for two weeks. It's bad because I'll be using that time to study. Meh. I sure there will be much more to come in the coming days as I will be needing to procrastinate. Good night and good luck.
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