Boca Juniors always plays on Sundays. In old days, before television, teams from all divisions played their games on sunday afternoon, at 3:30 pm, conveniently planned after a big asado lunch. Eating meat (possibly killed and gutted on the spot, then barbecued for hours over booze) and watching football are two of the most important and simbolic caracteristics of an argentine man. Since tournments are being televised the tradition of going to the stadiums every sunday afternoon faded away, first because the network started to change the game schedule to different hours for programming purposes, and second, spectators gotten lazy, and just watched their game on television instead of actually going to a stadium. Yet Boca, kept playing almost always on a Sunday afternoon---you have to accept that football is a billion dollar industry, and not just a stupid passion anymore.
This past Sunday was my first weekend off from work in a long time. Since my TV show kicked off, I have to go to a football game every week, whether I enjoy it or not---You football fans, don't hate me, it is just a job. I recognize how lucky I am but sometimes going to a game every weekend gets boring too-- and i miss lazy sundays, asados, and pool parties. Even though I did not have to work, this sunday I really wanted to go to this specific game as my team (Racing) was going to play against this season's leader and Argentina's biggest team, Boca Jrs. I pulled some strings (press always gets in) and managed to score 2 entries for myself and my friend, a dear journalist, an adventurer, who I thought was worth inviting, as he'd enjoy this urban jungle, a game that so many will sell their kidney in order to get in.
After our carnivorous upscale picnic in the Costanera Sur, we hit the road towards Boca's infamous stadium, also known as La Bombonera (the candy store). 5 block radius to there the roads were blocked as usual. I remembered my first Argentine game experience there merely 4 years ago. My best argentine friend, my kanka, a devout Boca fan, Gonzalo took me with him to experience football, not knowing I'd become a Racing fan years later. The game we went was against Independiente--Racing's biggest rival. Back then I did not care much of the game and the teams but I was mesmerized with the passion of both parties and the stadium the shook. Bombonera is famous for this. It shakes as if Buenos Aires is having a 6.0 earthquake as hinchas jump and sang. I had flashbacks to 1999, all the way to my hometown, the earthquake prone Istanbul. It was amazing to feel how the stadium vibrated while Boca players scored goals. After the initial shock, I cheered with Gonza as if I was cheering for my beloved Galatasaray. Did not care so much about anything else.
While Mark and I anxiously walk to get our press passes, and after a year of being around millions of fans around South America, the side streets that lead to the stadium felt very uneasy. A couple of weeks ago Argentina's biggest team's barra brava (they are known as la 12, the 12th player, also the best organized hooligans in the world) came to a turning point as the "old boss" Rafael diliceo was released from his 3-year old prison sentence and was back in the streets of the 'hood again. He made it public that he was out to get his kingdom back from once-upo-a-time his number 2, Mauro, who ratted him. The streets of Boca neighborhood felt very uneasy because people were expecting a big fight, and cops were nowhere to be found. We could feel the drugged infused testosterone of Mauro's gang hanging around, and hoping that we would not have to experience the infamous violence associated with argentine football on first hand.
Luckily we entered to the glorius Bombonera, packed to the limit, without a problem. My 5inch heeled feet hurt from walking so fast but the ice cold coca cola and a ciggy at the press tribune helped to ease me to enjoy my first stadium experience as a civilian. I was a world away from my peeps (the Racing fancs), as we had to sat very next to cracked up "12" tribune, but it did not matter. I felt almost as I was in Ali Sami Yen (GS's stadium). I was biting my nails, talking to myself in turkish, cursing the referee for his bias decisions and dying to jump up as "the one who does not jump, is a Brit".
The game ended in a tie even though Racing ended up with 9 players at the second half. Boca fans will argue that it was meant to be because football is a big business and noone would like a championship 3 weeks into the end of the tournament. I'd say they are full of shit. As I left the stadium to take a bus to get to my next portena date, a milonga with Susana, a milonguera and a portena at heart, I felt, maybe for the first time, that I belonged to Bs As.
Yes, I am finally learning to dance tango. I became a loyal carnivore. I am watching a football game every weekend. I guess my dear friend Daniel is right; I am more of a portena than "maradona. even my bitching about this city is such a give away!"
This past Sunday was my first weekend off from work in a long time. Since my TV show kicked off, I have to go to a football game every week, whether I enjoy it or not---You football fans, don't hate me, it is just a job. I recognize how lucky I am but sometimes going to a game every weekend gets boring too-- and i miss lazy sundays, asados, and pool parties. Even though I did not have to work, this sunday I really wanted to go to this specific game as my team (Racing) was going to play against this season's leader and Argentina's biggest team, Boca Jrs. I pulled some strings (press always gets in) and managed to score 2 entries for myself and my friend, a dear journalist, an adventurer, who I thought was worth inviting, as he'd enjoy this urban jungle, a game that so many will sell their kidney in order to get in.
After our carnivorous upscale picnic in the Costanera Sur, we hit the road towards Boca's infamous stadium, also known as La Bombonera (the candy store). 5 block radius to there the roads were blocked as usual. I remembered my first Argentine game experience there merely 4 years ago. My best argentine friend, my kanka, a devout Boca fan, Gonzalo took me with him to experience football, not knowing I'd become a Racing fan years later. The game we went was against Independiente--Racing's biggest rival. Back then I did not care much of the game and the teams but I was mesmerized with the passion of both parties and the stadium the shook. Bombonera is famous for this. It shakes as if Buenos Aires is having a 6.0 earthquake as hinchas jump and sang. I had flashbacks to 1999, all the way to my hometown, the earthquake prone Istanbul. It was amazing to feel how the stadium vibrated while Boca players scored goals. After the initial shock, I cheered with Gonza as if I was cheering for my beloved Galatasaray. Did not care so much about anything else.
While Mark and I anxiously walk to get our press passes, and after a year of being around millions of fans around South America, the side streets that lead to the stadium felt very uneasy. A couple of weeks ago Argentina's biggest team's barra brava (they are known as la 12, the 12th player, also the best organized hooligans in the world) came to a turning point as the "old boss" Rafael diliceo was released from his 3-year old prison sentence and was back in the streets of the 'hood again. He made it public that he was out to get his kingdom back from once-upo-a-time his number 2, Mauro, who ratted him. The streets of Boca neighborhood felt very uneasy because people were expecting a big fight, and cops were nowhere to be found. We could feel the drugged infused testosterone of Mauro's gang hanging around, and hoping that we would not have to experience the infamous violence associated with argentine football on first hand.
Luckily we entered to the glorius Bombonera, packed to the limit, without a problem. My 5inch heeled feet hurt from walking so fast but the ice cold coca cola and a ciggy at the press tribune helped to ease me to enjoy my first stadium experience as a civilian. I was a world away from my peeps (the Racing fancs), as we had to sat very next to cracked up "12" tribune, but it did not matter. I felt almost as I was in Ali Sami Yen (GS's stadium). I was biting my nails, talking to myself in turkish, cursing the referee for his bias decisions and dying to jump up as "the one who does not jump, is a Brit".
The game ended in a tie even though Racing ended up with 9 players at the second half. Boca fans will argue that it was meant to be because football is a big business and noone would like a championship 3 weeks into the end of the tournament. I'd say they are full of shit. As I left the stadium to take a bus to get to my next portena date, a milonga with Susana, a milonguera and a portena at heart, I felt, maybe for the first time, that I belonged to Bs As.
Yes, I am finally learning to dance tango. I became a loyal carnivore. I am watching a football game every weekend. I guess my dear friend Daniel is right; I am more of a portena than "maradona. even my bitching about this city is such a give away!"
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