River vs. Boca

Argentina is a country filled with passion: the sultry tango, a beautiful language and of course, fútbol. For Argentines, fútbol is part of their culture, a way of life and at the center of their hearts. In Buenos Aires there are two club teams - River Plate and Boca Juniors. One's allegiance depends heavily on their family and in which barrio they reside. The middle and upper class northern barrios support River, while the working class southern barrios support Boca. Most people don't have a say in which team they support because they are born either a River or a Boca fan. And switching teams is seen as a grevious offense, even creating rifts between families and friends. Although I'm not a big sports fan, attending a fútbol game in Argentina was as big of a priority for me as traveling. I wanted to see and feel first hand the type of passion and pride, which is something many Americans seem to lack. The perfect setting for this? El Superclasico River Plate vs. Boca Juniors.

After weeks of searching for tickets to the biggest game in Argentina, I had all but given up until my host parents suggested that I go to the game early and look for scalpers selling tickets. Last Sunday, Julia (German roomie), Avril and I arrived at la cancha de River (River stadium), where we were met by chaos: cue the Boca fans. The Boca team passed by in a bus and suddenly the fans began screaming "¡DALE BOCA!! ¡DALE BOCAAA!!" and rushed the street to greet their team. After the team passed and the initial enthusiam wore off, we wandered the streets while attempting to be as inconspicious to the policemen as possible. We spotted two sketchy men sitting on a stoop talking on cell phones and trying a little too hard to keep their cool: these were our guys. We bought the tickets for 250 pesos a pop - kind of expensive, until I saw we had some of the best seats in the stadium!

BUT I'm getting ahead of myself. Half the story was getting into the stadium! Saying that Argentines are fanatics when it comes to fútbol would be an understatement. Their games have garnered a reputation for being as dangerous as they are exciting. The deeply rooted rivalry that divides the city in half - and pits the working class against the wealthy - incites violence and fights when someone inevitably ends up as a the looser. The streets were lined with policemen wearing bullet-proof vests, helmuts and combat boots while carrying shields, batons and guns. I have a knack for being dramatic, but trust me, this is no dramatization. Mistakingly, we entered through the general public entrance which is where all the rowdy (or most loyal, depending on how you look at it) fans sit. We pushed through the crowd of yelling and sweaty men, while the police used their batons to keep everyone in place. Until (and this is SO Argentina) a police man saw us and said, "¡Ay pasan las mas lindas!" (let the prettiest girls pass). Then we were directed to the entrance for our seats, which were in much more laid-back section.

Inside the stadium we sat on the River side because the Boca section was small and reserved only for the visiting team. The River fans' social standing was clearly reflected in the number of yuppie Argentines present - women clad in pearls and designer sun glasses; and men sporting polos, khakis and cashmere sweaters. But even their well-kempt personas didn't hinder their die-hard allegiance to River. They jumped, they screamed, and they sang at the top of their lungs: "¡VAMOS, VAMOS RIVER PLATE! ¡VAMOS, VAMOS RIVER PLATE!" This was one of the...cleaner songs, to say the least. Other popular songs included terms of endearment for the other team such as "hijo de puta" (son of a bitch). And whether the fans were young, old, or anywhere in between, they made no hesitation to jump to their feet and yell, "¡Ay, Boludo! ¿Que haces?" (dumbass, what are you doing?) or - when things got really tough - "¡Concha tu madre!" (fuck your mom) to the field.


La Cancha


Footage of the crowd


The game

Right before the game started, adrenaline rushed through the stadium as each side tried to out do the other to be heard. Each team boasted live bands, balloons, streamers, and fog machines that blew smoke in their respective colors. Then finally, the game began! It was an intense game, with neither team having scored by half time. Even though we sat on the River side, I have to give credit where it's due - the Boca Juniors were very skilled; their intricate footwork, quick thinking and swift moves were quite impressive. At one point the goalie flipped backwards to keep the ball from going into the goal! And in the end, the Boca Juniors won El Superclasico.