Accompanied by Ed, Olly, Steve, Mike, and Nathan (5 boys from England), I went to my first Boca Juniors game. Thrilled to have people to spend this experience with, we all piled on a bus to leave our hostel in Palermo and enter La Boca. Upon arriving at the stadium, we milled around looking for tickets and enjoying a day-old slice of pizza that Mike kindly brought along. We approached a man in what looked like a ticket sales box and I asked where I could buy 6 tickets. He replied that there were none. Hmm. After a few more tries, we found some scalpers on the street and after much deliberation, coughed up the cash to pay for tickets. A tour bus (Condor Estrella for those familiar) rolled in with the team and like the Dead Sea parting, everyone got out of the way to cheer the team through. The excitement began to rise as we all looked at each other with wide eyes and sheepish grins like kids in a candy store.
To get in the stadium, you have to line up behind a few specified fences. Think "animal pens". Everyone is awkwardly close; some awkwardly drunk. That said, I gathered that we were at a pretty "civilized" entrance, if you will. We were surrounded by dark hair of all styles—some styles certainly questionable and lots of aspiring mullets—and different shades of blue and yellow, Boca´s colors. I certainly stood out in my red t-shirt and knock-off sunglasses. People were singing and jumping up and down with excitement: You could feel the energy in the air. As soon as the police began letting people through, it became a mad, trampling rush and we were soon all shoved together up against the wall. Once moving forward, we went through about four checkpoints and one with the full frisk (where there was one, lone woman police officer for me).
The last checkpoint was the final frisk. Again, I head toward the one woman police officer. Before I know it, they are guiding me toward a different entrance than the guys. The security was motioning for me to walk forward as I am looking around to see where the guys are. Pretty soon I am 50 meters away and can’t see them at all. Oh crap. I am going through the entrance, still with everyone waving me through like they know who I am. I expected to see them on the other side of the door to the stadium. I didn’t—I had no idea where they were. There I was with rowdy fans everywhere—all men—and I couldn’t find the guys. Did I somehow get a ticket in a different section? They all looked the same. ?? This was NOT a place where I felt I should exercise my independence...
I stood off to the side, calming myself and praying the boys I came with would show up. After a few moments, they did! Thank god! I’d had visions of being in the pit all by myself and finding my way home on my own after being pawed at or spit on by rowdy fans. Upon entering our section, all was well. And the nice man gave me the last program! Sometimes it IS good to be the only girl! Ha! Our seats were at the top of the stadium and had an amazing view.
The game was incredible. People would throw receipt paper rolls from the top of the stadium down to the field, like streamers unraveling through the sky. Confetti was everywhere, flares were going off (doesn’t seem terribly safe to me either). The crowd roared, sang, jumped up and down and the entire stadium swayed with activity. The Racing team sat opposite us with light blue pom poms and balloons, signs, streamers, banners, and umbrellas. They were screaming, jumping, and singing the whole game!
Racing got the first goal, Boca quickly followed with a PK (but they missed the first one). Toward the end of the game Boca started playing like crap (lots of Burros!), and their defense left a lot to be desired the whole time. Racing scored again.
At the end of the game, after devouring a huge bag of chips from a nearby gas station, we made our way home. Once back in Palermo, I went out to dinner with a couple of the guys at a fabulous establishment where they served fantastic cheap white wine. The three of us polished off three bottles. After the first one, the waitress tried to bring us "algo mejor?". "No! No, no. Nada mejor!" We love our cheap wine! Nothing tops a wonderful day like a hilarious, celebratory night.
To get in the stadium, you have to line up behind a few specified fences. Think "animal pens". Everyone is awkwardly close; some awkwardly drunk. That said, I gathered that we were at a pretty "civilized" entrance, if you will. We were surrounded by dark hair of all styles—some styles certainly questionable and lots of aspiring mullets—and different shades of blue and yellow, Boca´s colors. I certainly stood out in my red t-shirt and knock-off sunglasses. People were singing and jumping up and down with excitement: You could feel the energy in the air. As soon as the police began letting people through, it became a mad, trampling rush and we were soon all shoved together up against the wall. Once moving forward, we went through about four checkpoints and one with the full frisk (where there was one, lone woman police officer for me).
The last checkpoint was the final frisk. Again, I head toward the one woman police officer. Before I know it, they are guiding me toward a different entrance than the guys. The security was motioning for me to walk forward as I am looking around to see where the guys are. Pretty soon I am 50 meters away and can’t see them at all. Oh crap. I am going through the entrance, still with everyone waving me through like they know who I am. I expected to see them on the other side of the door to the stadium. I didn’t—I had no idea where they were. There I was with rowdy fans everywhere—all men—and I couldn’t find the guys. Did I somehow get a ticket in a different section? They all looked the same. ?? This was NOT a place where I felt I should exercise my independence...
I stood off to the side, calming myself and praying the boys I came with would show up. After a few moments, they did! Thank god! I’d had visions of being in the pit all by myself and finding my way home on my own after being pawed at or spit on by rowdy fans. Upon entering our section, all was well. And the nice man gave me the last program! Sometimes it IS good to be the only girl! Ha! Our seats were at the top of the stadium and had an amazing view.
The game was incredible. People would throw receipt paper rolls from the top of the stadium down to the field, like streamers unraveling through the sky. Confetti was everywhere, flares were going off (doesn’t seem terribly safe to me either). The crowd roared, sang, jumped up and down and the entire stadium swayed with activity. The Racing team sat opposite us with light blue pom poms and balloons, signs, streamers, banners, and umbrellas. They were screaming, jumping, and singing the whole game!
Racing got the first goal, Boca quickly followed with a PK (but they missed the first one). Toward the end of the game Boca started playing like crap (lots of Burros!), and their defense left a lot to be desired the whole time. Racing scored again.
At the end of the game, after devouring a huge bag of chips from a nearby gas station, we made our way home. Once back in Palermo, I went out to dinner with a couple of the guys at a fabulous establishment where they served fantastic cheap white wine. The three of us polished off three bottles. After the first one, the waitress tried to bring us "algo mejor?". "No! No, no. Nada mejor!" We love our cheap wine! Nothing tops a wonderful day like a hilarious, celebratory night.
**I am now most proud to announce that Alex, my little brother from the training school in Necochea, was selected for Racing! A pro at 16....not bad. Remember the name Alex Gutierrez from Nicaragua. He'll be famous very soon.
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