29 October 2011

Idolo del Ecuador

Reading: We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People by Peter Van Buren

Liga graffiti, Tumbaco
So on my return trip from Santiago, I made a pit stop at the Estadio Monumental Banco Pichincha to catch a match between one of Guayaquil's club teams, Barcelona, and Liga, a club team from Quito. Think of it as a futbol (soccer) game equivalent to a baseball game between the Yankees and the Red Socks, with Barcelona being the Yankees. I say that only because Guayaquil has a second team, Emelec, that I prefer, but it leads to a  Yankees/Mets sort of dynamic, minus the fact that Emelec is actually good.

Now, in my experience, Emelexistas tend to be true soccer fans that love "the beautiful game." Barcelona fans, on the other hand, just like to get rowdy and see soccer as an excuse to party (see the Yankees comparison). They tend to be overly obnoxious and would much rather spend their evening with a haba of cerveza, but a soccer game is a justifiable excuse. What more is, Barcelona fans have a reputation for being horrible... as in they like to through urine at their own fans when the game isn't going the way they would like it too...

All that aside, two other gringas and myself decided that the rivalry game between Barcelona and Liga would be an enjoyable way to spend our evening and even managed to pick up a fourteen year old ecuadorian to accompany us. So, we hopped on a public city bus that gradually filled up more and more with yellow Barcelona jerseys. The bus finally dropped all of us off at a police station parking lot, which was full of camionetas waiting to whisk us off to the stadium. And the mayhem had begun.

The four of us jumped into the back of a camioneta, which quickly filled up (mind you, there are police standing all around completely okay with this situation) with fans. The stadium is only about 3km from the parking lot and we're about an hour and half early to the game but the street is full of people running to get in line for the general seating sections. The camioneta stops in the middle of a median and we join the rush towards the stadium parking lot (with Jordi and I stopping to pick up $5 jerseys to blend in as best as a gringa can).

At this point, people have formed a snake line to get into the stadium that resembles some cross between a conga line and red rover. The idea is that you need to stand as close to the person in front of you so that when the line starts moving the punks trying to line jump can't push their way in. Elbows are thrown, toes are smashed and you may end up lifted off the ground by the shear number of people. Just to give you a feel, the guy that was three people behind me was holding on to the girl in front of me. Not for those who need their personal space. Plus, while all this is going on, there are police on horses that are not at all pleased to be there.

Once in the stadium, it's basically a mad dash to find the best seats. This wouldn't be that bad, if it was for the fact that the stadium is without aisles. The result is the four of us literally climbing over people trying to find a place to sit. Luckily the guys behind us in the red rover snake line made room for us albeit in the nose bleed section. As we waited for the game to get started, the guys end up pulling people up over the stadium wall with their belts (I'm still not sure how they managed to get up on the roof) and people started shooting off fireworks from within the stands... Certainly not like professional sports in the States...

But after the game got going, people seemed to calm down. Yes, the was some water and urine thrown, but luckily we were high enough up that it didn't effect us... although it still escapes me why you would want to throw things at your own fans... perhaps if there had been a Liga fan section it would have made sense, but Barcelona pretty much owned the stadium.

And that was my first fabled Latin American soccer game, with the most exciting part being the entry. Plus, Barcelona lost... que pena.

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