This is a guest post from Adonis Stevenson – an extract from his new book Travelantics.
Being a fan of the beautiful game, Latin America’s football culture was one of the many reasons why I chose to visit. Since Buenos Aires has a few teams, I decided to follow the most passionately supported one, Boca Juniors. As they are the team favoured by the lower classes, their stadium, the Bonbonera, is in the middle of the poorest (and therefore most dangerous) part of central Buenos Aires. Tourists are advised to go with a tour group at the cost of around $40, or at the very least to get tickets in the less boisterous seated areas which go for around $25.
Naturally I got myself the cheapest $4 ticket to stand behind the goal with the more ardent and unruly fans. I wanted to experience the real thing and not a sanitised version, but I was still nervous, as I had heard a few first hand tales of people being mugged in that part of the stadium. My worries eased when I persuaded a few people from the hostel to join me. I was also planning to meet up with Jerome, a student from the Spanish school, but it was impossible to find him in the throng outside the stadium.
Whilst waiting for some of my companions to buy their tickets, a meaty smell attracted me to one of the food stalls where I got myself a greasy fried chorizo sausage in a bun. As my change was handed back to me, a nearby Boca fan informed me that I needed to hand it over it to him. It wasn’t a request – he was informing me of what needed to occur. I wasn’t going to argue over the equivalent of forty cents, and it happened in such a matter of fact way that it felt more like part of the stadium experience than a threatening situation. I’m not sure why this was, but perhaps I had done such a good job of convincing myself I would be robbed at some point, that when it did happen, it just felt like a normal facet of my quirky new life.
Once we got inside the stadium, it was pandemonium. We weren’t sure where we should go and we didn’t dare ask anyone in case we gave the impression of being helpless vulnerable tourists. It didn’t occur to us that with a few of our party being tall blonde Europeans who looked like poster boys for Aryan supremacy, our origins weren’t much of a secret.
I let myself fuse into the horde, and I was practically carried to the central stands behind the goal by the flow of the crowd. The tightly packed bundle of human emotion around me was electric. The team wasn’t even out on the pitch yet but the stands were full and everyone was singing, shouting, eating, drinking, waving flags, jumping around or any combination of all of those. There must have been about ten thousand of us crammed behind one goal and a similar amount doing the same behind the other. I mentally congratulated myself on not getting the expensive seats as there were probably only another five thousand people evenly spread over the rest of the stadium. Behind the goals was where the action was.
When the match kicked off, a small group of hardcore fans in the middle of the stand started jumping around and singing and didn’t stop until the match was over. Not even half time could blunt their enthusiasm. Boca Juniors won the match 3-0, but I’m reliably informed that the same thing happens even when they are losing, as the fans are devoted to their team. When something exciting happens like a goal or a dangerous attack, then the whole stadium joins in with their jumping, which is a genuinely stirring sight. With twenty-five thousand people jumping up and down in unison, it looked like the stadium was oscillating, and when I stood still, I could feel it rocking on its foundations. I have been to bigger stadiums and matches with more fans, but I have never experienced an atmosphere like that.
It was clearly more than just a sporting event to those fans, especially the sweet old woman next to me that spent the match swearing like a hardened criminal. It was a good introduction to Spanish profanities and even though I didn’t know what they meant, I joined in with her on some of the songs.
The next day at Spanish school, after my teacher had explained to me what all the swear words meant, I asked Jerome about his experience. He said that he also had a good time, apart from being mugged and having his camera stolen. We had been advised not to take cameras, but he decided to take his anyway and keep it hidden in his pocket until he felt it was safe to take it out. When he saw a one-legged Boca fan jumping up and down on a bollard, swinging a shirt in one hand while using the other to balance, the potential photo opportunity was too big to pass up. Minutes later, he no longer owned a camera.
After speaking to a few people that had been to Boca Juniors matches, about half of them loved it, while the other half ended up having something stolen or being intimidated in some way. If you’re prepared to take this risk, which can be reduced by being smart about your appearance and behaviour, then the experience is outstanding value for money. The whole event including tickets, transport, food and the disguised mugging cost me the equivalent of a pint of beer in a London pub.
Adonis Stevenson is a graphic artist working and living in Guildford, England. Travelantics is his first book and is based on his round-the-world travels, which came about with the startling discovery that there was more to the world than making video games. You can see more information on the Travelantics website or buy the book from Amazon.
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