It is uncommon in Buenos Aires to encounter a taxi driver who does not associate with Boca or River. Not impossible: I've met taxi drivers from Racing, Independiente and even a handful from San Lorenzo; but uncommon. A taxi driver outside of the 'big five' is very rare. Taxi drivers are, at least in their football teams, representative of Argentine society.
In my first months in Buenos Aires, taxi drivers easily identified that I was not from the country (I can now give my address with a sufficient accent that their interest is not piqued). Conservation invariably reached the question: “what are you doing here?” and to football. Given the composition of taxi-drivers, I did not receive too much sympathy for my team choice. More, however, than an Argentine would.
Descriptive labelling is integral to Argentine conversation. Person's names are often replaced by ambivolent physical descriptions: “¡ey flaco!” “¿que tal gordo?” “bien bien, ¿y vos negro?” (Suaréz wasn't making up his defence from nothing, 'negro' is often used). Foreign players, and foreign immigrants, are often called by their nationality. Examples of San Lorenoz players: Ortigoza is called “el Paraguayo” and Salguiero is “el Uruguayo”. It is not always positive but unlike such labelling in North America it is also not always negative.
Hinchadas of football teams are also reduced to several descriptive labels. The most common and one of the most insulting is to say 'pecho frio' – literally cold chest, but I think cold heart is a more accurate translation. Vélez Sarsfield is the classic example – if they are losing “la gente” (people) don't go. At least that is how non-Vélez supporters see it. It may be jealousy, as Vélez has been consistently good since the 1990s. Nevertheless, for most hinchas what is worse than having a losing team is to have an hinchada that does not show its support through the 'buenas y en las malas mucho más' (in the good and in the bad, even more).
Two teams that don't consistently earn the label of 'pecho frio' from Buenos Aires taxi drivers are Racing Club de Avellaneda and San Lorenzo de Almagro – first because both are large enough to general topics of discussion. Instead most will agree they are clubs 'de sufrimiento' – of suffering – spoken with the tone of grave sincerity but approving nod of the head. In a twisted world, suffering is seen as an undesirable but admirable trait. In footballing terms, it means that people show up in the stadium to see their team lose.
And San Lorenzo is living up to its label this year. Last weekend I travelled to Rafaela, Santa Fe with buses organized by supporters – it is a seven hour trip of singing and drinking, on the way up at least. Around 600 people made the journey is a similar fashion (most from Buenos Aires and around, but others came from La Plata, Cordoba, Santa Fe, and other cities). We arrived early to pass the midday in a park. 600 cuervos eating choripan, relaxing in the autumn sun, sporadically groups launching into another song. While I heard people mention that they were nervous and anxious about the game, most came with an enduring hope that their collective presence would help lift their team.
It wasn't going to be a good result, despite pulling thousands (including many locals and people who found their own way) to Rafaela, their support was not enough to pull San Lorenzo back into the match that they briefly were leading. The 2-1 loss to Rafaela is a disaster in terms of San Lorenzo's position in the decenso; the team is within a hair (or another Tigre victory to be precise) of the direct decenso. No opportunity for redemption at the end of the season if the ciclón's fall continues.
The flow of the match has a big impact on how supporters react. I'm finding that an hinchada is willing to sing in matches that are a complete disaster (Lanús) but are disillusioned and likely to fall silent if their moment of hope is snatched away. San Lorenzo supporters walked out of Rafaela without singing, without applauding or even swearing at their players. “Why are you clapping, they don't deserve anything” someone said. Silence from thousands of people is one of the most imposing sounds.
How much suffering can people take, however, before they reach their limits? There are 12 matches to be played, the next one against the pecho frios of Vélez – still standing near the top of the table – behind closed gates. The incidents from two weekends ago led AFA to suspend local supporters. San Lorenzo supporters have a lot of potential suffering to endure – given how this team is playing and the troubles going on behind the scenes. They are not going to get any breaks; in Rafaela there was again more controversy with penalties not called in San Lorenzo's favour.
But as the bostero or gallina taxi drivers will admit, to a foreigner at least, there is an Argentine dignity to enduring suffering. I think to suffer means you do not have a cold heart, even more literally: not dead. With suffering there is passion and life, thus optimism that at the very least tomorrow and “siempre te voy a acompañar” - I will always be with you.
Its three days after the controversial match between San Lorenzo de Almagro and Colón de Santa Fe ended in a tie. Colón scoring in the '69 minute from a potentially offside play waved off by the referee. After the match one article on Mundo Azulgrana finished:
Lo que se vivió el domingo ante Colón fue como diría Eduardo Galeano, el mundo del revés, Patas para Arriba: el que metió la mano se fue custodiado, y a los que se la metieron, reprimidos. What I lived on Sunday against Colón was like what Eduardo Galeano wrote about in Upside Down, the world in reverse: he that did wrong was protected and those who were wronged were punished.
Undoubtably this match does nothing to abet the hincha's perspective that Club Atlético San Lorenzo de Almagro is the target of prejudice: A club regularly suffering against the injustices of authority. The narrative shared in the return to Boedo and to the stadium taken from the club by the dictatorship.
San Lorenzo needed a win against Colón to stay above Tigre, who is surging out of the promotion table. The very dangerous reality for San Lorenzo is not only that they are in the bottom four but that they may end up descending directly.
I think much worse than recognizing the need to win, for the hinchas there was also the feeling that they would win the match. Coming off two victories, a gutsy come-from behind triumph in Cordoba against Belgrano and a sloppy penalty-kick win in the Copa Argentina against Chacarita, there was some optimism. The banda had even changed its entering tune:
With lyrics like:
Hoy San Lorenoz hay que ganar Today San Lorenzo needs to win
No podemos perder We cannot lose
...
Yo dejo todo mi corazón I give you all my heart
Solo te pido salir campeón I only ask you to finish a champion
These hopes seemed realistic after Colón forward Fuertes was sent off for a hard body challenge in the 30th minute. El Ciclón had already the fair share of attacking opportunities, their chances improved greatly by going a man up in the hot afternoon sun with two-thirds of the match still to be played. More than anything else, however, finding the back of the net seems to be San Lorenzo's greatest problem. Their finishing in the box is dreadful.
It was an ugly goal but San Lorenzo found the advantage just before half. A strong strike from Kalinski ricocheted off of Colón defender Bastia into the back of the net. Underneath the rain of fire-hoses, La Gloriosa Butteler sang their team into the half-time locker room:
The 2-nil loss at home to Boca was forgotten, 4-1 in Lanús a distant memory, and in a couple of wins San Lorenzo would be out of the ascenso. In retrospect, all of the hope and good omens were only going to make what happened next worse.
In a short spell of Colón pressure coming out of the half, San Lorenzo was pushed back onto its defensive heals. San Lorenzo soaked up most of the pressure, but on a well defended attack, an innocuous blocked shot by a defenders head of would lead to a goal that has occupied sports news in Argentina for days.
From the perspective of the stands, it was impossible to understand what happened. Seeing Colón players celebrating led to an irruption of disbelief. Clearly Colón's player had been called offside by the linesman and his cross to Garcé in the middle was not serious. San Lorenzo's players had reacted to the raised flag by walking towards half, believing the play had ended. Even Garcé's tap-in was taken in the customary after the whistle style. But no whistle had been blown and the referee Abal had even wagged his finger at the linesman. Abal pointed to the centre signalling goal and was immediately surrounded by players. The stadium didn't know how to collectively react; every applicable insult and swear word was yelled simultaneously from every direction.
The goal is here:
Personally, I'm unsure about how the offside rule in this case should have been interpreted. The goal did come undeservedly against the run of play, the linesman did raise his flag to signal offside, and genuinely players from both teams did respond as if the play had ended. There is debate about how to interpret an “active” attacking player at the time the ball is passed forward, as clearly the Colón player was in an offside position. But there have been other times when a deliberate redirection by the defensive player to an offside but “unactive” attacker has not been called. A similar but different case is dealt with in #3 of You be the Ref.
What has really surprised me, however, is how the post-match reactions have failed to really pick up on two themes that are 'natural' from my North American “soccer” perspective: first San Lorenzo players did not play the whistle. Probably one of the most basic lessons any child would have heard their coach yell many many times. Second, they did not score a second goal despite playing a man up for 60+ minutes. Both of these problems I feel would have at least been raised in another cultural context to counter the sense of injustice experienced by San Lorenzo; in Argentina even in reading and listening to commentators normally against San Lorenzo these points were hardly raised.
Ending in a tie was a huge disappointment but the reaction in the stadium and after went to another level. Supporters in the normally posh Platea Norte refused to let the referees leave the pitch, throwing bottles other objects, and threats. Police with their shields were needed to escort Abal and crew off the field safely. Being in the Platea Sur, myself and friends were the most removed from the chaos and left the stadium fairly calmly. At a relative distance away from the stadium, I noticed people were focusing back onto the stadium, and that the police helicopter had come significantly closer. It was not until much later in the day that I saw the news: several hinchas of the Platea Norte had attempted to enter the change rooms.
The police response was heavy – they fired tear-gas and rubber bullets into the crowds. The populares, filled with barra bravas as well as families, by many accounts had not been involved but yet were nevertheless victims, having their eyes and throats burned by the gas. As I finish this post, the Asociación de Fútbol Argentino (AFA) is deciding whether San Lorenzo will face a two-match ban against local supporters. Supporters are already planning a march on AFA for this Friday in protest of the expected ban, with many writing: “without out hinchas, San Lorenzo doesn't play”. I'm not sure if the word ordering has the same effect in Spanish – turning the phrase from a threat into a statement of support.
It is going to be another interesting week with San Lorenzo. At the very least, next Saturday I'll be off to Rafaela (many Argentines have even asked, “where is that?”) to be with the visiting supporters.
This was the biggest march I've ever participated in - way more than all the anti-war mobilizations in Ottawa including George W. Bush's visit - and all organized by a group of supporters and members of a football and sports club. Somewhere between 65 000 (LaNacion, which buried the story) to well over the 100 000, all to hear 40 minutes of speeches and put pressure on a municipal government to take action. I'd expect some academic friends to easily make the argument "but there are things more important than a football stadium" - before anyone takes the cynical route, just imagine 100 000 people coming together, happy and energized, to participate in the political process to demand restitution from past injustices and possibilities for community in the future. It is worthy to congratulate the organizers on what all those with just political causes regularly fail to do, speak to the emotional passion that moves people to participate. The organizers proposed an idea 10 years ago and have worked, as volunteers in their own time, to make this:
I'll have more later. Hopefully an edited video from the caravan and analysis. It might take a bit of time because I'm off to see San Lorenzo play in Cordoba. For the moment: gracias gloriosa ciclón! sos tenes una hinchada sin igual, ¡que fiesta pendejo! A volver, a volver, San Lorenzo a volver!
On 2 December 1979, San Lorenzo played their last match at their stadium on Av. La Plata in the heart of Boedo. Known only by its popularized name “El Gasómetro”, the stadium had been built in 1916 on land bought by the founders of the club. Over the years, the massive wooden stadium, holding at its peak 75 000 people, hosted many of San Lorenzo's greatest moments and players – spectacular goals by club idol José Sanflippo, the undefeated 1968 “Matadores”. Forced to sell the stadium property during the military dictatorship, the club spent the following 14 years borrowing rival clubs' stadia. In 1993, San Lorenzo moved into its Nuevo Gasómetro, located in the close by barrio of Bajo Flores. The sentiment of the club's unjust dislodging from Boedo, however, has permanence within cuervos, San Lorenzo's hinchas. Tomorrow, March 8th, the Sub Comision del Hincha (SCH)– originally formed by a small committed group of hinchas and socios of the Club Atlético San Lorenzo de Almagro (CASLA) – will bring an expected 100 000 people to Plaza de Mayo, asking the City of Buenos Aires for one thing: to return their club to the neighbourhood of Boedo.
The campaign began over a decade ago as a small project among friends; supported by the dedicated work of club historian Adolfo Res. Res has been central in uncovering and constructing the narrative of the vuelta. As the story is now told – I do not mean to say 'ficticious' story – is that the City of Buenos Aires, under the control of the Brigadier Osvaldo Cacciatore of the military dictatorship, forced San Lorenzo to sell El Gasómetro for $900 000 with the excuse that the land was needed to connect the streets and improve circulation in the south of the city. As most football clubs, CASLA was legitimately in debt and was also told they would also lose access to city land in Bajo Flores where the club was planning on building a new sports complex if they did not accept. Four years later in 1983 not a single street had been extended; the land was sold to Carrefour – a French supermarket chain – for $8 million; an ironic 'cross roads'. Rumours have swirled about corruption and flows of money and questions about Carrefour's own role in the dirty business dealings.
By the late 1990s, hinchas of San Lorenzo began to talk about the possibility of regaining the club's presence in Boedo – particularly the property known as “Tierra Santa” where the Viejo Gasómetro once stood. Drawing upon the narratives of justice and historical memory that have combatted silence and immunity in post-dictatorship Argentina, the campaign found traction within the popular consciousness of the hinchada. In 2010, supported by legal volunteers, the SCH presented the “Ley de la Restitución Historica” (Law of Historical Restitution) in front of the legislature of the City of Buenos Aires; with the intention to return the 'stolen' property to CASLA.
Since 2007, popular mobilization has arisen as a necessary strategy to push the proposed law through the legislature. 20 000 participated in the second march on April 12 2011, then 40 000 went to the city legislature on July 5th 2011. Around 7000 got together in December to hand a letter to the French Ambassador. I was fortunate enough to participate in this march, which was unlike any other 'protest' I'd ever been to: the culture of the terraces was transferred into the streets of Buenos Aires' most exclusive neighbourhood. All for a letter! Read something like this (over course more formal): “France you have a company that has the land of our stadium, we would like it back. Please talk to them. Thank you very much, signed the hinchas of San Lorenzo”
Standing in the terraces of El Nuevo Gasómetro, you will undoubtedly be exposed to this narrative. Most songs written by the hinchada in the past few years includes at least one reference to “la vuelta”, “a volver”, or to Boedo. If you are from San Lorenzo, you are from Boedo, and your dream ('ilusión' in Spanish) is to return. The passion for the return to Boedo is undeniable, what amazes me is the people driving this campaign: those who are too young to have any memory of El Viejo Gasómetro or San Lorenzo in Boedo.
In many ways the ideology of San Lorenzo is deeply embedded within the constructed social-cultural memory of “El Gasómetro”. This memory is made, reinforced, and defined by the generation of fathers, grandfathers, uncles, and all those who make up the previous generations of cuervos. For the previous generations, the Viejo Gasómetro was a place where they learned from their father how to curse at the referee, played football under the stands, spent summer afternoons in the pool, and went on their first date.
I asked an older cuervo, “Why does the Gasómetro have such a sentimental value?” He told me, “If I closed my eyes, I could tell you exactly how it was.” Of course I asked, “How was it?” He began to describe, starting with all the club facilities beyond the actual stadium, the layout, playing football under the stands, and meeting the players such as 'El Sapo' Villar, before even mentioning watching matches from the stands with his friends. Very typical of the generation now occupying Boedo's cafes. Eventually most descriptions from those of earlier generations reaches the conclusion: My life was in the Gasómetro, every minute outside of school and home was at the club, I grew up in the Gasómetro.
Those in the 'new' generation grew up not in the Gasómetro, but hearing these stories; as most hinchas are hinchas because someone older in their family is an hincha. What is more interesting is that the 'life' of the social club that is told by the older generation figures heavily in the justification of the new generation's desire to 'return'. Returning to Boedo, in this regard, is like a time-machine. Anyone who has seen the film “La Luna de Avellaneda”, about the loss of the sports club culture in 1990s Argentina, will likely have some skeptical reservations about such nostalgia. But it is undeniable that the hincha desires San Lorenzo to have a significance more than being a football team – and they have latched onto the memory of previous generations to describe a social-cultural sports club.
Today, talking to a cuervo, this dichotomy figured heavily in his reasoning why he supported the vuelta: some see San Lorenzo as its professional team, and he wanted San Lorenzo to be his club that also had a professional football team. What is pulled through this single campaign, I believe, is the same struggle that many supporters face around the world – how to define one's passion as something 'more' than the 'business' that surrounds the professional game. For the Cuervos of San Lorenzo, the “vuelta” is both a physical and metaphoric. Regardless of individual opinions on the political possibility of regaining the property from Carrefour the marches have become the physical manifestation of the ideology of San Lorenzo: “mas que una pasión”.
For these reasons and more, thousands – maybe even 100 000 – hinchas of San Lorenzo and sympathizers will take over the Plaza de Mayo on March 8th 2012.
Carnaval 2012 is wrapping-up in Buenos Aires, the corso on Av. Boedo was opened for the last time last Saturday night, the barrio's three murgas - La Gloriosa, Los Cometas, and Los Chiflados – all came to celebrate, and San Lorenzo de Almagro lost at home 0-2 to Boca Juniors. After slight improvements in the last two matches, the result of the 'clasico' prevented what would have been the perfect celebration in the 'barrio de murgas y carnaval.'
Realistically, San Lorenzo entered the match as the odds-favourite to lose. 14th in the 2011 Apertura and failing to bring in any significant reinforcements over the summer, El Ciclón needed to rely on a gritty performance to put an end to Boca's unbeaten streak in Argentine league play, going back to last year's clausura. Christian Chavez, returning from Napoli, and “Good Charly” (Carlos Bueno) were the big hopes for a San Lorenzo victory; history giving the Saints a helping hand. San Lorenzo is known as the father of Boca Juniors because, more than any other team, San Lorenzo has won some important matches against Boca.
A sold-out crowd descended upon el Nuevo Gasómetro in the hope of seeing 'papa' beat Boca. Sunday was a another hot and sunny summer day, temperatures must have been well over 30 degrees. I arrived with a friend at the stadium by foot nearly two hours before the 5pm kick-off time. A huge line-up already extended hundreds of metres from the entrance to the local tribunas behind the goal. Luckily we avoided waiting outside for too long, as for this match I had bought tickets to the Platea Sur so my friend could watch the game with me. Non-socio populares had sold out in less than a day and many people waited throughout the week at the San Lorenzo sedes to pay their quotas to gain access to the stadium.
Being two-hours early has its benefits: you get into the stadium easily and have a decent choice of seats (though thousands had already turned up before us). It also has its downsides, which on a hot sunny day has to include being roasted. Needless to say my tan will be darker in a few days.
We sat beside a contingent of ten fanatics who travelled four hours from Gualeguay, Entrerios to see the match. Most likely not the furthest group to have travelled that day. The 'leader' of the group was a man in his 50s, who had brought with him his original player jersey and flag from the '95 San Lorenzo champion team. For supporters like him, they rarely are able to make it to local matches. Together he, his family and friends paid each 160 pesos to rent a large van and then 120 pesos for the tickets, a significant amount of money (consider a socio in the populares pays around 90 pesos, or about CAN$25, each month to see two to three local matches). In the provinces people keep in contact with their clubs through branch athletics clubs and local peñas – organized supporters groups.
30 minutes before the match the majority of the stadium was near capacity – later I heard that the doors had been opened to the south Platea because the tribuna had been filled – and the visiting Boca supporters had begun to really stream in. I'd seen the internationally infamous “La 12” live in Mendoza for the summer 'Super Clasico' against River Plate. I was much closer on this day and in many ways this match was much more important; before the arrival of 'la banda' of La 12, most of Bocas hinchas had found seats furthest away in the top corners of the visitante populares, leaving an gaping space in the centre. Boca supporters were content to antagonize with chants of “San lore, San lore, San lore en la B”.
The entrance of the banda is always an important moment, and La 12 provided a show with their blue and yellow ('gold') flags, trumpets, trombones, and drums. But their ability to draw attention was cut short; I've become biased, but for me la banda of “La Gloriosa Butteler” always manages to explode the stadium. Old torn up newspaper glittered in the afternoon sun and 35 000+ bodies forgot about Boca and had their own fiesta to the song that has become the anthem of San Lorenzo for this torneo:
Despite the daunting odds and apprehensive tension, or more likely because of both, the hinchada of San Lorenzo managed to create an entrance worthy of a clasico. They also revealed their trophy: a San Martin flag stolen from Boca.
If only the players managed to create the same sort of drama as their supporters. There are a number of qualified and more attentive analyses of the match; the short version of the story from the stands is that San Lorenzo cannot win matches where it doesn't create chances for itself. Chavéz's return was either pre-mature or he is going to be less-than-useful for the rest of the season. Chavéz, while not alone, was singled out by fans before the end of the first half as one of the players not putting in a full performance. The worst thing you can be as a player in Argentina is lazy, distracted, or tired – Chavéz was one or all of the three; hopefully he is just not used to putting in a full 90 minutes after sitting on the bench all season in Napoli and is working hard to get to match fit. But I have my doubts.
Bueno, today paired with Salguiero, could not win a ball – hard to say if it is his fault or the dismal creativity from the midfield who, for the most part, prefer to lob the ball in the air. Ortigoza cannot be faulted for his spirited play and can make well placed passes but he is overweight. Running all-over the pitch, which despite his lack of speed he was willing to do, should not be expected from him. His creativity cannot be used when he is trying to get back into position after covering for his more athletic but less interested teammates. Half-time came with San Lorenzo carrying most of the possession but with the two serious goal chances going to Boca. Los “bosteros”, as Boca's supporters are labelled, could sense success coming their way and continued their pre-match antagonism, playing a funeral march that they had earlier played against River.
The second half was worse; San Lorenzo gave up goals on two defensive mistakes – though the second goal was conceded with the help of a foul that removed a defender from the play. Being a team fighting the ascenso and always needing to win, San Lorenzo will play the rest of the season open to counter attacks and cannot make basic mistakes, such as the give away in the defensive third that led to the first goal.
After the second goal, San Lorenzo supporters gave up on the match; this led to a small incident between supporters. Its not clear who started it, but plastic seats were thrown between the platea sur and visitante sections until reserve police arrived to push Boca supporters away from the corner. A few minutes later, a dozen rows in front of me, a small squabble within San Lorenzo supporters led to a group of people leaving the stadium. There was no fighting but people were upset; apparently the story is that someone had been taking pictures and movies of the Boca supporters. Just a reminder to any tourists who want to see a match in Argentina, you can secretly like the other team, but be smart about where you are and how you express yourself. If you are in a local section but don't want to support the local team wear neutral colours and act as a neutral and you will be fine.
Having become accustomed to the life of the populares, I was surprised by the lack of singing and standing in the plateas (though there were sections that were more engaged than others in the sur, probably because of the mass of 'populares' let in before the start of the match). In the face of defeat, its much easier to be near the banda, singing and jumping, than watching the deathly final minutes of a foregone match. Also there is a creeping feeling that those who are not singing are like the players who don't leave it all on the pitch... need to control such urges. An interesting problem about 'participant-observation' in such circumstances, do I participate as those immediately around me – la platea culture – or as the fanatic from the populares that is more infectious? Is it better to suffer four hours in the exhausting, overheated, and sweaty populares to be jumping around and singing than having the 'comfort' of a seat and the torture of dealing with defeat with only one's disgust and anguish? Only one thing is for sure: I'd have been equally sunburnt either way.
More than any other match, I felt that San Lorenzo's hinchada had been demoralized and deflated; there were moments when La 12 was clearly louder and dominated the soundscape of the stadium. I worried that the carnaval San Lorenzo had kept going despite, or because of, difficult times was coming to an end, to be replaced with cynicism of the 'consumerist' sports fan who goes to see a winning team.
Reality on this day hit supporters harder than before, maybe also with so many more hinchas in the stands who haven't been able to make it to previous matches, but by the end of the match the gloriosa began to pour over the stadium. In the final minutes of the match, unsuppressed by a flurry of red cards and the reality of defeat to Boca – or possibly forgetting it entirely – Carnaval was brought back to Boedo:
Pasaron 100 años | 100 Years have passed
que late este sentimiento | with this beating passion
quisieron privatizarte | They wanted to privatize you,
pero yo a vos no te vendo | But I wont sell.
nos siguen diciendo, que estamos de la cabeza | They keep saying that we are crazy.
nos bancamos el descenso | We withstood the 'descenco',
hicimos la cancha nueva | we built a new stadium.
yo quiero a la banda | I want a banda,
de fiesta y en pedo | of drinking and fiesta.
sabemo' que vamo' a volver a boedo | We know we'll return to Boedo.
a tanta locura no hay explicacion | The insanity has no explanation.
si yo de pendejo estoy junto a vos | Since I was young, I've been with you.
tanto sentimiento, tanto carnaval | So much emotion, so much carnival,
nos hizo gloriosa por la eternidad | we made the gloriosa to last for eternity.
This week, on March 8th the hinchada is going to make an even bigger carnaval in the heart of Buenos Aires with the “Marcha para la Vuelta” - march for the return. I'm going to try to get a post up before the march.
I'm way behind on my match-by-match updates! And with this weekend fast approaching and (hopefully) two more spectacular matches (including the clasico between father San Lorenzo and son Boca Juniors), I'm going to throw out three matches in one post... San Lorenzo - Estudiantes 19 Feb, Peñarol - Atlético Nacional (Col) in Montevideo 21 Feb, and Argentinos Juniors - San Lorenzo 25 Feb. Rather than going through these games 'match-by-match', I've compared-and-contrasted.
The Previa
Before any match there is the 'previa' for the hinchas; the idea is to get ready for the match. Against Estudiantes was the first local match, the 'home-opener' for the 2012 Clausura. For two weeks, facebook was filled with announcements for the purchase of globos/balloons for the game. I was clearly very excited to see how San Lorenzo would receive their team; but like a fool I misunderstood the kick-off time and only luckily checked to realize I missed the caravan that was leaving Av. La Plata in front of "tierra santa' by 20 minutes. Still enough time to get to the Nuevo Gasómetro though, because the caravana left two hours before kick-off. I walked down La Plata alone, in my classic San Lorenzo jersey ripoff of the '95 jersey- having become increasingly superstitious against the 2011/12 SL jersey I bought (I have yet to see SL win in that jersey and only seen one goal in the match against Lanús). Superstition is infectious, even if it makes no sense.
The classic jersey was a good choice, as it brought many comments of passer-bys ('hoy tenemos que ganar!' and 'hoy es un partido dificil!') till a meeting some local pibes on the street. We shared some songs and beer, schemes were being made about how to get into the stadium by the time we reached the athletics facilities. The line-up into the tribunas was huge, 200-300m long, 5 or 6 people wide. No problem, there was still 45 minutes to go. In the confusion I lost my new friends and I stuck out in the slow moving line; slow moving because at the very front, a lot of people were just pushing in from the side. There were futile shouts of "ahhhh, respecta la cola!" by one man in front, but most of the people, who nevertheless were going to respect the line, had probably given up yelling years ago. This is just how things are, until it gets close to kick-off. Then a little bit of panic sets in and people started yelling at the police officers - in riot gear - holding back the mass from charging past the security.
Security itself turned out to be lax by the end, they were waving people through. It was like Uruguay! In comparison, the Peñarol match had the least security I've seen at a football match in South America. I had not expected to attend this match, I didn't even know it was happening, but thanks to an alert taxi driver who told me all about Uruguayan football on the drive from the airport, the first thing I did was look for a ticket. I had bought my ticket earlier in the day - 220 pesos urg (around 60 peso Arg or $CAN 12; a good price for non-members)- at the stadium box office. Organized, calm and relatively hassle free (in comparison to Buenos Aires); it is the Montevideo way. The police check was only concerned about bags and about 75% less objects than police in Buenos Aires - fireworks, flares, emergency smoke, etc. is no problem in Montevideo. And there was no huge crush of people trying to get in.
A few days later, I arrived to the Argentinos stadium named after Diego Maradona, a 'product' of their youth club, by colectivo and a bit lost. I kept running into police barriers telling me "not here, just around the corner another block". I'm starting to realize that the police don't actually know very much about where they are stationed for these games nor how the stadium is laid out.
Finally arriving at an entrance, I could see in front of the police line there was another crush of people. Obviously a lot less than a week earlier in Bajo Flores but what this mass lacked in size in gained in disorder. I had heard the singing of hinchas blocks away, thinking that the hinchada of Argentinos was engaged in its previa in a nearby park. Wrong. La Gloriosa Butteler had loaded dozens of micros (old school buses) and taken over the normally quiet residential streets of Paternal and now they wanted into the stadium. But unlike in Montevideo, the police wanted to make an effort (show of?) to ensure no fireworks, flares, knives, and guns made it into the stadium. While in the the middle of a gently pushing mass, I felt a surge of pressure at my back, turning my head to see a group of big guys pushing everyone aside to get to the front. Again no one was going to say anything. Except the ticket counter, who didn't like the fact that one of the big guys hadn't brought his entrada.
For the Argentinos match I had to get a 'platea' - or seated - ticket because I missed the days to retrieve my abono popular while in Montevideo and the extras were sold out. San Lorenzo was taking over the Maradona. Of course, as a fool I showed up in shorts and tee-shirts despite the news that there would be a cold storm coming through, and sure enough once in the stadium huge winds picked up and within minutes a down-pour of cold rain. Thankfully being in the plateas the culture is to run for cover, not so for the strong people of the populares, who continued to stand outside singing in anticipation of receiving the beloved Ciclón.
Recibimiento
Each one of these matches had their own distinct reception and reason for celebtration. San Lorenzo-Estudiantes was the first home match, Peñarol-Nacional was the first group stage match of the Libertadores, and against Argentinos, San Lorenzo took over their stadium and turned into a local match. Videos proved better descriptions:
Obviously people showed up with those thousands of balloons from facebook. Arriving just minutes before, I had climbed up where I saw space... which happened to be just above the banners of La Gloriosa Butteler. Perfect right in the centre of the hinchada and a decent view from above the goal. The popping of the thousands of balloons created a rippling of fire-work like pops; and my ears were ringing from the intensity of the singing. Incredible. 5 minutes passed as in seconds. And I got my first chance to really feel how much the stands sway under the weight of thousands of people jumping up and down: a lot, it rivals an earthquake.
Everyone in Montevideo, particularly Peñarol supporters themselves, wanted to impress upon me how 'big' Peñarol is. Of course Peñarol is a historic club - they say the team of the 20th century, at the very least one of the biggest for the number of international tournaments they won particularly in the 1950-70s. And along with Nacional dominate Uruguay (the split is something like 40-40, leaving 20 percent for the rest of the clubs). What is immediately noticable is how much the 'colours' of the club matter, in Buenos Aires they wear the colours, but in Peñarol they ONLY wear the colours - a sea of black and yellow, old railway colours of the carboneros (coalmen).
Obviously Uruguayans aren't subjected to the restrictions of Porteño supporters. Everything, up to and including tiny explosive bombs, are welcome into the Centenario (an impressive stadium, despite its age, clearly a 'temple' for football). Peñarol doesn't need a huge banner to obstruct the view of its supporters... I lost a year of my life I think because of the yellow and black smoke and burnt gunpowder in the air. I'd give bonus points for the sparklers that were handed out by the hinchada - known as the Barra Amsterdam - that created thousands of little candles. Too bad the sun hadn't set yet for the full effect. The reception of players lasted so long that the kick off was barely visible. And this was just a Libertadores group stage match... imagine a final. Obviously the identity of Peñarol is rolled into its historic, but not recent, successes in Libertadores.
Visitor league matches in Buenos Aires are different sorts of matches. Obviously you need to forget the experience of fireworks and flares, which are rare but not absent because they need to be smuggled in. What San Lorenzo lacked in the spectacle, it made up in the raw expression of emotion:
Argentinos is a small barrio club and simply when they play a "grande" their hinchada becomes the visitors. But I've been told that what is happening right now for San Lorenzo is special and cannot be compared. Obviously the people feel the pressure of the ascenso, the reaction of cuervos is to pour emotion from the back of a dumptruck into every stadium they go to. Unfortunately I was standing on the other side of a tall fence to the left in this video that separates 'popular' from 'platea' and didn't get to share in the full-force of the hinchada but no amount of cold rain and wind would have kept me waiting in the tunnels.
The Match
Lots of description leading up to the matches, the matches themselves!
San Lorenzo v Estudiantes was a must not lose match; that is how not-optimistic supporters had gotten. In reality it was a really need to win, but no one wanted to jinx even a tie after losing 4-1 to Lanús the week before.
That was exactly the image that flashed before everyone when San Lorenzo let in another easy goal in the first 45; I couldn't believe that the ball had slipped through Champagne's hands and left on the ground as a present for Estudiantes to be popped into the back of the net. Another match, another defeat, this was already written; the shoulders of the players dropped and I was afraid of having to watch 45 minutes of heartless play.
That was not going to be, something finally has changed (I hope!?) for San Lorenzo who came out of the dressing room with a new found determination. A bright spot has been the Uruguayan Bueno, who is constantly trying to communicate and lift players up around him, and Botinelli has secured his position as captain from the back line with a similar attitude. San Lorenzo pressured and pressured, finally being rewarded with a clear foul in the box and a chance for a penalty. Earthquake in the tribunas - it certainly feels safer to be jumping than standing still, at least then you cannot feel everything moving below you. Up stepped Ortigoza, the singing dropped several decibles; rarely does a penalty in a league match create so much tension, but the importance of this penalty could not be understated. San Lorenzo NEEDED at least a point, another loss would not only be bad for the team's average but would wipe out any hope. At the moment a penalty goal was the only solution to a misfiring attack. I don't think I even registered the ball going into the back of the net; I only understood that the Nuevo Gasómetro just exploded into the deep rumble of tens of thousands of people in unison hitting the letter 'o' at the top of their lungs. The whole three minutes here. "Estamos de la cabeza... yo quiero a la banda de fiesta... tanto sentimiento tanto carnaval nos hizo gloriosa por la eternidad."
San Lorenzo continued to pressure Estudiantes, reduced to 10 men, but couldn't find the winner. A tie, however, was a almost a win and for the hinchada I think some optimism had returned, San Lorenzo could respond to being behind and could turn up their game. "Dale dale matador!"Goals are here.
Peñarol v Atlético Nacional, on the other hand, was a disaster. 4-0. Not much to be said about how Peñarol played - they played a high attacking game but couldn't control the midfield and were left bobbling the ball forward to strikers who were not that interested in winning back the ball. Nacional scored almost routinely on the counter attack, sending balls from the midfield that cut up the defence of Peñarol. What shocked the Argentines, who I went to the match with, was how the hinchada of Peñarol had responded. I've been biased by el Ciclón (anthropologist debate about 'neutrality' and 'going native' is going to be a theme), I've seen them lose 4-1 in Lanús and respond with unrelenting "love", I've also participated in sharing parts of that emotion. I don't feel much for Peñarol; so for me, despite everyone else saying "que hinchada! viste!?!" mehh.. but really the response of the hinchada, as hundreds of 'cold hearts' streamed out of the stadium, should be marked as impressive. Unfortunately there is not a good video showing the hinchada at full voice, while losing 4-0, but nevertheless I could only imagine what social movements could do with this type of support when they are losing.
For the match against Argentinos, I had transformed into a complete superstitious supporter, and donned my 'lucky' Canadian Voyageurs supporter shirt (and was wearing white shorts... I wonder how many people thought I had wandered on to the wrong side of the stadium in those colours?). I'm going to be much worse now because it worked. I've finally seen San Lorenzo go ahead in a match (after only six matches...). San Lorenzo had carried the intensity of the last 45 minutes against Estudiantes into this match, and despite playing without their best midfielder Ortigoza (out because of his collection of five yellow cards), were creating chances. Controversially Madelón, San Lorenzo's manager, had elected to start young academy star Nahuel Benítez in place of also suspended Salgueiro ahead of veteran Romeo. The decision was rewarded with the best prize: the winning goal.
Bueno was sent chasing a ball that perfectly split Argentinos defence and put him one-on-one with the keeper, who came charging out and threw his body at the ball. While I was clamouring for a hand-ball against the Argentinos keeper who had clearly left the box, I missed Benítez putting the louse ball into the back of the net. I don't know if it was because it was a new experience for me - to see San Lorenzo winning - or I was still stuck on the hand-ball; but it once again took a moment to realize I was shouting GOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL with the 5000 or 6000 visiting San Lorenzo supporters. San Lorenzo had scored a cup winning goal, or at least we acted like the did:
San Lorenzo kept the pressure on throughout the rest of the match looking for a second; but no one seemed to be capable of figuring out the location of the net. Bueno, in particular, sent the ball wide on a few 'sure goals'. The many wasted chances resulted in a very tense final 15 minutes. I expected to find the match tied every time the ball crossed into the San Lorenzo half. For me one of the beautiful agonies of Argentine stadiums is that they rarely display the match time anywhere, and as I'm without a watch, I live in oblivion of time. 45 minutes pass according to the rhythm of the match, each second can be drawn out to ten or five minutes can pass in the blink of an eye. My only sense that we were close was when the intensity of the hinchada's singing picked up. My acoustic submersion into the "olé, olé, olé, olé ola! cada día te quiero más" was so deep that you could almost literally taste the impending victory; but tense seconds passed with the possibility of another bitter finish for San Lorenzo.
The final whistle just happened; for me it was if the referee was blowing all the tension out of the stadium. For once I could cheer the players of el ciclon off the field as victors.
Streaming out of the match, the thousands of supporters joyously sang down the streets of Paternal, into the micros, cars, and colectivos. The words "te juro que en las mala momentos, siempre te voy a acompañar" took the tone of vindication that this hinchada does not lie: it will go support you through all of the bad times to get to moments like this. Dozens of blocks away from the stadium you could hear horns bleeping down streets of Buenos Aires. San Lorenzo had just won the championship! Or in reality, their first win of the 2012 clausura and el Ciclón still remains in the bottom four of the promoción. But at least now there is proof that the next 16 matches can end in a victory.
This Sunday is the big 'clasico' between San Lorenzo and Boca, the only "grandes" from the capital to play in the clausura this year. Boca is often called the 'hijo' or son of San lorenzo because of several historic and unpredictable victories for the azulgrana. Given the history between the two clubs, I've heard this clasico described as the most important match for both teams: if San Lorenzo wins, they likely have the team to escape promoción. If Boca wins, they likely have the team to win the 2012 clausura. It is a bit early in the season for such predictions, but with River in the B, San Lorenzo-Boca is the biggest game in Argentina.
