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26.6.12

San Lorenzo is from the Primera and in the Primera we'll stay


“Jugadores, jugadores hoy vinimos a alentar. San Lorenzo es de primera y de primera no se va!” We are singing again but to a much smaller audience of people riding a Buenos Aires bus. An older lady at the back of the bus sparked our latest outburst after she began an older San Lorenzo song when she saw our blue and red colours get on the bus. As soon as we finished one song, some one would start the next one and we kept singing. The San Lorenzcista clapped along while grinning and ignoring her husband who kept saying “and Nuevo Chicago too!” every time she said “vamos cuervos!” Normally, despite being dressed in the uniforms of an hincha of San Lorenzo, my friends are reserved on the streets of Buenos Aires; keeping the terrace culture to the stadium. I also usually pay more attention to how 'the public' reacts to the sight of our group of hinchas but in this moment I didn't care – we laughed and sang the whole ride. Three hours after the match our emotional high had yet to fade: San Lorenzo defeated San Martin of San Juan 3-1 and passed a defeated Banfield to escape direct relegation. We were celebrating being in the “promoción” as if we'd seen the players lift the league cup, which incidentally went to Arsenal de Sarandí on the same night.

24.6.12

Until the last breath... we are San Lorenzo

It is the night before. A cuervo's friend's facebook status currently reads: "Please open Bidegain [the Nuevo Gasómetro] now! If they open it we will fill the terraces to get through the night of the Azulgrana insomnia". I will be getting up early tomorrow (this?) morning to participate in the San Lorenzo pilgrimage to the virgin of Lujan and returning by noon. Hardly the longest journey to get to the Nuevo Gasómetro - the Peña de Salta are travelling over 1600 km or 20-plus hours to be in the stadium, which has been sold out completely. Over 39 000 anticipated local entrances. No matter the result, at the final whistle there will be a large collective gasp of air.
Sold out: No relegation or promotion can control such passion.
Rather than write my own last minute thoughts, I would rather translate some of the words of two of the thousands of San Lorenzo hinchas struggling to express themselves. Unfortunately I don't have too much time or energy at the moment, but I hope that these small excerpts illuminate the world in which my own emotions have been enveloped within.

One of the most famous hinchas of San Lorenzo is Viggo Mortenson. And by hincha, I do mean one of the hundreds of thousands who will attentively and emotionally invested in tomorrow's match. After loudly cheering the end of the San Lorenzo - Newel's match several weeks ago, Viggo was approached by Washington airport security and told to calm down. His passion leads him to contribute to a regular column, drawing widely from the storied history of the club. In his latest exchange, Viggo states his San Lorenzo:
El partido contra San Martín será emocionante, pase lo que pase, sea o no el último del torneo. Veremos si podemos ganar y después tener al menos la suerte de jugar dos partidos para quedarnos en primera. Como decís, Fabián, esperamos que nuestros hermanos y hermanas del CASLA procuren portarse dignamente en nuestra casa, canten lo que canten o digan lo que digan los del otro equipo. Tampoco hace falta recordarles a nuestros directivos, jugadores o al equipo técnico que vamos mal. Lo sabemos todos de sobra. Mi sincera esperanza es que alentemos y juguemos hasta el último suspiro como lo que somos: los más guapos del fútbol argentino.
The match against San Martín will be emotional whatever happens. Our only chance is if we win. Then with some luck there will be two more matches to see if we can stay in the Primera. As you say Fabián [Viggo's interlocutor], we hope that our brothers and sisters in CASLA carry themselves in our house with dignity, no matter what the other club may sing or say. Nor that our leaders, players or team forget that we are in a difficult time. We all know it. It is my sincere hope that through our cheers and play and till our last breath we truly show who we really are: the most beautiful in Argentine football.
Now more than ever, I am an hincha of El Ciclón.
Pablo Jelovina wrote a letter to the players, which has since been posted on the San Lorenzo club website. In his last paragraph he writes:
Y así, cuando escuches el alarido salvaje de las tribunas, vas a poder entender que ese grito de guerra lo tenés en las entrañas. Que sale de tu más profunda voracidad como una bandada de cuervos dispuesta a sacarle los ojos al destino preanunciado. Porque vos, jugador de San Lorenzo, vas a sentir que por tu sangre corre nuestra hombría, nuestra ira, cada una de las esperanzas que, juntas, suman una realidad. Porque vos, hombre hecho ciclón, podés arrasar con cualquier tristeza, si te abrazás a nuestras lágrimas de ilusión
And when you hear the savage roar of the terraces you will understand in your guts this battle cry. Enter with the profound ferocity of a murder of crows determined to gouge the eyes of their foretold victim. You are a San Lorenzo player: you will feel running through your blood our manhood, our rage, every one of our hopes that together add up to a reality. You are a man made by the Ciclón. If you embrace our tears of hope you will be able to defeat any and every sadness.
One hincha, though I suspect that there are many more, has etched onto their body their life long sentiment and commitment to San Lorezno:
I swear that in difficult times, I will always be with you.
So I wait for the gates of the Bidegain to swing open so that I can be beside and with all those who will be present with their hopes and passion.

Hasta el ultimo suspiro con todos nuestros lágrimas de ilusión somos San Lorenzo. ¡El Ciclón! ¡El Ciclón! ¡El Ciclón!

22.6.12

the true meaning of an hincha's hope


Sitting at a late-night cafe with cuervo friends, the topic of conversation has once again returned to the importance of hope and possibilities. “What more can you do? It's better to be hopeful and positive. I'd rather go to the stadium expecting the best. It's my opinion – what do I know?” states a friend. San Lorenzo has one game left to save itself. It is hard not to hear the resignation in their voices despite all efforts to find the positives. Reality, the poetic enemy of hope, for San Lorenzo is stark with their fate is only partially within their control.

An online survey by the popular mundoazulgrana.com.ar website over the past few days reveals the lack of optimism resignation of many cuervos. Most believe that San Lorenzo after this Sunday will be in one of two direct relegation spots and no possibility of salvation.

Expectations for the performance of the team have sharply dropped over the past two weeks. After an expected but demoralizing 3-1 defeat to Tigre in Victorino – the names ominous enough even before considering Tigre is currently sitting first while also carrying favour with the politicos of AFA – San Lorenzo's still was in control. Two victories in the last games would have guaranteed a fighting chance to stay in the Primera possibly even salvation. Unfortunately, the reality is San Lorenzo hasn't won two straight matches in over a year.

Last Sunday the group met under low and looming grey clouds. In Buenos Aires it is not the temperature of winter, it is the damp humidity that invades through your clothing which makes you feel cold. Little did we know, the miserable light drizzle would turn out to be a perfect fit for the 'spectacle' we were about to see. Independiente de Avellaneda vs. San Lorenzo de Almagro is supposed to one of the 'clasicos' of Argentine football. The 0-0 tie was probably the worst match I've seen this year by both teams. Standing at the top of Independiente's partially completed and ironically grafittied “¿estadio europeo?” I felt already emotionally prepared for what was to come. As we prepared for the match, the supporters seemed more concerned by the poorly placed San Lorenzo banners that blocked the view of the goal far below. And to hurled insults of “you are in the B” by Independiente, a friend responded in a moment of brain-to-mouth: “you'll join us next year!” before another friend chided him with a sardonic laugh “hey, hey, be careful what you say!”

There is not too much to say about the match itself, though a last-minute goal-line clearance after a comedy of errors by San Lorenzo may turn out to be a perfect metaphor and important moment in this year's tournament – if they stay in the Primera. As the referee blew the final whistle for the first time this year the majority of San Lorenzo's supporters headed directly to the exit without applauding the players. Mid-game as the hinchada tried to sing through the lines “todo juntos podemos, nosotros alentamos, ustedes pongan huevos” felt more like an angered plea falling on deaf ears. Sports commentaries function through simple metaphors: but It is easier to watch the team 'go down fighting' then to see resignation.

One of the most important expectations of an hincha is that their players “show their feelings for the colours” - losing comes after the indignity of watching and supporting a team going through the motions without playing with emotions. The driver of our group had threatened to not enter the stadium, earlier in the week explaining “After the Newell's game, where the players did nothing, it was the hinchada singing that basically won the match... like the song 'all together, we support and you play with guts' [my translation]... and everyone in the stadium was crying but most of the players don't feel this way. It just make me feel angry.” He nearly missed the game, dropping us off two hours before the match to avoid the murder of cuervos expected to be waiting outside of the stadium looking for extra tickets. He had given his ticket to a friend and our group entered without him. Only to see him again one hour later – how he got another ticket I'm not sure – climbing up the now half-full terraces. “Where else could I watch the game?” he said after I asked him.

It is not a cliche that such difficult moments create problems for the hearts of sports fanatics. Another friend three weeks ago spent several days in the hospital to have his arteries cleaned and missed the last two visiting matches. He'll be returning to the Nuevo Gasómetro this Sunday afternoon: “It would be worse for my heart if I was at home watching the game alone; I'd rather be with friends if they lose.” Which is not to say there is resignation to lose but the debates about possibilities and realities are beside the 'real' point.

And I think that is the feeling underlining the 'hope' for San Lorenzo fans: the need be with the club and all that it represents. There will be time later to fight over the politics of poor performances. In the past two days the ticket sales for the final match of the tournament have exploded. Yesterday there was a line-up five blocks long in the city centre office, two blocks at another location, to buy tickets. I imagine many fathers, uncles and older relatives who don't normally go to the cancha anymore will be holding those tickets, standing beside the family and friends that share their passion for their club. Hundreds, if not more, will wake early Sunday before the match to make a pilgrimage to the Basilica of Luján asking for a favour or some luck.

San Lorenzo de Almagro the club is transcending San Lorenzo the team. Hinchas are pleading among themselves through social media that difficult times need not lead to violence; to be different from the riots that followed River Plate's relegation last year.

"This Sunday, whatever happens, do not forget San Lorenzo de Almagro. The club is of the people of San Lorenzo, not the players nor the leaders; it is ours. Beyond the anger and sadness, together we will not hurt the club. Honour the San Lorenzo that we Cuervos deserve because no one else will. We remind ourselves what we think of those who destroy their own clubs. Be the example we always are. We are San Lorenzo; do not forget it"

Whatever happens on the pitch is bound to bring strong emotions for the tens thousands of Cuervos in the stadium (and many more watching on television) – elation at one more breath or great sadness – but all in the hope to share the experience with people who will understand 'what it feels like'.