Futbol

Problem: How does one capture the hearts of a nation, or at least avoid getting shot by angry fans?

Solution: Score a goal for your national soccer team.

Remember hearing about that dude who, after scoring an own-goal while playing the U.S., went back to Columbia and was promptly shot? That shit was crazy. That's what was going through my head on the way to the Argentina-Columbia soccer game on Saturday night. Am I about to see a riot? Will there be tear gas? What happens if I don't look good in baby blue, the Argentine national colors? WHAT THEN??

Soccer is a serious undertaking in Latin America. When I was a kid, I played for the Dragons. (One time I scored a goal left footed. No big deal. I digress...) We had this kid Brett who was a ball hog. We all thought Brett was a jerk, or as close as a 5 year old gets to being a jerk. Then one day, Brett's dad shows up at the game, screams at Brett during every play, jumps up and down, and almost had a heart attack when Brett scored a goal. I remember this vividly. I remember a vague feeling of 5 year old empathy for Brett, sort of like when Little Foot's mom died in The Land Before Time. Remember that feeling? OK, so we are on the same page.

Basically, all soccer fans in Latin America are like Brett's dad.

Apparently the Argentine authorities have learned from the experience of trying to control millions of "Brett's Dads". There was barbed wire separating the fans from the field. The Columbians had their own seating section with their own entrance, an oddly smart form of discrimination. Periodically, the announcer would get on the PA and give directions as to when which sections would leave first. The powers that be had this thing on lock down.

The game itself, however, was surprisingly tranquil. Argentina scored the only goal sometime in the second half, and I managed to get a video of it (which I will post on facebook when I return home, eager beavers). Yes, the crowd went nuts when this happened. But for the rest of the game, the fans were forced to get psyched about tackles and throw-ins. Not as loco as I would have anticipated, or even would have preferred. Don't get me wrong, it was still pretty wild, and I can understand why fans just lose their freakin minds when really good games happen, but how often do they see them? How good can a game get of the natural limitations of the sport limit scoring to 3 or so goals? I might be sounding like a conceited American, but give me the raw United States excitement of Dirk Nowitzki any day of the week.

I never liked Brett. I never really liked Brett's dad. Maybe I just don't like soccer. But did I have a good time trying to get as loco as possible? Si---even though no one was shot.

P.S. Also, someone spit on us from the second or third level of the stands behind us, and it landed right on my friend Vance's hand. Now THAT shit was crazy.