You see, one of the things I like to do most when visiting a foreign country is go to a soccer game. And the gods of sport have blessed me well: it seems that whenever I show up somewhere, there´s a really big game happening, and I manage to find out about it, and get a ticket.
In Britain it was Arsenal-Liverpool. It was sold out, of course: They are 2 of the best sides (teams) in the UK. I went to the stadium, avoided the $150 a ticket scalpers, and my god of sport in the guise of a kind black man comes up to me and says, wanna come in with me? I have an extra ticket. $30 (face value, for one of the most important matches in England). Those fish and chips wrapped in newspaper never tasted so good.
In Holland it was Ajax-Fijnord, the 2 best teams facing off in the championship. My father´s friend just gave me his 2 season tickets. I´m not sure what was more awesome - the game or the Dutch riot police on horse back (not very intimidating). Actually, I do - it was the game.
Well, last night, it was Saprisa vs. Alajuehla (aka, La Ligua!), Costa Rica´s 2 best teams facing off in game 1 of a 2 game final. Of course this should happen my last night in the country! A new local friend, German, got us the wildly overpriced (not) $14 tickets. We picked up his friend Carlos - they´re both awesome 35 year old Tico (Costa Rican) journalists - and weaved our way the 15 miles to the stadium. German drives like a Nascar racer meets New York cabbie. I´ve really never felt more comfortable in a car, or witnessed a driver more held by the hand of God. Maybe that taxi driver in Rome.
We park in the working class neighborhood where the stadium is, and the energy is pulsing as we stride enthusiastically toward the glowing lights. Young people are dressed in their team´s colors, singing and waving flags. Men and women are hawking empanadas, drinks, and meat on sticks (which Carlos would by me later ... mmmmm).
Change up the food, the language and the color a bit, and this is how I imagine it happens everywhere on Earth. Soccer really does unite us as a species. Get on board, gringos.
OK Krouzman, nuff preachin´. Get to the game, and tell us about this royalty thing.
Well, the stadium is small by American standards - seats maybe 15,000. People are wild with enthusiasm, singing songs that sound rich and complicated to the untrained American ear (God, why don´t WE sing rich cultural songs at OUR events?). In fact, even with my limited Spanish, I now understand they are passionately singing songs that amount to, ¨Ole!¨ and ¨We want our team to win tonight!¨
Anyway, I grab my empanada, spill spicy green pepper onion soup-like substance all over it - and up the sleeve of my completely water proof Arcteryx shell (see previous post on gear), which at this point has mainly served the function of keeping water in rather than out - and we find our seats. Make that yellow concrete blocks. Not very comfy, but who cares.
The game is fucking awesome. Alajuehla (La Ligua) scores a beautiful just before the end of the first half, and the crowd goes wild. Then a minute later a Saprisa player is red carded. Down one player and down one goal, Saprisa doesn´t have much of a chance. So I indulge and flag down the chicken man, who tosses me a box of delicious fried chicken in exchange for my 4 bucks. That might buy you a pretzel at an American stadium. And the chicken was really, really good.
I also take this opportunity to firm up my allegiance - to La Ligua!, of course - much to the chagrin of my friend German, and to the joy of his friend Carlos. And hey, we´re in the Alajuehla stadium, and almost everyone is cheering for La Ligua! When in Rome...
Of course the home team wins, and it´s pandemonium. A few people get mildly out of hand, a good excuse for the stunning beautiful Costa Rica robo cop riot police to unleash a bit. They don´t have a military, so the would be army rangers here have to be content with scowling at 17 year old soccer fans and pushing them in the chest. Not too hard though. Pura Vida!
So, the royalty thing. After the game we drop Carlos (radio host, father of 3, super nice guy) off at his house, and he tells us to hold on a minute. He comes back and proudly and generously hands me an official, old school original (I am told) Ligua shirt! It´s way big, and it´s black and red (for the socialist-anarchist that I am), and it´s fucking perfect. Carlos and German, you are gems.
We go out for a beer, and I start to notice, ¨Hey, I´m getting some good attention for wearing this shirt.¨ Ganamos! says one woman as she claps my hand. We win!
Eh, si, Ganamos. Ganamos!
So it´s obvious what shirt I wear to the airport today. My new Ligua shirt! It´s stunning. Victor, my cabbie for life (salt of the earth), exclaims with joy as soon as he sees me. La Ligua! I beam with pride.
At the airport, I´m celebrated like I´m one of the players themselves. From the homeless guy begging for money at the curb, to the baggage hands, to the airport departure tax guy, to the crew of young guys running ¨security.¨ I´ve never had my hand shaken firmly and gotten such a smile after passing through the metal detector. Or been able to smuggle through so much coke!
I imagine I´m the only non-Tico at the airport today wearing a Ligua jersey. Perhaps tico or non-tico. This has been a fun post, but I´m going to go walk around and flaunt and exchange that knowing Jedi smile with fellow fans, or even the requisite ¨Ligua! Ligua!¨ chant I´ve been greeted with today as I´ve strolled the terminal.
Actually, I´m going to take a seat in that big red VIP chair for a few first and soak in the comfort of this VIP lounge. Yeah, that´s what I´m gonna do.
Viva la Ligua! Viva Futbol!
Pura Vida,
Roni
Another erie twist...
In case you were wondering, I am at the airport. I asked the nice man at information if they have public internet computers, and he said no, only in the VIP lounge, which I could enter for some ungodly fee, like $25.So, I do what I do, which is just walk into the VIP Lounge, past the 3 receptionists, find the computer, and start typing with that of course I belong here vibe. No, you don´t need to see my identification. I´m a Jedi in training, I´m Israeli, and for God´s sake, I´m wearing a Ligua shirt!
1 comment:
fucking awesome.
Post a Comment