My first football match

I am not sure if those Ancient Greeks, Romans or even the medieval European peasants who started kicking around a ball ever thought it would become such a big game. Perhaps they did. But I doubt very much that they envisioned the fireworks, riot squads and toilet paper apparently essential to a football match here in Mendoza.

I went to my first football match last Sunday. I have watched the game on television once or twice and I think anyone who is remotely conscious during the World Cup can just about understand the concept of getting the ball through a net to gain points. So the football itself was no surprise. It was everything around it that took me aback.

Before even embarking on the short walk to the stadium in Parque San Martin I had been warned by many that football was a dangerous game - not for those playing but for the spectators who may be pushed around, mugged or even smacked in the face.

A seething mass of police cars, officers on horses and flashing lights were enough to make me slightly concerned for the safety of my spectacles however we carried on following the sea of blue and white uniformed Godoy Cruz supporters.

Smelling the familiar whiff of Choripan, I bought the obligatory completo to placate my nervous stomach and followed everyone into the stadium. Although not before a police search on the way in.

Estadio Malvinas Argentinas (ahem, time to switch from my English accent and attempt an appalling Australian one) is bigger than I expected, seating just under 50,000 spectators and was built for the World Cup in 1978. Apart from that the stadium was not used for any big matches, as Mendoza did not have a team in the first league. That was until recently.

Godoy Cruz made its way up to the Argentine Football First Division in 2006 and since then Mendoza’s Stadium has been put back on the map. Last Sunday’s match, I was informed, was a bit of a milestone for Godoy Cruz. They had never reached so far in the First Division and so obviously there was palpable excitement in the air.

Supporters thundering big drums, tooting their trumpets and setting off bangers and fireworks made for a colourful tribal procession into the stadium. One half of the stadium was full (obviously the Godoy Cruz side) and on the other end there were only a handful of supporters for Buenos Aires’ Banfield team, who had been smuggled in through the other entrance and were camouflaged in civilian’s clothing to avoid any trouble after the match.

The football fans got busy putting out their banners and flags, while setting off more bangers and fireworks as kick-off approached. Four sets of riot squads moved out to guard the corners of the pitch and sniffer dogs sat hesitantly on the sidelines. Loud boos and whistles heralded the entrance of the opposition and then cheers, whoops and newspaper confetti were thrown as Godoy Cruz walked on - it felt like a pantomime that was only missing a dame.

After a huge build-up the football started. They played well and the goals and almost goals were exciting but to be honest I was more riveted by the action off the pitch, and I wasn’t the only one.

An onslaught of what looked like toilet paper was thrown at the pitch and Banfield’s goalie spent most of the first half tidying up. Water balloons were hurled at the riot squad (although I seriously doubt it was water…) and everyone started jumping and shouting all sorts of obscenities in Spanish.

We were winning so I am not sure why it was necessary to call anyone a ‘c*ncha de madre’ but everyone seemed to feel that way. I found myself stood in front of the loudest supporter of them all who felt impulsed in a tourettes-like manner to shout every obscenity under the sun down my neck every two minutes. Thank you for expanding my vocabulary.

During half time we all sat down to rest our feet and vocal lungs and then it was back up again to shout, jump and avoid all the dangerously low-flying fireworks and water bombs. Godoy Cruz won 2-0 and everyone left happy and peacefully, content that their bad language and toilet paper had nailed the game.

Actually, I bet the Romans would have loved it. I did.