joga bonito

Viernes, 2 de Marzo, 2007

So no trip to Argentina would be complete without a futbol game. Or at least that was my take, but I am a bit of a footie fanatic. So tonight Greg and I went to see Boca Juniors from Buenos Aires play Cianciano, a top Peruvian team, in the Copa Libertadores.

[Sidebar for those of you who know anything about soccer: Boca is the top team in Argentina at the moment. Diego Maradona used to play for them and their current star player is Riquelme, who some of you will remember from last summer's World Cup. The Copa Libertadores is the (Latin) American equivalent of the European Champions League.]

Earlier today, Greg and I visited the interesting and storied Recoleta cemetary, where Eva Peron and many other prominent Argentines are buried (although interred is probably a closer description, as this cemetary has more mauoleums than graves in the ground). We also visited the rather vine Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, which I would highly recommend, especially if you want to see impressionist and post-impressionist works by artists like Manet, Sisley, Gaugain, Degas and Picasso that have escaped the clutches of European and American museums.

Becuase of a punishment from the soccer authorities here for previous violence on the part of fans and/or the players (my Spanish is too poor to quite grasp the full story), the soccer game was moved from Boca's home stadium in La Boca, a Buenos Aires neighborhood, to San Lorenzo, a further afield suburb and in a more dangerous part of town, especially for turistas. The area around the stadium is close to a slum. Maybe not in comparison to parts of Mexico City, say, but certainly by Argentinian "standards."

I had bought the tix from an agency, so they provided transportation to and from the stadium from our hotel--very cool. So it was me, Greg, about 7 Swedes from Gothenborg (don't ask) and one guy from England on the minibus to the game.

As we neared the stadium, we heard the stream of police sirens and saw the flashing blue lights behind us--it was the two team coaches apoproaching the stadium with their police escorts. We saw the players cruise by us one lane over on their buses. Cool.

The fans are quite amazing. The barras bravas (the loyal fans, some of whom occasionally cause trouble) were in full force, with drums and chants that did not cease for the duration of the entire game. The unveiling of giant Boca banners were an added visual bonus, that must have covered about 3,000 fans at a time.

The game, which was supposed to start at 9pm but probably started closer top 9.30pm (the TV people would just have to wait): Boca had a multitude of chances in the first half. Palermo hit the post once, and other players narrowly missed many more times. They were unlucky, and the Peruvians had clearly set out their stall for a draw. It looked like it was going to be one of those days. 

In the second half Boca came out determined, but were again frustrated. Cianciano, generally playing a conservative game, had the occasional break and might have scored with about 20 minutes remaining.

But then late in the second half, the ball was knocked back by a forward to Ibarra, a defender who had advanced to about the edge of the penalty area (18 yards out). I was seated along the halfway line, directly between Ibarra and the goal. He flighted the ball so beautifully and purely. I saw it rise from the green grass and head directly for the top left corner of the goal. This shot was never going to be saved. The stadium erupted. (Always interesting when you see grown men hugging and kissing each other at a football match; some had tears in their eyes.)

Boca won 1-0. We left happy. And then went to dinner, where Greg and I just made the 1am kitchen closing at a cool restaurant/bar called Bar Dansen in the Recoleta/Retiro district of BA. And now it's after 3 and I'm tired. Chau!