This past Sunday May 6, 2012 Casa Ita went to its first Soccer game at the Antigua Cuscatlan Stadium.
To give you some context of the magnitude of this game let me inform you that it was the National Championship. The stakes were high, our excitement was palpable and the game was on!
Metapán vs Aguila... the clash of the Salvadoran Titans
We departed the Casas and arrived at the crowded stadium just in time to watch mayhem ensure.
Street vendors lined the entrance to the stadium and made it seem that their particular jersey was the most authentic. They accosted us to know end.
There were middle aged men
sitting on the street making cat calls at the women as they walked by in Jersey's and short shorts. Machismo at its finest.
Scalpers aggressively attempted to sell tickets before the big game was about to start.
Lace and I get our faces painted with the nations colors and we finally enter the stadium. Full of excitement and a healthy dose of hesitancy-- especially considering armed and armored police lined the doorways-- we walked purposely to find and open section to rest our bones a bit.
We were on the side of Metapán, in our blue Romero jerseys, hoping to god we don't get urine thrown on us for not wearing an actual team jersey.Luckily the colors got us by.
The stadium is filled with people. Thousands of screaming fans are already in the stands chanting and cursing profanities at the other sections. All this before the game even starts. Aguila seems to have a good 75% of the crowd and I can't help but worry that we picked the wrong team, and that when the post game fight breaks up we'll be up the proverbial creek with out a paddle.
Tom and I bought Aguila jerseys before the game, just to be on the safe side. We put them in Suly's bag for safe keeping.
The game goes back and forth for a while. There's a lots of excitement in the hot humid air. The sun is beating down hard and focusing fully on the game is impossible. Chanting,
harassing, and general debauchery runs rampant and every spilled beer, loud profanity shouted from behind my right ear, and deafening chant draws me away from the actual action of the game.
Then it happens. Aguila scores off a penalty. The crowd goes berserk. Aguila's side breaks out the giant flag, the newspaper confetti, and the smoke bombs. Its a real classy event as you can tell.
Half time comes. Gracias a Dios! I thought both sides were going to jump the fences and really start playing. I want to buy a burger. I saw a lady with a stand earlier and I try it out. I get in line and it's all downhill from there. No I'm in too deep. The masses have surrounded me. I'm right in front of the grill, trying in vein to not get burnt, and fighting tooth and nail
to get just one burger.
Being polite does not work. Manners have no place in this hoard of
sweaty hungry men. I have to wait two full rounds of cooking to get this burger. I put my hand out for the 85th time and say "Por Fa' Señora" and she places the heavenly sandwich in my clammy palm.
I have to say, it was pretty
damn good, but I don’t think the lady selling them would pass any health codes.
We return to the game and it happens... again! Aguila scores off a fast break. The score is 2-0 and the crowd is even crazier than before. Our side of the stands seem to be losing confidence in Metapán but there as loud as ever. This time it's with indignation for their own team.
Just when all seemed lost, out of seemingly nowhere, Metapán scores! There first goal of the game. The crowd erupts with
less than 5 minutes left in the game.But our rejoicing is short lived as Aguila runs out the clock to become the 2012 Salvadoran National Champions.
I can't say I cared if either team won. I had zero emotional connection to Metapán and the same amount of love for Aguila. But the game was more than the actual play time. It was the experience. It was cheering with the Salvadorans, eating their food, drinking their beer, and being with some of my best friends in this country.
For that reason it is one of my fondest memories i'll take back with me to the states.
Much Love,
Medina
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