Last week we went to see a soccer game between two regional rivals at the stadium in Montevideo. We sat in the middle section between the two goals, and there was a mix of fans wearing the color's of both teams all around us, but the most dedicated fans sit behind the goals on either side. Both of these sides had drums to keep the beat of chants, songs, and cheers that these spectators called out for the entire game. The songs would get louder whenever their team was doing well, or when the fans for the other team started a song war, or just because things were getting a little dull. We couldn't really understand the words to most of these songs, but Colter was able to translate the simplest one after looking one word up in the dictionary:
"Ole!
Ole, Ole, Ole!
$&#*^ you,
amp;#*^ you,
$&#*^ you."
amp;#*^ you."
Unfortunately, I don't really care to tell you what that word was. We later found out from the local Uruguayan who took us to the game that pretty much all the songs are like this. They take soccer pretty seriously.
But songs are not the only way fans show their support. For almost 45 minutes before the game started, there was some sort of warm-up team that scrimmaged on the field as the stadium filled. Throughout this pre-game, we started to notice that the occasional firework would shoot out from the top of the north side of the stadium. After looking closer, we realized that these were actually coming from within the crowd of fans sitting in the bleachers. We never did figure out how they were doing this and if it was illegal or not. Just as we were about to decide that the scrimmage team was the main event despite their strange colors, a whistle was blown and one of the real teams entered the field. At this moment, A battery of rockets and sizzlers erupted from the northern bleachers while flags waved through clouds of confetti. The bombardment lasted for at least five minutes, using more ammunition that I can possible imagine being smuggled in. And still, after all this there was enough left for the occasional mortar throughout the game. I wish I had brought my camera to show you just how many fireworks the crowd set off.
When the other team came on, I expected to see a similar spectacle, but the southern bleachers had no fireworks. What they did have were giant torch flares, which bellowed huge clouds of smoke that covered the Nacional fans in smog. There were also an equal number of flags and a giant jersey about forty people wide and twenty rows tall. I had to wonder what would happen if one of this jersey or a flag or one of those little pieces of confetti caught fire. Every seat was filled, and there is apparently no rule against spilling out into the stairways to sit down. Most things are sort of relaxed here.
On our way back we could see a short, small fight between fans of different teams across the street. This used to be a huge problem, but since then the police have really started cracking down on fan violence. We had to get patted down before entering (though apparently they weren't checking for fireworks), and there were barricades and soldiers who looked like S.W.A.T. men on horseback all around the perimeter.
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