San Lorenzo soccer game

Che, boludos!

I've just returned from my first local soccer game. It's a division 1 team based in the neighborhood I live in, the San Lorenzo equipo. Well, it was certainly different than the Argentina - Spain game I went to the other day, where we sat up close and gave a few mild WOOOOOOOO cheers (yeah, we were those Americans). Luckily, today I went with my Argentinean room mate Lucia and her male friend from San Lorenzo's swim team -- very helpful. At this match, we were in the section where you stand and try to weasel your way to a good spot to see the field.
I went without even my cell phone, but it was killing me the whole time that I couldn't take pictures. Next time, I'll find a way to smuggle in my smaller camera because I just have to. That is all. It was pretty breathtaking. Everyone was going wild!! In the middle standing sections, the soccer hooligans stand on the railings of the stadium stairs, clutching the long banners that stripe the entire audience from top to bottom. The songs that everyone knows -- except me, of course -- are long and actually have a tune. They're pretty offensive, and specific to the area from which the team originates. Little kids were on their parents' shoulders, clutching the poor man/lady's hair and hooting along with the rest of them. Markedly more spirited than the national game, even though no one scored a single friggin' goal.
After the game, the true quilombo started... and I thought the game had been a wild experience. As a rule, the visiting team's fans leave before the home team's, for safety reasons. At the national game, that seemed like just a formality. At this game, I understood why. As the other fans were leaving, the San Lorenzo fans were screaming profanities and upping the insult ante on their songs to the point where I was damn happy there was an enormous field to separate us.
When we were waiting at the top of the cancha for a long, long time, watching the rival fans lose their shit on the other side of the field, my nose really started to burn. Then, I heard gun shots from the other side of the stadium and ambulances started driving across the field. Of course, I asked Lucia what in god's name was going on, my nose and eyes streaming. Oh, it's tear gas. The police are trying to control the fans from the other team because they're causing problems in the parking lot. The tear gas obviously didn't stay put and was wafting all over us. Most people seemed very relaxed about it and simply pulled San Lorenzo flags or jerseys over their faces. The gunfire continued, and was apparently "just" rubber bullets being fired by the police at the rowdy fans. I saw policemen in riot gear taking them down and potentially using a water cannon as well. Ah, futbol.
We got out unscathed, apart from the molestation of the tear gas. The parking lot was absolute mayhem, and getting to the car felt like running around during a legitimate riot. But here I am at home, exhausted yet safe. I'll go back next week to take pictures.

Ciao, siesta time.

PD. Look at the bottom left corner of the pic and you´ll see my little ¨blonde¨head! It got way more crowded... this is when we were playing it safe.