Tickets to this game are just about impossible to get, but they release them a little bit differently than in the US, so you don't need to get them years ahead of time. The assigned seats were offered a few weeks ago, and got nabbed up quick. There are several thousand standing room only tickets that get distributed through various channels (like at the opposing team's stadium, by mail to club members, etc.), but never online or anything. If you want a ticket, you have to work for it. This morning, 4000 standing room tickets were released (the only ones offered to the public, and the last available spots anywhere in the stadium). I knew this would be too good to miss.
Yesterday afternoon, some friends and I were talking about camping out at the stadium to get our tickets, but no solid plans were made. Around 1:00am, I called the only one who's phone number I knew. No answer. [This particular group of North Americans all live in a dormitory, the alternative to a homestay. It's kind of like a brewery, but with more alcohol. Needless to say, they're not really here for the language. But they are fun!] So, I called again in a bit; my friend picked up and once I heard the noise in the back ground, I knew this was going to be tough. "Woooo!!!! Myles!!!!! Yeah, so, like, someone bought a few liters, and we're having a dorm party." You don't say. I reminded her about the game, and she said she'd call me in a bit. Now, I just had to keep myself awake.
The minutes pass like hours, and I ran out of crosswords. I decided to go over to the stadium around 3, to see how busy it was. Even then, there was a pretty decent sized pack of people forming. Around 4:30, I gave up on her and succumbed to my sleepiness. I was pissed, but too tired to put up much of a fight. But just as I was falling asleep, beep-beep, she calls. I told her that I was down for the count and to go ahead without me. I went to bed, but I couldn't fall asleep because of the ass kicking Bad Myles was giving Good Myles. "Well, I could do homework tomorrow...You pansie, how many riotus soccer games will you get the chance to go to...but I'm so tired..." Bad Myles won.
I called my friend and told her that I'd meet them at the stadium. After a minor wrong-bus scare, I found my way back to the stadium, and the crowd was huge. Thankfully, my friends beat the big after-club rush, so I hopped in line with them, to the undoubted irritation of several porteños, but nobody said anything, I was hardy the first. Of course, my friends were trashed, so us gringos stood out like, well, like 5 Americans at a soccer game. By 6:00, we were all nestled in our spots watching the sun come up over River Plate Stadium.
Well, some of us saw it.
Around 8:00, things atarted getting interesting. About every twenty minutes, or so, there'd be some murmuring in the crowd, and all of the sudden, everybody would stand up and start running. All we ended up doing was packing more and more people into an already small space, but at least it offered some excitement. The police showed up about then, too, in full riot gear, no less. Every third one had what was more of a portable cannon than a shotgun, so nothing serious broke out, but every now and then, we'd see them go into the crowd and pull out a few drunks. This sobered up my friends quite well.
The stadium was conveniently located right next to a pedestrian overpass, so there was quite a bit of heckling to keep me entertained. Most of it was harmless whistling at the girls that walked by, but when a fan for the other team walked by, I learned about 8000 new insults in Spanish.
At 9:30, the gates opened, and mass chaos broke out. People were running at full sprint, although the pack was way too dense for anyone to move. Saying that it was the worst crowd control that I've ever seen implies that there was some degree of crowd control. But after about 2 hours of pushing--and getting pushed--through the crowd, I finally got to the ticket counter. I asked them who was playing, they didn't find it funny. But I got a ticket. As I was walking out to regroup with my friends, I was offered several times more than what I paid ($5), but no amount of money could have convinced me. I worked my ass off for that ticket, and I'm going to the game!
I got home at 11:00am, and with the exception of the time taken to write this positing, I plan on sleeping straight up to the game. I'll let you all know how it goes, but if the ticket line was any indication, it should be quite a story!
M
