The Onion Bag Soccer Shop Blog: April 2008

Another football quiz at Nevada Smiths last night, another victory for 'Pay The Bill'. Questions were not the usual obscure English variety this night but Pay The Bill prevailed with a line up not seen since a confronational evening in Clancy's Bar on 53rd Street many years ago. Myself, The Bill, Felix and a visiting Stoke City fan, Joe, retained the crown ensuring Pay The Bill's undefeated record remained intact. A signed New England Revolution jersey was the prize and was promptly handed over to Joe as none of us give a flying fuck about the New England Revolution. The Carlsberg flowed as the victory was celebrated and the evening was rounded off with a kebab at that Turkish spot on Houston and Orchard.

Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The following is a brief summary of our trip to Mexico City to see the Copa Santander Libertadores group 5 match between Club America and River Plate. We arrive April 1st, 2008.

Day 1

Flight was at 8:20am so it's an early one for Team Pay The Bill. El Guillermo (The Bill), Mike, The Big E and your's truly. Everyone is hopped up for this trip which culminates with the important Copa Libertadores game. Our two travel companions have never been to Mexico City and to their credit they don't seem to be too worried about the potential intestinal problems most Americans encounter south of the border. First stop in Mexico City is the world famous Tacos Xotepingo. It's almost 3pm and our buzz from the in-flight G 'n T's is long gone, so it's time for some cheap beer! Cubeta de Corona, por favor! (That's a bucket of 12 beers) El Guille says the tacos are the best food he's ever eaten and has vowed to move to Mexico City after only being in the country for 25 minutes. El Guille doesn't like the fact that the itinerary calls for a bit of R & R at our friend Andres' place, even though he admitted that he didn't sleep a wink the night before.

This evening's festivities will include more alcohol, food and watching Pachuca - DC United in the Concacaf Champions Cup at an old school cantina in Plaza Coyoacan. Apparently they only started letting women in this place not even a decade ago! In Italy you go to any restaurant and you can order the house red or white. In Mexico, they have the house beer. Either dark or "clara" (light). We had just polished off all the "clara" they had in the joint when an argentine tango came on the speakers and a couple treated the bar to a tango exhibition. This was the backdrop to El Guille's tales of his first job in construction back when he was 17 and how his boss was afraid of him, go figure! It was surreal to say the least. But the dark beer we were forced to switch to was doing the trick and everyone was in good spirits. From there it was off to El Hijo del Cuervo, another bar in Coyoacan, for a nightcap. Once settled in El Guille treats everyone in the bar to his version of CCR's Born on the Bayou, and proclaims himself mayor of Mexico City.

Our two travel companions have been given two options for tomorrow night's game at the Azteca stadium. Option one, go with Iain to the "palco", which is a luxury box that the owner's hold a 100 year lease over, complete with mini-fridge, private bathroom and TV. Option two, go with me to the away supporters section, high in the rafters of the cavernous Azteca, becoming a certain target for all sorts of projectiles and liquids. Mike chose option one, as he already experienced option two when he came with me to see Argentina-Mexico at the LA Colosseum. El Guille prefers option two. "Are the America fans really going to bother us that much" he asks me. I shrug, who knows what will happen. Then his face lights up, "Maybe.... we'll bother them!"

A long day finally comes to a close as we invade the Siete-Once (7-11) and stock up on bottled water and Gatorade. It's probably a good idea to try and stay as hydrated as possible after drinking as much beer as we had. The traffic right outside our window facing Calzada de Tlalpan is relentless, all the way through the night. Tonight we're so tired that we barely notice the rumbling trucks and screeching motorcycles that have driven us to the brink of insanity on prior visits.

Day 2 - Game Day

We have an early bit of business to attend to, and as soon as we get back to the apartment it's off to the Beer Factory at the Cuicuilco shopping center. El Guille's Arsenal is hosting Liverpool in the Champions League and the big fella' is nervous. So nervous in fact that he can't even eat lunch. After a clear penalty isn't called in favor of The Arsenal, El Guille shoots up out of his chair and storms out of the restaurant to the bewildered look of the entire wait staff and fellow patrons. We continue enjoying our "tubo" (a 4 foot tall tube of beer with a tap at the bottom) but every once in a while we hear loud banging out in the mall. We assume it's El Guille breaking something as Arsenal fail to take the lead and eventually draw 1-1 in the first leg against Liverpool. El Guille had decided to go watch the rest of the game in front of the sporting goods store, Marti, where they put two security guards at the door "just in case". According to El Guille, "who can fucking eat when the game is on?". Apparently his doctor advised him not to watch Arsenal games live as it's bad for his heart. True story!

After the game we split up. Iain, Mike and Andres head off to pick up their palco tickets, while El Guille and I cross the street to the Radisson Periferico Sur. That's where the River Plate delegation is staying and where I'm meeting up with an old friend, Marcelo X Flores, a guy who has been to every corner of the earth following River. Security is tight at the hotel on orders from the club as they don't want the players being bothered by fans. Very fan friendly, wouldn't you say? Regardless, we manage to get past security and meet up with Marcelo and a few others who have made the trip from Buenos Aires in the hotel lobby. The traveling contingent of press are in the hotel bar watching Lanus vs Estudiantes who are competing in one of the other Copa Libertadores groups. Some of the players are hanging around as well including Ortega, Gerlo, Nasuti, and Abreu. All seem to be in a good mood and take plenty of photos with hotel staff and the few fans that made it into the lobby. Marcelo hooks us up with tickets courtesy of Club Atletico River Plate and we're off to the game. We hop in a typical Mexican taxi, one of those small VW Bugs, and 10 minutes later we're at the Azteca parking lot. I only mention this because my partner in crime barely fits in the car, but he's loving the authentic experience!

The River fans are sent up to the top deck of the Azteca, which never ceases to amaze me due to it's sheer size and steepness.

When you get about half way up the ramps leading to the upper deck you start to wonder if you'll see snow at the top, it's literally like climbing a mountain! We finally make it to the top and find we're surrounded by police in riot gear on all sides. We're also warned not to hang any flags or we'll be arrested, and we've been notified that we will be ushered out of the stadium with 5 minutes to go in the game. El Guille is incredulous. "Fuck that! I'm not moving for anyone! I paid to see the game, I'm staying until the end! What if it's a tie?" We point out that at this point there are more police than River Plate fans, but the argies around me are laughing and vowing to follow his lead if he decides to make a stand. We're also watching the game from behind a barbed wire fence, a first for my pal Guillermo who is used to the cushy spectator facilities on offer at American stadiums. I assure him this is somehow a better experience, but I think he's already had enough and wants to go to the palco. We meet a few River fans who drove 10 hours from Guadalajara for the game, and a few more who made the trip from Buenos Aires. At times it feels like we're in Argentina, especially when the insults fly as a local passes by, on the other side of the fence of course, wearing a boca jersey. After speculating that there was no way the police were going to allow beer in our section, we had our first victory of the night when the Corona vendors descended on our section 10 minutes before kickoff. I'll take two please!

As far as the game goes, River was up 1-0 at half time, then America turned it around to 2-1 with back to back goals. River equalized immediately only to fall behind again after poor defending. 3-2 but River found another goal before America substitute and last season's top goal scorer in the Copa Libertadores, Salvador Cabañas, sealed the Aguilas victory at 4-3. Thrilling game, not the result I was looking for but what can you do. Our back 4 were horrible and Cabañas is a monster.

The game ends and the River section, about 800 or so, begins to clear out. As we head down the ramps we encounter our first barrage of missiles. The America fans are on the concourses overlooking our ramp, and we're getting full cups of beer, bottles, miscellaneous object and even a Pepsi cart, thrown at us. When we finally reach the bottom we're stopped by a line of police who have formed a wall around us with their plexiglass shields. I still can't figure out why, but the cops decide to hold us there, I guess they want to let more America fans come out of the stadium to have their shot at us. After about 10 minutes the cops start to advance, shoulder to shoulder. We're on the front line, right behind them, and El Guille, who has had enough of the taunting and projectiles, is trying to reach across the police line to grab an America fan. Let's see... What will be harder to do, bailing El Guille out of Mexican jail, or the three of us jumping on him and stopping him from attacking the America fan. We're just not familiar enough with the Mexican judicial system, so we decided on the second option. It must have looked like OJ trying to bust through 4 tackles as we all were hanging off him begging him to calm down. The police escort us all the way to the parking lot, where we're still getting pelted with all kinds of things. We're sure that if the cops weren't keeping everyone apart, some of these "tough guys" wouldn't be so bold to be throwing things, but what can you do. El Guille still wants to take a few teeth home as souvenirs. The two River fans who drove from Guadalajara offer us a lift out of the parking lot as it's looking sketchy now that the cops are gone and we had no way of getting back to the team hotel..

In the end nothing happened and we made it back to the hotel where we were meeting up with the other River fans. As we waited in the lobby the River Plate bus pulled up and the entire team, coaching staff and club directors filed in past a few waiting fans and into the dining area. The mood was what you would expect after a 4-3 loss, but the players and Simeone still stopped for some pictures and autographs.

From there we went over to Tlalpan to meet up with Andres, Mike and Iain who were already intoxicated with a robust combination of beer and a 4-3 victory.
The debate/insults criss-crossed the table as we debated America's "Historic Win". The last place team in Mexico had just beat the league leaders in Argentina. Fair enough. My argument is that had the result been the other way none of the Argie papers would have had the word "historic" describing the game. What would a night of futbol be without the post-game alcohol-fueled argument?! It's last call, so as customary in Mexico, we order another two rounds of beers. In Mexico last call can be interpreted as, "how many more beers do you want? I have to close the register." A stop at another of the neighborhood taquerias for a 2am dinner and some more arguing before we get back to the apartment exhausted after a full day of revelry. El Guille still can't believe that we were treated like cattle being herded from one place to the other at the Azteca, losing our human dignity in the process. Welcome to futbol, El Guillermo!

Day 3

My friends are still taking great joy at giving me shit for the game. What can you do, every dog has it's day. Today is a tourist day, time to show our pals a little of what Mexico City has to offer. The first adventure is the bus ride. The locals observed in silence as the four loud mouth gringos got on the bus and had a laugh as El Guille climbed aboard the smallest bus he's ever been on. Let's just say there aren't too many people his size down there. We have to be the only idiots taking pictures of ourselves on a city bus. Those pinche gringos!

We switch to the subway and a few stops down the line we're at the huge public square in downtown Mexico City known as the Zocalo.

In all our trips there I've never noticed how all the buildings in that area are tilting due to earthquakes over the years. There's a few buildings that put the Tower of Pisa to shame! We take the guys to a few of our business spots and then check into an old fashioned cantina where a drunken spaniard is slurring through a song for everyone. The bar almost seems too sophisticated at first glance, with it's ornate moldings and wood paneling. Then the sophistication fades away as the spaniard belts out a few lines from a popular Thalia song.

A few drinks there and it's back out into the sun for some more walking around the Centro. We take a quick walk through the Metropolitan Cathedral located in the Zocalo before heading to the rooftop bar at the Holiday Inn overlooking the Zocalo. A perfect place to kill the afternoon and have a few more adult beverages (see this post). Our flight is at noon the following day, but El Guille is already trying to figure out how to stay longer in Mexico. He's ready to pick up shop and move to D.F.!

We

head back to the apartment for a little rest before hitting the town for our last night out. We set up shop in a little dive not far from the apartment and drew our visit to a close. That night we drank as if there was an impending global beer shortage on the way and I can't say for sure how much was consumed, but it's probably in the neighborhood of two six-packs each. As El Guillermo says, "A good time was had by all" When the lights come on in the bar we realize they're kicking us out so off to the apartment we go and finally roll in around 4am, I think. I honestly can't remember what time it was, but I do remember Andres busting out the premium tequila and everyone having a night cap. I think we finally got to bed around 6am, which meant one whole hour of sleep before having to get up and start getting ready to go to the airport. Perfect!

Day 4
Everyone is too exhausted to talk. By the time we clear security and make our way to the airport restaurant, we're all struggling to keep our eyes open. After a quick breakfast we make our way to the gate in the spacious new Terminal 2. Iain has stretched out on a few seats and is asleep, while El Guillermo picks a choice spot on the floor to lay down for a few Z's.

Me and Mike head off to the restaurant in search of coffee. Our flight was delayed, so for some reason we decided we had all the time in the world. We're leisurely enjoying some fruity looking iced coffee when my cellphone rings. It's Iain and he's wondering if we're going to come back to the gate as they've just made the final boarding call. I'd like to think that the lack of sleep was responsible for our brain fart, so we make our way back to the gate not fully understanding that the entire plane has boarded and they're calling us on the PA system. Thankfully there are two other passengers who are even tardier than we are, the nerve!

The flight seemed rockier than usual, but this apparently did not affect El Guille who is lamenting our return to the USA. As soon as the plane touches down and begins taxing to the gate, our rambunctious friend whips off his seat belt and stands up announcing, "Let's make like sheep, and GET THE FLOCK OUTTA HERE!". Mind you, they haven't even turned the lights on yet and we're just a few yards off the runway, but that didn't matter to El Guille who says, "why do you have to go through life obeying the rules all the time?!" We plead with him to sit back down.

Customs and immigration are quick. We're back to my car in no time and heading home. As was summarized a few times by the new mayor of Mexico City, "we ate the mexie food, drank the mexie water, rode the mexie bus and subway, met the mexie police... when can we come back?!"