Fútbol

" Say, Chile, how about we just give up this soccer thing and start three-legged racing professionally? Look at us, we're naturals!"

"Fat chance, Uruguay. I am going to need both my legs to kick your butt."

(SPOILER ALERT: CHILE WINS 2-0! VIVA CHILE!)

Last night I attended my first Chilean soccer game, Chile vs. Uruguay.

What a blog-worthy experience.

Starting about three blocks outside of the stadium, people were vending everything from flags to jerseys to ferocious-looking sausages loaded into shopping carts.

The stadium itself was jam-packed with chilenos, clad in said jerseys, their bellies likely stuffed with those suspicious slabs of meat.

Once you passed through the gates, the hollering never stopped. I did not always know exactly what everyone was yelling, but I knew it was profane. And it was coming from the throats of 45,000 red-blooded chilenos.

Then again, how could you not cheer when your nation is battling another nation on astroturf?

It's like the Olympics, only way more often, with far more rivalry, and with way less figure-skating.

However, the security at the game was tight.

Seriously.

I bought a ticket after most of the gringos bought theirs, and so I wound up with a different section. I was thinking switching sections would be no big deal. I would just pop over to the other side of the stadium and camp out...

Wrong.

The sections were divided with fences and barbed wire. And police officers.

So I was carried into the stadium upon the crest of a wave of chilenos, completely alone.

But not really alone at all, as I was surrounded by 44,999 other people.

At first, I was quite worried.

"Me? Alone at a Chilean soccer game? This is like Where's Waldo: Gringo Edition! I hope I live to blog about this..."

But once I was swimming in the sea of red, cheering Chi-Chi-Chi, Le-Le-Le, VIVA CHILE!, I caught the contagious excitement.

Apparently others in my section were excited, too, because they set off heavy-duty, fire-spewing sparklers after Chile scored the first goal.

But the police seemed unconcerned, so I followed suit and enjoyed the spirit of the game.

My first Chilean soccer experience was a success; first and foremost, Chile won.

But second, and perpaps more importantly, I found myself in the unlikeliest

of places, in the middle of thousands of screaming, mulletted, red-jerseyed ruffians, wearing a bandana and a purple-fringe purse, feeling more out of place than ever, and yet, at the same time, feeling like a part of something beautiful and strange and right.

GOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!

(Translation: Goal!)