war is peace

so in terms of soccer, everyone knows that brasil is... well, brasil. But to put it into comparison, I think the only place that might be similar to the Maracana is where Boca plays in Buenos Aires, and I'm not even sure if that is fair to the Maracana. If the intensity of going to a European game could be compared to watching Saving Private Ryan in unbelievable HD quality (and thus watching a game on TV could be compared to watching MASH in black and white with poor sound), I think it would be fair to describe the Maracana (where the Flamengos play here in Rio) as storming the beaches of Normandy in person. To begin, the physical description:

The Maracana used to be the world's largest stadium. Having once held 200,000 people, it was forced to install seats for the world club championships about 5 years ago. Now, it only holds about 90,000, but as we all know, its not the size of the dog in the fight, but rather the size of the fight in the dog. There is a video screen on either side and a score board too, but no clock and no PA system of any sort. The player introductions was really cool beacuse of this. Instead of them being announced and coming out, fans scream a starter's name until he acknowledges with a wave, and then they move onto the next player. Installing seats a few years back was actually a pretty dumb idea because now everyone just stands on the seats and screams, and those who are short stand on the armrests or the back of the seat only (much safer than just cramming too many bodies into a stadium). At all times during the game, including before and after, 2 helicopters circle overhead; every now and then, the 3rd or 4th swoops in from afar just to remind you that they are still there. Although it is general seating by section, there is a barrier separating the fans from the away team section to prevent fights (upon losses, fans have been known to pull the plumbing out of the bathrooms). In addition, in front of the first row, there is a 15 foot drop that leads to the (not filled) moat. Of course there are police guards in SWAT outfit in the stands, and k9 units on the field in case anyone really wants to test the sharpshooters in helicopters. And of course, the Army provides security outside of the stadium too. I forgot to mention that after the game, in the metros (both near the stadium and far), polie officers were making sure that Flamengo fans were in the front half of the subways while the Botafoga fans were in the back half to prevent any post-game brawls.

The internal dynamics are too hard to do justice, and not attempting, will therefore summarize it as follows: everyone is fucking nuts. Any call or foul against the Flamengos led each person in the stadium to react as if his/her mother had been personally insulted in front of them. Any Flamengo mistake led each person to scold the player as if he was their child who ran away. And of course, every goal led to such levels of ecstasy that most of us will unfortunately never comprehend.

Before the game, there was a 150 person band playing for 15 minutes. I didn't hear a single note. During the game, all of Botafoga's fans were cheering as loudly as we were. I didn't hear a single sound (except once everyone was appalled by Bota's goals and was almost in tears). And I had no idea of course about time or calls in the game because there is no clock and the refs whistle can never be heard. In case I thought I had gone deaf from the favella party last night (which I finally got rid of the ringing sound in my ears after 36 hours), this game definitely made hearing extremely difficult. Sacrafices.

Standing in this massive emotional drain, I realized how the Maracana may be the closest actual installment of 1984. No other place has such an egalitarian status - of course the inner-party members are those in skyboxes and the outerparty members are those sitting at midfield on the second level - where the individual is completely absorbed by the crowd. Of course as in 1984, the society must be at war in order to preserve the peace (hence the opponent), and I'm sure in their sections it was the same way. The major difference of course was the necessity of emotion, instead of the removal entirely. Unlike the Orwellian society's complete distate for love, the love of Flamengo fans makes the atmosphere a show in itself, if you so choose not to watch the game. I thus was fortunate enough to get to engage with people with ecstatic smiles on their faces in the 1st half when we went up 2-0. I did have to watch as everyone was on the verge of tears as we let up 2 goals in the second half. Luckily we won 4-2 in PKs, or else the city may have burned down. I forgot to mention that only non-alcoholic beer may be served now because of riots and fights that used to happen (in case you didn't believe the last sentence).

So here is just 20 seconds of people going fairly normal (when in the lead). After going silent when Botafoga scores however, everyone just screams twice as loud to say 'F U' to the Botafoga fans. And just to go back to my last post for a minute, it's pretty crazy how the 2 types of young adults can still interact in the same night club - and how different this night club is from the non-favella night club (which is the exact same as ones in the US and Europe) from the previous night.