Are You Ready For Some Futebol?

It's like Parachute Day in Gym Class - except replace the Second Graders with riotous soccer hooligans

Like many Americans that grew up in the suburbs, I spent much of my early childhood playing soccer in a local town league. Every Saturday, wearing shin-guards, Umbro shorts and a colored T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a local pizzeria, car dealership or weird fraternal organization (i.e. Knights of Columbus) – I would chase the soccer ball around like an idiot while my parents watched from the sidelines (pretending to be interested). Even at that early age, I was mostly looking forward to eating orange slices at half-time or going to the post-game pizza parties.

By the time I entered Middle School, my interest in soccer was already waning. I was playing on my school's intramural team, where the extent of my participation involved hanging back on defense and toe-balling the shit out of the soccer ball whenever it came near. I just wanted to go home and play GoldenEye.

Once I reached high school, I could officially give two craps about soccer. Every four years, I'd watch the World Cup, but mostly used it as an excuse to party. Or even worse, watch the Women's World Cup for the same reason. (PS: I guarantee no one will remember stupid Abby Wombach's name two months from now).

...that is, of course, until I moved to Brazil.

In Brazil, soccer, or futebol ("foo-chee-bol") engulfs you. Brazilians eat, drink and breathe soccer. And while the Brazilian National Team is all well and good - the real action is with the local Brazilian club teams (particularly in the Brasileiro Série A division).

The São Paulo Teams

In São Paulo, there are three different soccer teams that play in the Brasileiro Série A division - and the people here live (and occasionally die) based on the team they pick as their favorite. Interestingly, as the supporters for each team are divided among class, race, religious and political lines, choosing a favorite team also reveals a lot about yourself and your personality.

The three teams are as follows:

• São Paulo Futebol Clube (SPFC): The São Paulo Futebol Clube (SPFC) is regarded as the soccer team for São Paulo's Upper Crust. The SPFC, known as the "Tricolor" because of their red, black and white uniforms (which, of the three, I consider only one an actual color), is the soccer team for São Paulo's wealthy socialites, white-collar workers and celebrities. However, most Paulistas will let you know that the SPFC's biggest fans are actually girls, Bambis (i.e. homosexuals) and the Japanese. 
   

• Palmeiras: Palmeiras is the soccer team for São Paulo's Italian immigrant population (which is actually surprisingly large - it's pretty much the Staten Island of South America). You would think that the rival fans would have some great, racially-charged insults for Palmeiras fans - but instead, they just call them "porcos" (“pigs”). Come on, Brazilians, you can do better than that.
   

• Corinthians: The oldest, and arguably most famous soccer team in São Paulo is the Corinthians. Known as "O Time Do Povo" (“The Team Of The People”), this is the team for São Paulo's poorer working class. Let's just say that if Bruce Springsteen was Brazilian, he would write a song about the Corinthians. It's said that if you're a fan of the Corinthians, you are a criminal, you live in a favela (i.e. the slums) and you are missing teeth.

I am a Corinthians fan.

And I went to a game.

The Game

The only real way to get to Pacaembu Stadium, the Corinthians' home stadium, is to walk. The stadium is located right in the heart of São Paulo (right near one of its many clogged arteries) at the bottom of a steep hill - so the taxis can only bring you so close. Following a horde of rowdy, drunk Corinthian fans, I managed to navigate the winding roads, intersections, and roundabouts to arrive at Pacaembu about an hour before the game.

Walking up to Pacaembu, I immediately noticed that the stadium was surrounded by police officers - mounted police, armed police, police in riot gear, etc. Apparently the Corinthians were on a losing streak – and the fans were getting a bit “rambunctious.” The police presence, combined with the stadium’s austere stone walls and barbed-wired fences, made Pacaembu look more like a prison. Fittingly, the swarms of Corinthians fans, in their black and white striped jerseys, made it look as though the prisoners had escaped and had taken over the penitentiary.

Before the start of the first half, the “prisoners” had gathered in front of the stadium, where they were participating in a pep-rally / mini-riot. In the middle of the otherwise empty parking lot (minus several very old and very dented cars), the fans had formed a mosh-pit, in which a mass of sweaty degenerates were chanting and waving flags embroidered with the Corinthians logo (which, oddly, is nautically themed – incorporating an anchor and two boat oars). Meanwhile, from the steep hills surrounding the parking lot, a few sadists were lighting fireworks and dropping them down into the crowd – each one exploding with a gunshot-like BANG. However, this didn’t seem to bother the army of police officers, who just seemed amused by the whole thing.

Safely inside The Green Zone

With fireworks exploding overhead, I managed to push my way through the battlefield, stopping at a quieter spot in the back of the parking lot apparently reserved for gringos and women. Across the street from where I stopped, lined up on the opposite curb, were vendors selling cans of beer out of Styrofoam coolers. Every few minutes, one of the vendors would step off the curb, carefully cross the street into the parking lot, and sell as much beer as they could before being spotted by the police. Once spotted, they would sprint back across the street to the safety of the opposite curb. Apparently, it’s illegal to sell beer in Pacaembu’s parking lot, and this is the one thing that the São Paulo police actually choose to enforce. So each game day, Pacaembu’s parking lot turns into a giant game of Tag between the beer vendors and the cops – except the vendors get “tagged” with billy-clubs. Weirdly, it’s not illegal to sell beer from anywhere outside the parking lot, and it’s not illegal for fans to drink beer inside the parking lot – so, like many things in Brazil, it all makes very little sense to me.

About twenty minutes before the game, I chugged my illegally-bought beer and filed into the stadium with the rest of the crowd. Walking into Pacaembu, the place was pure pandemonium. Everyone was on their feet, screaming some inexplicable chant in Portuguese, and unspooling giant banners as large as entire sections of the stadium.

With the help of their own percussion section, the Corinthians’ most hardcore fans were leading stadium-wide sing-a-longs from their designated areas within Pacaembu. These fans, each belonging to different fan club (with its own goofy name and logo), were like the spirit squads at any college basketball game - except with a higher arrest record.

The more notable Corinthian fan clubs are as follows:

Seriously, who the hell drew this?

• Gaviões de Fiel: These trouble-makers, whose symbol is a hawk, are considered to be biggest thugs out of all the fan clubs. Supposedly, a group of Gaviões showed up to the Corinthians’ training grounds a few days earlier to throw rocks, threaten the players, and demand a win. The Gaviões have won “Most Likely to Incite a Riot” in the Corinthian fan club superlatives for forty years in a row.

• Camisa 12: This fan club’s symbol - a muscle-bound, blonde-haired boy - looks like something I would have drawn on my Trapper Keeper in 7^th grade to look cool.
  

• Pavilhão 9: I’m not sure how this club expects to be intimidating when its symbol is one of the Beagle Boys from Duck Tales.

Alternatively, any opposing fans brave enough to show up were allotted a tiny section of the stadium as far away from the Corinthian fan clubs as possible – and were almost outnumbered by the amount of riot police that surrounded them. I’m still not sure if the police were there to protect the opposing fans from the Corinthians fans, or vice versa. Either way, the police made sure that there were at least twenty empty seats between them and everyone else.

Fun Game: Determine the ratio of riot police to opposing fans!

The game itself, in which the Corinthians faced Bahia (from Brazil’s northeast region), was an exciting display of athletic ability and faked injuries. Additionally, the Corinthians fans were nice enough to teach me some new Portuguese phrases to use during the game:

• “Filho da puta!” (“Son of a bitch!”): To be screamed at every second of the game at everyone for every reason.
   
• “Caralho!” (“Big dick!”): Actually translates closer to “Shit!” in English. To be used whenever a player misses a goal, gives up the ball, gets a yellow card, etc.
   
• “Vai tomar no cu!” (“Go take it up the ass!”): To be yelled at the referee. A lot.

So while I still don’t know how to order a meal properly in Portuguese, I do know how to tell someone to take it up the ass. Such is life.

Thankfully, the Corinthians ended up winning the game, scoring a goal against Bahia late in the second half. The Gaviões, also thankfully, decided not to burn the stadium to the ground.

However, the whole experience has left me completely hooked on soccer. I’m actually watching games without the promise of orange slices, pizza or beer - and I’m even caring about the results. I don’t even mind when the game ends in a 0-0 tie (okay, admittedly, this one still stings a little bit).

Who knows if this trend will continue when I’m back in the United States? Maybe I’ll find myself watching every soccer game on TV – searching for ESPN Deportes and wearing my brand new Abby Wambach jersey. Or maybe I’ll just go back only giving a crap every four years.

But, honestly, who cares? For now it’s “Vai Corinthians!”

…and “Vai tomar no cu!”