Sep 2nd, 2008
Football Match at Maracanã
Sunday morning George and I woke up and began wandering down Avenue Atlantica in search of a cafe. We hadn’t walked for longer than ten minutes when we heard someone shouting our names from down the street. In a twist of fate we had actually bumped into one of the three people we knew in Rio, Felipe. Him and his brother were visiting their Grandfather for Sunday lunch and on their way in had spotted “two strange guys” walking down the street.
They invited us to have lunch with them and despite our protests and what I believed to be a slight imposition we ended up having lunch with their family on Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed a home cooked meal of pasta primavera before heading off to Maracanã to watch the Flamengo football club take on Fluminense in a “friendly.”
Standing outside the stadium, waiting in line for tickets amidst a chaotic mass of Brazilian soccer fans I was fully expecting an overwhelming, daunting experience but was pleasantly suprised when we entered the stadium and found it to be a controlled, pleasant environment. We promptly found four great seats at midfield and plopped down.
About thirty minutes before the game commenced it got interesting as the Flamengo fans (which included two large fan clubs) began singing team songs and waving flags. I did my best to join in despite having zero aptitude in both Portuguese and football etiquette.
The game itself was pretty exhilirating and I found myself completely engaged in the game throughout its entire duration. There was a kinsmanship that exuded throughout the Flamengo fans, which culminated in a tremendous uproar when Flamengo scored their first goal to tie the game at 1-1. As we hopped up and down like lunatics shouting “gooooooaaaaaalllllll” while hugging one another it did strike me for just a minute that I had absolutely no reason to be so happy about the score but the thought passed in an instant as I let myself get caught up in the celebration.
As the game progressed into the second half I did notice that similar to the previous night at the club in Lapa, there was really no aggression or friction on display. I attribute some of this to the generally amiable attitude of the people in Rio and also some to the fact that alcohol isn’t allowed in the stadiums - a regulation I think some American stadiums might want to consider.
We left shortly before the end of the game (it ended 2-2 with a Flamengo goal in the final two minutes) and headed back, exhausted after another amazing experience in Rio.
