Chile con Ecuador

I wasn't even sure if I was understanding correctly. 


There are times my abilities (or, lack-there-of) in Spanish lead me to believe I am being asked inane and meaningless questions, only to come to the realization moments later that these are usually normal questions that I have been unable to follow. 


"Would you rather be on the normal bus or the singing bus?" 


Right? Initially confusing, especially for someone coming from a country whose best chant is simply repeating tirelessly, or rather, pretty tiredly, "USA-USA-USA!" (I've never heard a "USA" chant lasting more than 30 syllables). 


I opted for the singing bus. How else would I rather spend my first live professional soccer game - especially one of international magnitude, where Chile would be taking on Ecuador? For Chile, it was a game for mainly jockeying for positioning in the South American continental standings, having already qualified a week earlier for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa with a win over Columbia. For Ecuador, a win and an Argentine loss would mean qualifying for "los mundiales." 

The ride by bus to Santiago from Valparaíso is about two hours, and I'd be surprised if we tallied more than 15 minutes of silence. There are roughly eight prominent Chilean soccer songs, only three or four of which I've mastered lyrically. However, just slamming the beat into the seat in front of me, my knuckles red with energy, was enough to show my participation. Anything I could've done would've been drowned out anyway by the two drums, a snare and a bass, brought onto the bus and stationed in the back row. 

The game itself was an incredible experience. I arrived almost 5 hours earlier than game-time to claim my seat in the general admission seating section. It may as well have been standing only - from 2:30 PM until the end of the game at nearly 10:00, I was on my feet, jumping and singing and flailing along with 70,000 other fanatics who would put the best of the Cameron Crazies to shame.

What about this world is so different than mine? Why aren't Philadelphia fans - known as some of the most passionate, and certainly most brutal, in the world of sports - as fanatical, devoted, emotionally invested in their teams like South Americans? Why does an usher in a yellow "STAFF" t-shirt restrain hundreds of fans in each section, while there were literal SWAT teams of Chilean Police in every section, armed with full riot gear, just to keep the peace? Why were there Chileans who snuck flares into the stadium and lit them off during the game, and there are times we don't even stand for the starting lineups?

Do they have less to care about? Less to devote themselves to? Fewer diversions to dilute their passions? I don't think so - They have the same preoccupations about work, family, government, as we do - that I've learned first hand living with a Chilean family. Is there more rivalry between South American countries than between teams in the US? No way - I doubt any rivalry in the world could top Duke/UNC, Yankees/Red Sox, Michigan/Ohio State. 


To me, these passions are passions of Nationality. Simply, South Americans are more concerned about national identity than Americans. Haven't you ever offended a Cuban or a Bolivian by calling him Mexican? The United States of America is the most powerful country in the world - and we're never shy about reminding everyone else about it. If we happen to lose upcoming matches in November to Slovakia or Denmark, the majority of Americans would not be aversely affected - We're still the best, regardless of what the international standings say, right?  That's not a luxury the rest of the soccer-loving world has, though.


For Chileans, and for the rest of the world, really, the standings and outcomes of their national football clubs is a direct reflection of the country itself - its what they cling to, how they define themselves. Ever wondered why the Olympics has rapidly lost popularity in the United States since the 1980's? Since capitalism emerged victorious, who cares who can pole vault highest or hurl the shot put furthest? But remember when it wasn't so clear - when the US Hockey team toppled the U.S.S.R. in 1980? It was entitled a "Miracle on Ice." 


The argument that soccer is less popular in the United States, and that is the only difference, doesn't hold weight with me. The World Baseball Classic made more headlines over the debate of whether players were overextending themselves and doing disservices to their Major League clubs - the fact that Japan shut down the American club in the semi-finals didn't bother too many folks the following day. 


The 2010 World Cup in South Africa will be an incredibly interesting series of events, not only in soccer, but also as an examination of cultural anthropologies. How will American fans, and American players, react to the first international competition since the dramatic deficits experienced by the American economy? How will we defend ourselves? How will we react for the first time in a long time that we may appear not-so-powerful?


All in all, time to write some soccer songs.