Three-time World Cup winners. including in 2022, and with arguably the two greatest players in the history of the game in Maradona and Messi, it will surprise nobody to hear that football is huge in Argentina. I have a team in Argentina, and since Nieves’ (my partner) family found out it was Boca Juniors, half of them have been spent considerable time telling me why I should instead be supporting River Plate, another massive Buenos Aires club that this half support.
While in Salta, Fernando, married to one of Nieves’ sisters, Alexandra, got us a couple of tickets for a much-anticipated city derby, between Juventud Antoniana and Central Norte from a cousin. So, the two of us, plus cousin and cousin’s sons, plus a daughter-in-law, all of whom are passionate Juventud Antoniana fans, accompanied us to the stadium for the 5.30 kick off. That the stadium’s backdrop is a pure mountain view on one side, with the opposite one leading to the city, only added to the excitement.
As we neared the stadium, it was clear that there were police everwhere, though I couldn’t see any fans from the away team, Central Norte. As we entered the ground, a policewoman immediately asked me to get rid of a small flag/banner one of the boys had put around my neck. I never wear football paraphenalia, so I was happy to comply. I then asked the police officer why, and she explained that the threat of violence meant that all such displays were banned. In fact, I was later told away fans were also banned, because the threat of trouble was too great.
Shortly after watching a series of mesmerising fan displays (including the unrolling of an enormous flag that covered an entire standing section), a disturbance in part of the ground quickly turned into a mass brawl. After several minutes police arrived to separate the hooligans and then began to fight them back, at which point an unsteady peace broke out. Combat police arrived, all very normal, I was told, which set the scene perfectly to remind me of the bad old days back home.
Growing up in the UK in the 1970s and 1980s, I had seen the worst football violence could throw up, often first hand as I watched my team, Middlesbrough, in both England’s top two divisions. The country’s football landscape reached rock bottom during these times, banned from Europe, dispised abroad.
It only really changed after millions (now billions) of pounds of TV money helped transform things. New or renovated stadiums, more families, worldwide viewing, world-class players, lucrative sponsorships and great managers played key roles, though vast amounts of TV money was arguably the major catalyst. It’s far from perfect today, but it’s a damn sight better than the ‘70s and ‘80s. Argentina simply doesn’t have these financial and other ‘tools’ available to make a transformation possible.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed the game, the spectacle, the utter commitment, fight and good skill of the players, and the fans’ passion (fighting aside). The away team, Central Norte, were the stronger, more attractive, team, and deserved to win, which they did, 1-0. Just before the goal went in, Fernando has asked me to take a photo of the action. Instead I took a video, and with supreb timing captured the goal. I wasn’t about to tell anyone, but I was pleased with the result.
A few minutes after leaving the stadium, I spotted a huge smile on Fernando’s face. ‘You don’t seem very disappointed,’ I said. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘That’s because I’m a Central Norte fan,’ he laughed. ‘I’m delighted! Now, show me that video.’