Tuesday morning I was invited by one of Jorge's friends to go watch the professional team we had gone to see the night before. After going to the training of the 1st Division team of Velez Sarsfield a driver took towards CEFAR. We stopped and he told me to follow him. We walked towards the corner of the street. As we went around I could see a small door. We entered what seemed like the smallest of houses to find quite a surprise for me. Inside was so many people, I began to look around and found little hallways that lead to rooms with 2 double beds in each and then a narrow stairway that lead up to more rooms.
I had found the "hotel" where boys from around the different provinces of Argentina would live in order to play for the various professional teams. These boys leave their homes and are placed by their new team in this hotel for a year, or maybe more if they are lucky!
I was invited to eat at 2 long tables that could hold 20 boys when needed. The ladies of the house spoke no english and neither did any of the players. Our meal was "pollo et papas" chicken and potatoes, which seems to be the only other choice to "baca and papas" which is beef.
The joke here, I think, is 2 choices:
1) beef and potatoes or 2) potatoes and beef
I talked with the ladies about Canada and their hotel which they don't own. I asked for a photo of them and they seemed very surprised. They wondered why i would care about them. I told them, I hope correctly, that they were the "Madres de Argentino futbol" They smiled and kissed my cheek. My new friend from River Plate arrived at the door and told me "nosotros vamos" "We go"
As we drove we talked about the hotel and the famous players that came out of that particular hotel, not to mention all of the dozens hotels for futbolistas throughout Buenos Aires and probably all of South America.
Along one of the highways we went past a huge sign advertising Gatoraide. It had Lionel Mesi and it read:
"No exista los amistosas" We played the english-spanish guessing game but came to the conclusion that I did not understand.
We arrived at the training grounds for Boca Juniors youth teams. Today River Plate U15, Gustavo's team, would play against Boca in an exhibition. The game finished 1-1 and was very good to watch.
Directly after was the U16 River vs Boca also. This game was not so even, Boca was playing well and River was struggling. The score got to 4-0 before River scored a late goal to make the final 4-1. As the Boca fans cheered and the Boca players danced and began to sing something snapped. Something was said or done that crossed the line. There was shouting and then pushing and then punches were exchanged. Within seconds all 22 players were involved, the players from the sidelines raced in and so did the coaches. It could have become much worse if not for an amazing tackle, NFL style, by the River trainer on his own team player. After much yelling and 5 letter words the fighting stopped and the teams began to separate as coaches wrestled the fighting players towards the dressing rooms.
Emotions were running wild, adrenaline was pumping through the veins of those involved. The coaches around me talked and seemed frustrated about losing, about the brawl and life in general. I turned to Gustavo and said I understand; "no exista los amistosas" means "there are no friendlies" Even though we call exhibition games "friendlies," down here every game is for life! Gustavo covered his heart and said "Encorazon"
Below the little boy just happened to be near, notice where his hand is. Even at 5 yrs old his heart beats for River Plate!
Por mi amigos, manana! Chau!
