One of the reasons I was looking forward to Bolivia was the assurance that I was going to be in a soccer country again. South American soccer is never to be taken lightly. The records of powerhouses like neighbors Brazil and Argentina speak for themselves. Then add to the fact that virtually every neighbor of Bolivia qualified for this year’s World Cup (Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, and Chile; the only neighbor that didn’t make it was Peru), and you have some impressive soccer on this continent. Furthermore, each World Cup participant survived the group stage, which is nothing to sneeze at. Oddly enough, it was Uruguay, of all teams, that was to achieve the most remarkable result in the World Cup, reaching the semifinals. Bolivia, of course, had to play the roll of spectator, although that can easily change with the World Cup in 2014. Nosotros veremos. We’ll see.
For my first soccer match in Bolivia, I was going to be in for a treat. I had tickets for the Bolivar vs. The Strongest (that’s actually their name) at the Hernando Sillas National Stadium, the derby between La Paz’s most traditional clubs.
There are some wonderful rivalries in soccer throughout the world, like Manchester United vs. FC Liverpool, FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid, Inter Milan vs. Juventus, and Bayern Munich against pretty much anybody in Germany. However, derbies are an entirely different animal, and this is where you will find neighbors and families actively clashing with each other for at least a week. The people in Manchester, Milan, London, Madrid, or Rome will be the first to tell you this. Win a derby and that can very much make your season, regardless of where you end up in the league standings.
Of course, you can’t just have a rivalry within a city without pointing out what the obvious differences are between the clubs other than their jersey colors. Liverpool, conceivably, was a Protestant vs. Catholic affair. Internazionale Milan was founded to allow foreign players into their club instead of merely the locals who dominated like they did at AC a century ago. Here in La Paz, it is said that it was a class thing, that the wealthier fans preferred The Strongest (aka the ‘tigres’, the tigers, owing to their yellow and black stripes), whereas Bolivar was more working class. Either way, I join supporters of The Strongest and now consider myself a ‘tigre’ as well.
The game itself is one for the ages. Delayed by fifteen minutes thanks to pouring rain that would also keep thousands of fans at home, we take our seats and watch the third teams of The Strongest and Bolivar duke it out. The first oddity I notice is the fact that something seems terribly wrong on the field. Some players are missing, and when I take a headcount, it shows The Strongest to be shorthanded by two players. Whoa, I’m thinking, red cards. Derby Time, right? The first teams would later prove this point exactly.
The Strongest has obviously fallen on hard times, placing in the middle tier of the standings while Bolivar are the leaders. But again, this is a derby, where anything can and will happen.
The Strongest go up a goal after Bolivar misses some good opportunities, and then starts to control the match. When a penalty is not given to The Strongest shortly before halftime, all hell breaks loose. A yellow card here, another, another, and another. I quietly nod. So that’s how the third team ended up short-handed. To make matters worse, Bolivar scores a soft goal before the whistle, sending the Bolivar fans into a frenzy. The tigre fans are less diplomatic, pelting the field with lighters, shoes, and whatever else they can get their hands on, so that the refs need police protection on their way into the lockers.
Bolivar adds another goal a few minutes after half, and The Strongest fans start dropping their heads. There will be another yellow card, and yet another. Remember, though, this is a derby. Bolivar misses a couple of opportunities to seal the deal, and The Strongest comes back with two beautiful goals of their own to take the lead. Not surprisingly, Bolivar then loses it – first their heads, then the match. Two red cards, three more yellows, and that is all she wrote. In fact, I can recall a substitute taking the field for all of two minutes before being sent off again with a red card. Final, 3-2, The Strongest. What a match!
Could this have happened elsewhere? Of course, derbies are derbies. That said, I don’t think ten yellows and two reds would have happened in, say, England or Germany. I don’t wish to stereotype here, but here it just seems natural to players to gang up on the refs or upend opposing players with their spikes in the air when things aren’t going their way.
The Strongest supporters couldn’t care less. Their team showed tremendous character in coming back from a goal down to beat their supposedly superior cross-town rivals. Though I still see them ranking seventh of fourteen teams here in Bolivia, there is little doubt that this match made their season, and that fans will still be talking about this one for years. I will, too. For now, I too, consider myself a tigre.
For my first soccer match in Bolivia, I was going to be in for a treat. I had tickets for the Bolivar vs. The Strongest (that’s actually their name) at the Hernando Sillas National Stadium, the derby between La Paz’s most traditional clubs.
There are some wonderful rivalries in soccer throughout the world, like Manchester United vs. FC Liverpool, FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid, Inter Milan vs. Juventus, and Bayern Munich against pretty much anybody in Germany. However, derbies are an entirely different animal, and this is where you will find neighbors and families actively clashing with each other for at least a week. The people in Manchester, Milan, London, Madrid, or Rome will be the first to tell you this. Win a derby and that can very much make your season, regardless of where you end up in the league standings.
Of course, you can’t just have a rivalry within a city without pointing out what the obvious differences are between the clubs other than their jersey colors. Liverpool, conceivably, was a Protestant vs. Catholic affair. Internazionale Milan was founded to allow foreign players into their club instead of merely the locals who dominated like they did at AC a century ago. Here in La Paz, it is said that it was a class thing, that the wealthier fans preferred The Strongest (aka the ‘tigres’, the tigers, owing to their yellow and black stripes), whereas Bolivar was more working class. Either way, I join supporters of The Strongest and now consider myself a ‘tigre’ as well.
The game itself is one for the ages. Delayed by fifteen minutes thanks to pouring rain that would also keep thousands of fans at home, we take our seats and watch the third teams of The Strongest and Bolivar duke it out. The first oddity I notice is the fact that something seems terribly wrong on the field. Some players are missing, and when I take a headcount, it shows The Strongest to be shorthanded by two players. Whoa, I’m thinking, red cards. Derby Time, right? The first teams would later prove this point exactly.
The Strongest has obviously fallen on hard times, placing in the middle tier of the standings while Bolivar are the leaders. But again, this is a derby, where anything can and will happen.
The Strongest go up a goal after Bolivar misses some good opportunities, and then starts to control the match. When a penalty is not given to The Strongest shortly before halftime, all hell breaks loose. A yellow card here, another, another, and another. I quietly nod. So that’s how the third team ended up short-handed. To make matters worse, Bolivar scores a soft goal before the whistle, sending the Bolivar fans into a frenzy. The tigre fans are less diplomatic, pelting the field with lighters, shoes, and whatever else they can get their hands on, so that the refs need police protection on their way into the lockers.
Bolivar adds another goal a few minutes after half, and The Strongest fans start dropping their heads. There will be another yellow card, and yet another. Remember, though, this is a derby. Bolivar misses a couple of opportunities to seal the deal, and The Strongest comes back with two beautiful goals of their own to take the lead. Not surprisingly, Bolivar then loses it – first their heads, then the match. Two red cards, three more yellows, and that is all she wrote. In fact, I can recall a substitute taking the field for all of two minutes before being sent off again with a red card. Final, 3-2, The Strongest. What a match!
Could this have happened elsewhere? Of course, derbies are derbies. That said, I don’t think ten yellows and two reds would have happened in, say, England or Germany. I don’t wish to stereotype here, but here it just seems natural to players to gang up on the refs or upend opposing players with their spikes in the air when things aren’t going their way.
The Strongest supporters couldn’t care less. Their team showed tremendous character in coming back from a goal down to beat their supposedly superior cross-town rivals. Though I still see them ranking seventh of fourteen teams here in Bolivia, there is little doubt that this match made their season, and that fans will still be talking about this one for years. I will, too. For now, I too, consider myself a tigre.
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