El mes de la patria

September is the most important month of the year for Costa Ricans. It is El mes de la Patria, Patriotism month, and the 16th is their independence day.  All month long they celebrate their national pride with parades, neighborhood parties, and fireworks. Everywhere you look there Costa Rican flags hanging.  It is much like the month of July in the United States.

September was also a big milestone for me.  It marked the 2/3 point of my time here in CR (only 4 more months), as well as my one year mark in Latin America (8 months in CR and 4 in Chile).  

One year is a long time to have spent in Latin America and to have never been to any type of soccer game; national team, club team, amateur, AYSO, foosball-- nothing.  So I decided I was well overdue to experience one.  Luckily, on the 5th of September the Costa Rican sele was scheduled to play against Mexico.  I decided this would be the perfect opportunity for me to pop my futbol cherry.    

For weeks prior to kick off, costa rica was caught up in news surrounding the game.  The thousands of fake tickets circulating, the recent success of the both teams against the likes of the US and other powers in the region, and their hopes to make the World Cup.  

A few hours before kick off my friend Dan and I got ourselves ready with a little “Girl Talk” dance party and some liquid spirit in our hotel room (we’re huge dorks).  Then we jumped into a taxi and headed to the game.  On the way over, our taxi driver explained to us how important the game was.  He said that if Costa Rica looses, and the United States wins, then Costa Rica would be in fourth place in region and would most likely have to play a repechage match against the fifth place team in the extremely strong South American region in order qualify for the World Cup.    

  

As soon as we arrived at Estadio Ricardo Saprisa we walked up to the first street vendor we saw and bought two tri color jerseys.  Now looking like true Costa Rican fans we made our way up towards the entrance, and missed getting run over by Oscar Arias’ (President of Costa Rica) motorcade by mere inches.  

After a seres of security check pat-downs and “can I smell what’s in your water bottles”-- we finally got our first look inside the 23,000 person stadium. The stadium was built vertically, and the stands seem to hang right over the field, I couldn’t believe how close the lower seats were to the action, no more than fifteen feet from the end lines. The upper sections were filled with Mexico green and the rest of the stadium was a covered in a blanket of red.  We found some seats in the top corner of the stadium behind one of the goals.  Probably the worst seats in the place, but the way the stadium was built it didn’t make for bad viewing at all.  

The atmosphere in the stadium prior to kick off was electric. The crowd took part in a seres of Costa Rican fight songs and chants, and it didn’t take Dan or I long to pick up the words.  In between songs the crowed scream obscenities at small group of Mexican fans just below us.  We decided that we only heard about a 20 different words the entire time we were there, most of them cuss words and a few others having to do with some kid of a gripe going around in Mexico right now.    

During the first half of the game the Ticos, who were caught up in the patriotic sprit of the month and the importance of the game, were itching for any little thing to cheer about.  However, La sele had a hard time getting anything going and gave up a goal one minute before half time.  Once the second half started it was obvious that some of the air had been taken out of the stadium.  Mexico got two beautiful counter attack goals after failed corner kick attempts by Costa Rica, and that was it.  The cowed started making their way towards the exits.  I felt pretty bad for the Tico fans, they defiantly felt like their team let them down.  La sele didn’t even give them one legitimate thing to cheer for.  A breakaway, a close shot, a juke, anything would have sufficed, but it never came. Mexico dominated.    

I was very impressed with the Mexican fans.  I know it was probably only the most diehard fans that made the trip to CR for the game, but i couldn’t get over how crazy they were.  Most of them were completely decked out in goofy mexican gear and were equipped with all kinds of horns and other noise makers.  They didn’t sit down once the entire game and even controlled the stadium at a few points with their cheers of MEXICO... MEXICO.  After the game ended and everyone had left the stadium, the mexicans stuck around singing songs and applauding their teams performance.  

Dan and I spilled out of the stadium into the street with the rest of the crowd.  It took us half an hour to find a taxi because of the packed sidewalk and near fight we got into with a bum who wouldn’t leave us alone.  

The night was capped off while Dan and I were laying in bed recapping our first professional soccer match and watching TV.  We were just about to fall asleep when our room started to shake.  We looked at each other thinking “is the room spinning because of all the guaro we drank tonight, or was that an earthquake?”   

When I look back at my first soccer match years from now I don’t think Ill remember the goals that were made or anything that happened on the field.  I think what I’ll remember most is the hour or so I spent before the game singing and cheering on La sele with a group of happy Ticos, and feeling the amount of pride they had for their county.  

The next morning, despite the loss and the earthquake, most of the Ticos didn’t seem too sad. They jumped right back into their happy, pura vida way of life pretty quickly.  Maybe it was the month of parties and parades they had to look forward to.