When the fist teams finally appear they do so through an inflated tunnel, which stretches out into the centre of the pitch to prevent the players, especially those of River, being pelted with whatever the fans can get their hands on. A few bottles make their way over the tall perimeter fencing but all of them miss their targets.
As ticker tape pours down from the sky, children appear on the pitch carrying two giant flags bearing the words no mas violencia: un mensaje de Dios (‘no more violence: a message from God’). ‘It won’t be enough,’ says Pablo, as the ‘boos’ reverberate around the ground, drowning out the sound of ‘We are the World’ and ‘Imagine’, which are playing over the stadium’s public address system.
An appalling, goalless first half is lifted only by the appearance of Maradona, a former Boca star, of course, who emerges on the balcony of his box to the delight of Boca’s fans and the derision of River’s. At half time he even puts on a juggling show using a ball thrown up to him by one of the cheerleaders.
In the second half the referee, who was the best performer on the pitch in the first half, loses control of the game under intense pressure from the home crowd. He’d agreed to meet me for an interview over breakfast tomorrow morning, depending on how the game went. Needless to say, we never get the phone call. Boca, who are the better side anyway, win 3–0 after River have two men sent off. After each goal, the Boca fans, Maradona included, take off their shirts and lasso them round their heads. They’ll be going home happy and will be able to hold their heads high. At least until the two teams meet again.
In the back of Pablo’s car another River fan – also called Pablo – and a friend of Los Barrochos (though not one himself) is inconsolable. ‘I am always without hope when I come to see River play Boca, because I always feel like we’re gonna get fucked,’ he says, unable to comprehend River’s recent poor record against Boca. ‘I don’t understand it. Against teams who play good football we play beautifully and win. Then we go and lose to Boca and their shitty, ugly football.’
Still, at least nobody was killed. And with only seventy-nine arrests at the stadium, today’s Buenos Aires derby was one of the quietest.
Buenos Aires – A tale of two teams
Boca Juniors
Boca were founded in La Boca district of Buenos Aires in 1905 by Irishman Paddy McCarthy, newly arrived Italian immigrants, Pedro and Juan Feranga, and three students from the National School of Commerce – hence the name ‘Juniors’. They chose to play in the colours on the flag of the next ship to sail into port. It was a Swedish vessel – hence the yellow and blue.
Their most successful periods were the early 1930s and the late 1970s and early 1980s, when, inspired by Diego Maradona, they reached the South America Club Championship final three years in a row. Controversially, though, no Boca players were included in Argentina’s 1978 World Cup-winning squad, because of their rugged style under then manager Juan Carlos Lorenzo.
Boca have a history of bigger, more robust players, such as Gabriel Batistuta and Argentina’s 1966 World Cup captain Antonio Rattin. Even Boca’s skilful players, such as ex-stars Diego Maradona and Juan Sebastian Veron and Barcelona-bound Juan Roman Riquelme are powerfully built.
River Plate
Also founded in 1905, River were formed in La Boca when two local English teams, Santa Rosa and Rosales, joined forces after playing against each other in a friendly. Both teams played in white, which caused confusion until River had the bright idea of sewing red patches on to their shirts to distinguish themselves – hence River’s colours.
The 1940s saw River and their famous forward line La Maquina (‘The Machine’) dominate the domestic game and this success continued into the 1950s with Alfredo Di Stefano to the fore. More great players followed, including Daniel Passarella and Mario Kempes.
In contrast to Boca, River have a reputation for producing stylish teams and players who fit within that framework. Current stars Ariel Ortega and Barcelona-bound starlet Javier Saviola as well as Valencia’s Pablo Aimar are classic River players.
The Ultimate Showdown Iran v Iraq, October 2001
More than a million people died when the two nations fought in the 1980s. Today, the only battle that counts lasts for just ninety minutes…
Tehran’s thoroughfares buzz with anticipation, the streets seeming to move as one in a westwards direction towards the Azadi national stadium. Here Iran will today take on their bitter rivals Iraq in a win-at-all-costs World Cup qualifier.
The pace is glacially slow, but there is a harmony that is rare in Iran these days. The atmosphere is charged, but the fans smile and salute each other. Flags are draped over every tree and lamp-post, and Iranians lose themselves in a nationalistic fervour which is usually denied them.
‘This is what it used to be like, when the Shah was in charge,’ a 73-year-old university lecturer turned shoe-shiner tells me. ‘Then we were told it was all right to be proud of being Iranian. Now we are told that our nationality doesn’t matter, that Islam is all that matters. But whoever says that should go and look at all the historical sites that litter Iran. We are an ancient land and our spirit is strong. We will prevail over anyone who tries to dampen our national spirit.’
Inside the stadium, their team emerges to the thunderous acclaim of 110,000 Iranians packed like pilchards in a tin. There are no Iraqi fans here, only the few officials who have travelled with the team. The Iraqi national anthem is played out to a stony silence but there are no jeers. When the Iranian anthem begins, though, the mood changes; the crowd boos, and the players, who mouth the words, look embarrassed. ‘They hate anything that reminds them of the State,’ a photographer from one of Iran’s leading daily newspapers tells me. ‘This isn’t their national anthem, this is the State’s…’
In 1979, a year after reaching their first World Cup finals in Argentina, Iran underwent a dramatic change. The Shah, an absolute monarch who favoured Western values, was overthrown. By nature protective of their culture, Iranians had felt increasingly threatened by the Shah’s policies. In his place, the Mullahs (Muslim clerics), led by Ayatollah Khomeini, came to power. The Islamic Revolution of that year transformed Iran from one of the most cosmopolitan and diverse cultures in the Middle East into the most introspective.
Ironically, those same Iranians who wanted to preserve their national identity now found their country dominated by Islam, a religion that does not recognise borders. Far from being encouraged to be proud Iranians, they found themselves pushed, first and foremost, to be dutiful, obedient Muslims.
Worse still, a year later, in 1980, Iran and Iraq went to war. The first Gulf War, actually a dispute over territorial control of the shipping lanes of the Shatt-al-Arab waterways, lasted for eight years. In Iran, it was given the spin variously of Jihad (or Holy War) and ‘The Imposed War’ and proved a useful propaganda tool for Khomeini. According to the Islamic Republic of Iran, Iraq was the pawn of Western influence, armed by the USA and France. Those who died fighting them were exalted as martyrs. It became one of the bloodiest conflicts on record. In the second year of the war, Iraq made moves towards a peace settlement, but Khomeini rejected them, saying that Iran would ‘fight until the last drop of blood’. An estimated 1.2 million people died on both sides, yet thirteen years after the final drop of blood was spilled the government still celebrates the beginning of the fighting, with ‘Holy Defence Week’.
The young (under-30s) who form 70 per cent of the population don’t remember much about the war. They care little either, brushing it aside and trying to keep themselves entertained. In Iran today, entertainment is mostly of the home variety. Although banned, many homes have satellites. The Internet, which is not banned but