During spring break, I had the fortune of attending a European League soccer match between Benefica of Portugal and Tottenham of England. While, to me, the game itself ended in a disappointing 2-2 draw, the outcome wasn't what entertained me most.
The joy started when I stepped onto the metro to go to the match and a sea of red engulfed me. Everyone was showing support for their team, even those not attending the game. The chants started as the metro reached the stadium's stop. I couldn't understand a word of what was being said, but I could feel it. I could feel the energy and passion everyone around me had for the team.
Thousands of us were crammed through a tunnel beneath the main road in order to enter the stadium. The first thing I noticed upon entering the outside terrace of the stadium was the policemen. They lined the railings as far as the eye could see, to the point where I wasn't sure I knew what I had gotten myself into. It didn't seem to faze anyone else as the crowd excitedly surged forward to get ready for game time.
When I got to my seat I took a second to just look around and take it all in. As I was craning my neck to get a panoramic view, I noticed a cluster of black amidst the crowd that looked largely out of place. The cluster turned out to be about 3,000 Tottenham fans that had made the trek from London to Portugal for the game. Upon further inspection, I saw a thin net enclosing the fans in their sections along with several stadium officials standing in the bottom rows. I was told that the net was put up in order to protect the players from objects being thrown onto the field from opposing fans, not a problem we usually have in American stadiums.
I whispered to my sister that the fans must be crazy to travel here for the game, but she quickly shushed me before I might have said it too loudly and attracted unwanted attention from the intense crowd around us.
The game started off relatively slowly, with only one goal in the first 75 minutes. The low scoring didn't suppress the ardor and intensity of the crowd, who were blowing their screeching eagle whistles each time a call didn't go their way and exploding in delight when a call did. This rowdiness didn't quiet the Tottenham legion of supporters as they tried to keep par with the noise, although greatly outnumbered.
In a flash, the game shifted. Tottenham scored twice within the next ten minutes to take the lead. With only five minutes of regulation to play plus stoppage time, there was a peculiar lack of urgency from the players, although the crowd was anxious.
As if scripted, the home team Benefica was given a penalty shot while down 2-1 in the last seconds of stoppage time. The goalie dove one way, the shot went the other. The crowd erupted, players celebrated, and fans began to file out of the stadium happily.
Well -- some of the fans left. A message that played twice over the loudspeaker politely requested that all Tottenham supporters remain in their seats until the rest of the stadium had cleared out, presumably to avoid confrontation between the two sets of supporters. As I walked out of the stadium and back through the tunnel, I could still hear these loyal fans singing their team's song inside.
I can't help but imagine how this kind of atmosphere would rejuvenate American professional sports leagues. It's time to breathe the life back into the stadiums. It creates a better environment for players, fellow supporters, and fans around the country, but until this happens to the fans -- you're sacked!
Jordan Bean is a sophomore majoring in economics. He can be reached at Jordan.Bean@tufts.edu.
