I had never been to a soccer game within the United States, until Saturday. It wasn’t particularly boring, but it wasn’t like anything back home. It felt as if Americans approached the game with such elegance and high etiquette as they sat in one area and watched the game from their seats; perhaps Latin Americans couldn’t enjoy a game in a civilized way. The lack of enthusiasm in my section led me to move to a more hyped up area, where I was surrounded by different Latin American nationalities. It felt like home.
Just as football and baseball are typically “American sports”, soccer defines the childhood of the average Latin American. Our culture teaches us how to be proud of our colors, our people, and our skills on the field. It only seemed natural when an elder would sit down the children of the neighborhood and discuss soccer legends that grew up in the same location. With time, soccer represented something different for us all. To some, it meant a pastime, to others, it was the basic foundation of our culture, and to a selected few, it was their future. I was never particularly good at the sport, but it allowed me to develop a connection with my country.
In the DC United Game, I was surrounded by other Latinos who were trying to replace their national team by adopting an American team as their own. The same chants that roared in Honduras’s national stadium rang within the crowd. It didn’t matter if you were wearing an Argentinean jersey, or if you were displaying a Mexican flag. We were all united. But how did Americans display their unity in an American game? Through my perspective, it seemed as if people had an objective stance, but I wonder if that was true? Or was that the norm behavior for a soccer game?
Nevertheless, I don’t want to pinpoint my culture and claim that is a “go-happy” event; its nothing of that sort. In Honduras, the two national teams, Olimipia and Motagua, both have affiliated gangs that have increased the crime rate drastically these past three decades. My home is located three blocks away from the national stadium and its an unwritten rule among families that during games, children cannot be playing outside, errands should be done at a different time, and all doors windows have to be closed.
This past summer, Motagua played against a Canadian team, where both team ended up tying. Olimpia’s gang ended up stationing itself at one end of my block in order to humiliate all the Motagua fans as they departed the stadium. In response, Motagua’s gang arrived at the opposite end of the block. The presence of both teams ended up escalating to a gang fight of about 300 per gang. Once the sound of a shot was heard, all the families rushed to the first floor in order to avoid a bullet going through the roof. There had been reports of family members being killed because of bullets that trespassed the roof (as in, someone shot the bullet into the air, not intending to shoot someone directly, and the bullet returned toward the earth, and made it through the roof). That night, we spent about two hours waiting for the screams and commotion to die off. For women, it is very dangerous to wander in the streets, as there have been cases where gangs kidnap women of the opposite team and hold them hostage for ransom.
Despite soccer’s importance in my culture, it has divided us tremendously. Americans gain my respect in that sense. Of course, there is a very extremist fan in every game that likes to cause chaos, but it is nothing like Latin America. Latin Americans confront a population within their own country that do not endorse sportsmanship. Some families do not allow their children to go to game until a certain age, and when they do, they make sure their child is blessed before they head to the game.
From my experiences, soccer isn’t part of the American culture. I believe their love towards sports is more directed in baseball and football. The laughing, screaming, and chanting at the DC United game was part of the soccer experience, and although one section did not take part, I believe we all enjoyed the game in our own manner. Although this isn’t my soccer team, I was finally about to have a healthy dosage of American nationalism.
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