A European Vibe in Texas?

I thought I knew everything there was to know about my home town of El Paso, Texas, having lived in this border city all my life.  I have visited every neighborhood, eaten in restaurants elegant and inelegant around town, and shopped everywhere from malls to mom and pop stores.

But it wasn't until recently that a serendipitous happening  made me feel transported to the European Continent, where the game of football (soccer to Americans) reigns supreme. Here is how it happened.

My husband Wayne and I are always on the lookout for the best restaurant to order a plate of nachos for a mid-afternoon snack. And we are nacho connoisseurs, turning up our noses at what we derisively call "baseball nachos," a pile of bought tortilla chips, smothered with liquid cheese and topped with fiery jalapeño slices.  Ándale, a local Mexican food restaurant that strives for authenticity, was our best bet to get a plate of real nachos.

The hostess asked if we wanted to be seated in the bar to watch the game.  What game?  we wondered.  But the bar seemed lively, so feeling a bit adventurous, we perched ourselves at a table with high stools and looked around at our surroundings.  I don't spend much time in bars these days, so the low lighting, TV screens, and bar patrons gave me something new to look at.

The young waitress didn't blink an eye when we ordered iced tea and a shared plate of nachos.  I asked about the game that was being played.  Mexico versus Venezuela in the Copa América she explained,  I asked her if she is a soccer fan.  Not really.  She prefers American football, except when Cristiano Ronaldo (the handsome Portuguese footballer) is playing.

As we settled in, enjoying food and drink and joining fans watching the soccer game, an unexpected feeling came over me.

It was a European vibe, where soccer championships, star players, and victories and defeats are part of the everyday culture. For an hour or so, it really did matter to me whether Mexico, our close neighbor, was scoring. I watched every play, cheered every attempt on goal, and chastised the officials if they made calls against Mexico.

This was a serious bar.  Everyone was focused on the the TV screens.

Some alone...

  

 And some with friends.

(Chicharito is the name of a famous Mexican footballer)

The spell was broken when we decided to leave at halftime.  We walked out into the bright El Paso sunshine. I was no long in a hotel bar in Portugal, or a cafe in Spain, or watching TV in a friend's house in London. I was back in the USA, where I wouldn't pay any attention to soccer scores until the next FIFA World Cup in 2018.   But, I must admit,  the nachos were really delicious.

World Cup Fever Hits the Southwest!

The excitement and emotion of the recent FIFA World Cup made my husband Wayne and me hungry to hear the cry of  GOL....... in person.  The Chivas of Guadalajara, Mexico were meeting the Cruzeiros of Belo Horizonte, Brazil in a friendly match at the El Paso Sun Bowl Stadium last Sunday.  We wanted to experience soccer as a fan in the stands rather than just in front of the TV.

Neither of us had the proper fan attire to support either team, so we chose to wear colors that at least wouldn't get us in trouble.  There are many dire tales floating around about the passion of soccer fans!

The striped attire of Chivas supporters

I had been told many years ago in Mexico City that females were not welcome at soccer matches. Thank goodness times have changed.  There were fans of all genders, ages and ethnicities.

Crowd entering stadium

Temporary grass had been laid on top of the artificial turf in the Sun Bowl.   It was taking quite a few helpers to keep it watered until game time.

Serious grass watering!

Wayne was not impressed with my suggestion that he could help me water our outside plants every day by carrying the hose like that for me.

The teams lined up on the field for the start of the game, Chivas in red stripes and Cruzeiros in blue.

Chivas and Cruzeiros

Contrary to our fears (or at least mine), the crowd was very pleasant.  Even a few quick rain showers during the evening didn't dampen enthusiasm for the match.  Maybe the large quantities of kettle corn, hot dogs, nachos, and beer being consumed had a hand in that.

Crowd enjoying game

The only evidence of typical fan behavior happened every time the Cruzeiros goal keeper kicked the ball back down the field.  The Chivas fans stood up, fluttered their hands, and as he kicked the ball, yelled a word in Spanish that I, as an ex-Spanish teacher, wouldn't allow in my high school classroom.   The word must not be considered too shocking nowadays because FIFA ruled it as non-discriminatory.  So we stood up, fluttered out hands, and yelled it too.  When in Rome...

p...

The match itself, being a friendly game, was fairly calm.  The fans provided much entertainment though.

Chivas fan

There has been talk of building a soccer stadium in El Paso.  What fun that would be for area fans of fútbol! 

Fútbol – Out of the Mouths of Babes

Summertime in El Paso brings leisure to watch those long soccer (fútbol) games on TV.  As we watched the finals of the Confederations Cup between Brazil and Spain this past week (Brazil won quite handily), I was reminded of a memorable FIFA World Cup game that we had watched several years ago.  The experience turned me into a soccer fan, for sure.

                               

Mexico

 

The most authentic Mexican restaurant in our neighborhood, Barrigas, had placed a handwritten sign on the door, “Open at 7:00 a.m. for World Cup Game – Mexico vs. Portugal.”  It was a chance for Mexico to cinch a spot in the second round of play. 

Portugal

Although most Americans display a lukewarm attitude towards soccer, here on the US-Mexico border, fans take the game very seriously.  My husband Wayne and I decided to join the early morning crowd at Barrigas to cheer Mexico on to victory.

 

We arrived promptly at 6:59 a.m., beating several of the waiters to work, and succeeded in capturing the best seats in the house.  The television channel from Ciudad Juárez, México was tuned in and projected onto an eight foot wide screen.  Soccer fans are notorious around the world for their aggressive behaviors, such as cursing, throwing beer bottles, and landing an occasional punch on a fellow fan.  This crowd was more subdued, however, as families filed in, most wearing sports jerseys and caps in various combinations of the colors of the Mexican flag – red, white and green.  There was a buzz of excitement in the air.  Two grammar-school aged children, a boy and a girl, squeezed into seats at the table behind us.  I hoped I wasn’t blocking their view of the screen, but I really didn’t want to give up my spot that I had set a 5:30 a.m. alarm to secure!

 

The match began with Mexico almost scoring a goal.  A roar went up from the crowd.  But Portugal soon put one in to make the score 1-0.  When an unfortunate Mexican player touched the ball with his hand (a real no-no), the referee gave Portugal a penalty kick. Penalty kicks can be deadly, because the only defender is the goalkeeper.  The score became Portugal 2, Mexico 0.  A glum silence fell over the crowd.  I noticed, however, that the two children behind me were keeping up a running commentary on the game in Spanish, giving advice freely to players, coaches, and referee alike.  And they showed no mercy.

 

“Center it, center it,” they yelled at the Mexican player trying desperately to get the ball anywhere near the goal.  “Not so high,” they advised him when he kicked it over the goal.  If there was a possible foul on the field, the kids helped the referee out by pointing out exactly what the Portuguese player had done to the Mexican player.  “Look, look, he kicked him.”  But if a player from Portugal went down, wincing in pain, they made clucking sounds in disbelief.  “The yellow, the yellow,” they advised the referee for the slightest Portuguese infraction, hoping he would give a player a yellow card, a serious event in soccer.  If a Mexican player missed a good chance at a goal, the children showed little sympathy.  “Take him out!” they advised the coach.  “Give it to Kiki,” they urged.  Kiki was the nickname of Francisco Fonseca, a key Mexican footballer.

 

At this point, after numerous cups of coffee, I had to excuse myself from the table.  Maybe the extra coaching by the children had an effect, because Mexico scored a goal in my absence. The score was now Portugal 2, Mexico 1.  Could Mexico catch up?  The children’s comments became more optimistic.  “That a way.  Now we’re going.” Up the field, down the field ran the players, with the clock ticking off the minutes and seconds until the end of the game.  It wasn’t over until it was over.  Or was it?

I heard a small voice behind me say, “If Mexico loses, I’m going with Brazil.”  Ah the fickleness of youth!  We called for our check and left the restaurant.  Wasn’t Brazil scheduled for a game tomorrow?