The day I watched a game in the Framengo fans
In honor of the red-black pentachampionship, I remember the first and (hopefully) only time I watched a menguinho game in the middle of the BIGGEST FANS OF “MUNDU”.
upload – For those who are arriving in space now, I’m Tricolor de Coração, son and grandson of rubros-negros – the other grandfather was America, but that doesn’t count. That grandfather was even a runner for Flamengo. But thanks to my father relapse, my uncle made up my mind and I became a distinguished supporter of Fluminense Football Club – close upload.
October 2007. A Mexican woman toured the city. Christ, Pão de Açúcar, beach… She wanted to go to Maracanã, but that week the only game was Flamengo vs Corinthians, for the Brazilian Nationals. Under the command of Papa Joel Santana, the menguinho was coming from an incredible sprint, from the rear towards the G-4. It’s good to remember that the team had games late and had the advantage by knowing what results they needed. Timãozinho, on the other hand, was desperately fighting relegation, which took place in the last round to the joy of the nation.
We went with the guys from the Mexican’s hostel in a van. Hostels and travel agencies act as “official money changers”. They always have tickets for games that sell out, as was the case for that game. Tickets are usually purchased outside, with people from inside the Maracanã. In addition, they illegally practice tying (ticket + transport). And they sell half-price tickets as if they were full tickets. Take it or leave it.
I knew what I was getting into and tried unsuccessfully to stop by my camera. For the safety of the tourist, we arrived 2 hours before the ball rolled. Two flannels almost slapped each other when the van arrived. The stadium was still empty and street vendors were trying to sell fake shirts. The Mexican wanted Flamengo’s. Prohibited He had already explained to her the meaning of that club. I couldn’t allow her to take such a bad memory from our country. The street vendor was pissed off, which made me even more proud of my good deed.
The favelada arrived and the screams intensified. I was only able to follow the “ão-ão-ão second division” pros Curintiano. He sang softly “You are, sucker and asshole team! Bitch, fag and thief! Goodbye Mengoooo”. I was in a really difficult situation. Despite two damn teams, I had no other option but to cheer against Flamengo. This photo expresses my feeling a little.
I realized that my expression of affection had aroused suspicion and comments from close and unfriendly people. I stopped before being unmasked, also because the camera’s battery had run out. The game started and Curintia scored. I had to contain myself. The little menguinho tied. Despair! The turn came with a blow from Roger Chinelinho. People started to hug and before the mob could touch me I grabbed the Mexican with all my strength. In the end, I regretted an incredible goal lost by curintia. End of the game. More emotions were to come.
In front of the bathroom, an ecstatic friend passed in front of me and unbelievably didn’t notice my presence. To this day he regrets not having seen me. He says if he noticed me he would have pointed at me and yelled “It’s tricolor!!!”. Maybe I wasn’t here to tell you this. What a friend… One of the gringas (a European, I think) had lost her sandals and was stepping barefoot in a huge puddle near the bathroom. A playboy yelled “Ih, ih, ih, you’re stepping on the pee”. Heart touching.
He was safe and sound in the van. A gringo asked where the Halloween party would be. It was Halloween. Everything to do with that game. The guide criticized the MV-Brasil poster, “Halloween is the stick, Brazil is a Christian country”. The radio played Jorge Vercilo.