Are you ready for some fútbol?

I went to a South American soccer game Saturday. This is less exciting than it sounds. Most Chileans follow one of two soccer clubs--Colo Colo or Universidad de Chile. When they play in Santiago every year, it's what most Americans think of when they think of soccer in South America: outrageous crowds, small fires sent in stands, street urchins in Drogba jerseys stabbing opposing fans, cheap and abundant alcohol; in short, a lot of fun.

Chileans, though, love to talk about soccer. In general, the country is a lot better at talking about sports than they are at playing them--much like me in high school. The national side had a better-than-expected showing in this year's World Cup, so people are still talking about it, wearing t-shirts, and  selling tourists jerseys. Also, the country hosted and finished third in the 1962 World Cup, and people down here are quick to brag about that, regardless of how long ago it actually happened. As an Ole Miss fan, I can totally relate.

The local Viña team is Everton, because it was founded, like many South American soccer clubs, by Europeans.  Valparaíso's team is the Santiago Wanderers, because their teams founders evidently like geographic confusion and homages to one of the worst teams in the English Premier League (the Bolton Wanderers, for those of you keeping score at home.) Saturday, Everton de Viña del Mar was playing San Luis Quillota. If world soccer was represented by NCAA football, I would have watched North Texas host Coastal Carolina. In September. The announced crowd was right over 3000, but I have a feeling they included players, stadium employees, and the radio audience in their estimate. Here's a picture of the fun part of the crowd:

Please note the "L" in the top right hand corner. Sketchy. We originally bought tickets for this area, but managed to sit on the front row in the middle of the field. Sometimes, smiling, and having blond hair and an American accent pays off. Here's some of the on-field action:

It looks way too much like a high school soccer game. It was a little tough to watch, too. Both teams made up for a scoreless first half by scoring early in the second half. After the 1-1 tie, neither team could complete a pass or take a wise shot at the goal. I'm not going to claim that I understood everything that the fans were yelling at the players, but sometimes it's nice to know that even with all of our cultural differences, frustration is still a universal language.