Goals

Football is often considered the world’s sport (and no, I’m not talking about American football, which will never have the impact real football has on the world). Kids around the world try to learn how to keep the ball up at a young age, and then mature to nutmegs and bicycle kicks. Those who are not lucky enough to make it big as athletes “settle” (and I mean that in the loosest terms I could possibly mean) for supporting their compatriots as raucously as they can on the national stage. What’s not to support? Their heroes of the pitch also played with makeshift crossbars and whatever they could find to use as a ball when they were 7 or 8 years old. These prodigious goal scorers may have been helping their parents cook and clean well before they could imagine scoring whilst representing their country in the World Cup. And yet, they made it to this stage. On their shoulders they hold a heavy weight: Pressure to earn pride and honor for their country through combat on the field.

The Anticipation is Getting to Me

I can say without a doubt in my mind that I was more excited than I had been in a while (well, a month, since I had went to the Azores). I was going to my first football game! And nonetheless, it was going to be Portugal’s national team facing off against Luxembourg (an extremely rich country smaller than Rhode Island). Even better? I’d get to see Cristiano Ronaldo, in the argument for best football player ever, in action. Ronaldo, one of the most prolific goal scorers ever, came from the same humble beginnings I described in my introduction. His mom was a cook, his dad a gardener; yet he did not let that stop him from becoming a generation defining player for both Portugal and the world. Getting to see him in action would be a privilege I could tell my future grandchildren about. Regardless, I was hyped. After a jam-packed ride on the subway (filled with fanatics bedecked in red and green), I met up with my fellow API students. We passed the fervor of vendors trying to make a pretty penny of commemorative scarves and cheap hats. The smoky and sweet smell of roasting chestnuts wafted through the air. The small contingency of Luxembourg fans, lathered in red, white, and blue face paint, gathered in a small circle, screaming chants until their throats were raw. Fans streamed into the venue, Jose Alvalade stadium prepared to show their devotion to their nation. I was ready to show my appreciation for the experience in general. We got to our seats (adjacent to one of the goals and in the lower box) and waited for the players to emerge from the underbelly of the stadium. And when they did? We all went crazy. “Ronaldo!” could be heard from just about every mouth in the stadium. As they warmed up, everyone starting getting into the festive spirit (although the low quality cheer-leading performance didn’t help this endeavor), preparing for war. But, before the war started, the war chants needed to be chanted. The small murmur of Luxembourg’s national anthem was overwhelmed by the sheer force of the nearly 50 thousand Portuguese faithful in attendance. As the anthem was finished a Capella, the match was ready to start, and my anticipation was relieved. I would actually got to watch professional football players in action!

The First 45

The first half of the game started with fanfare. The crowd was into every attack by the Portuguese forwards (especially Ronaldo), with several close misses early on being saved by the Luxembourg goalie, Anthony Moris. Luxembourg’s defense seemed like a 500 year old stone wall. It had its cracks, but it was still strong enough to stay standing. The crowd was frustrated with the many missed attempts (Moris would finish with 7 saves in the game, so this was a trend). Their frustration quickly evaporated when Moris dived for a ball and collided with Ronaldo away from the net, and the opportunistic Bernardo Silva tapped it in for an easy goal in the 16th minute. The whole crowd screamed in euphoria, already certain that victory was there for the taking. The rest of the half was uneventful. Much of it seemed to be spent with the Portuguese defenders passing the ball aimlessly around midfield, killing clock. The Portuguese faithful were not necessarily happy with this, and were lulled to sleep. There were no yellow cards or injuries to arouse our interest, and the half ended, the score remaining stagnant.

The Final 45

This half was without a doubt much more eventful. The crowd was still not into it, but the humongous student section (all the students wearing cloaks and dress clothes) attempted to drum up interest by starting the wave. That, and the increased tempo by the Portuguese team helped bring the frenzy back to a more normal level. But, everyone was itching a goal. Especially from Ronaldo. Although he is human, it is almost expected that he scores a goal in every match. We would get our wish 20 minutes into the half. After a failed bicycle kick earlier, Ronaldo jumped on a tipped pass by Luxembourg defender Maxime Chanot, and lofted one over Moris, sending the crowd into spastic fits. CRISTIANO! RONALDO! CRISTIANO! RONALDO! The PA man led, the crowd followed, as Ronaldo did his signature celebration on the far side of the field. We had gotten our money’s worth. That was even more true about 10 minutes later, as we were privileged enough to witness Ronaldo’s other specialty: flopping. It was quite the obvious flop, and yet he writhed on the ground in “agony” for 10 seconds, in the progress inhibiting his teammate from scoring what was probably a sure goal. After a stoppage, he casually got up, walked off, and continued to play at the same tempo. I don’t understand how this is allowed in football, when in the NBA, one gets fined thousands of dollars for such an offense. Anyhow, the icing on the cake was an 89th minute goal by substitute Gonçalo Guedes, but that really didn’t matter. Portugal won handily, and everyone (maybe even the Luxembourg fans, who are used to losing in humiliating fashion) went home happy. I definitely did. I don’t know why I haven’t been to a Sounders game yet back home, but I will for sure add it to my Seattle bucket list. This match was so much fun; I can imagine that cheering for your hometown team must be even better.

 

That was my first football experience (well, at least in person). There were multiple times where I felt chills shivering down my spine, whether during the final notes of the Portuguese national anthem, or when the fans were shrilly whistling to voice their displeasure with what they though was a foul. This was definitely one of the coolest experiences of my life. If any of you still reading would like videos from the experience, I can send them to the e-mail that your subscription is under, or comment below with an e-mail to send it to (as long as your e-mail isn’t archaic and can’t receive files larger than 50 gigabytes). I have no clue what I’m writing about next. So, y’all are in for a surprise. Keep safe, and don’t get too cold (for my Washingtonian readers). Until next time,

 

Jeremy Caldeira