THE DAY THE LEPERS, THE BURNERS THE CROWS, THE MILLIONAIRES THE FISHERMEN, THE SCOUNDRELS THE MATADORS, THE PIRATES THE RAT STABBERS, THE GUT HANDLERS WENT TO WAR
Argentina loves the passion and the league calendar rage of a local derby so much, dedicates a whole to them. And Boca-river isn’t weekend of the season even the most fearsome on show
Despite all of the titles and glory that have come during his time with Barcelona, there is one game, one derby, that Lionel Messi still dreams of playing in before he calls it a day. It’s a derby he has played in his mind hundreds of times as a kid on the streets of Rosario, with and against his cousins and friends. Because Newell’s Old Boys vs Rosario Central isn’t any normal derby. One look at the stands will tell you that. As the two teams get ready to rumble in their latest meeting, local radio stations start their live broadcasts at 8am, a mere seven hours before kick-off. It isn’t long afterwards that Newell’s supporters start to congregate in the Parque de la Independencia, a large public park in which their Estadio Marcelo Bielsa ground is located, dreaming of a victory that would allow their team to turn up the heat on league leaders Boca Juniors, four points ahead of them in the table. But as kick-off approaches, the title race becomes secondary. As today’s all about the city of Rosario, the legends of the past, and the profound hate that can be created only by two city rivals.
“Let me tell you a story about the sin aliento [breathless]”, begins 29-year-old Newell’s fan German between swigs of prittiau (a cheap wine mixed with lemon soda), as he stands waiting next to one of the gates. “We’ll never need to use speakers to support our team. They did! They can’t sing out loud – they needed f**king speakers. That’s why we call them sin aliento: no support, no breath. That’s why you will see the banners with crossed-out speakers. We shout until we’ve no voice left!”
German is wearing a T-shirt that reads “30 years” and also bears a ‘no turning’ traffic sign. “It’s 30 years that they can’t do the lap of honour,” he explains, referring to Rosario’s last title win in 1986-87, adding, “Not even when they were in the second tier.” Just then, a group of fans joins him, grabbing their testicles in front of the camera, shouting, “We’re going to f**k you all at the Coloso!”
But there will be no Central fans around: as with every game in Argentina, the away supporters are banned from attending. And even the name Rosario Central is forbidden around here: match tickets bear the legend “NEWELL’S” – written in full caps – and then simply “v rc” in a significantly smaller size. It’s just a folkloric dig at their bitter rivals.
One hour before kick-off, the stadium is already packed with 40,000 fans singing their hearts out. Outside the ground, ultras are readying the pyrotechnics that they will try to sneak through two strict police checkpoints. Inside, the big names start showing up. Well, sort of. Newell’s have a reputation like no other club for producing tifos, which pay tribute to the likes of local boy Lionel Messi, fellow all-time great Diego Maradona (who played a handful of games here in 1993), former manager Marcelo Bielsa or 1970s deity Mario Zanabria. These huge portraits are accompanied by a banner that carries a message to Central’s ultras: “You will never have them.” This has a double meaning: you’ll never have a Maradona or a Messi playing for your side, and you will never have these tifos, meaning the Newell’s fans will fight for their lives to defend the banners from being stolen, which is something that occasionally happens in this part of the world.
Indeed, in Argentina, the local rivalries are taken more seriously than perhaps anywhere else on the planet. As kick-off time approaches, the streets of Rosario are deserted, the shops are closed and the parks are empty. It’s eerily reminiscent of an establishing shot from a big-budget post-apocalyptic thriller, and it just so happens that similar scenes are unfolding in most major cities across the country.
Some 110 miles north from here, Santa Fe vibrates in anticipation of another showdown between Colon and Union. Down in Buenos Aires, La Bombonera is bouncing as fans await the start of the Superclasico between Boca Juniors and River Plate. Meanwhile, Independiente and Racing prepare to do battle in nearby Avellaneda.
Elsewhere across Argentina, the city of Cordoba is still gripped by Talleres vs Belgrano, while there are all kind of post-match reactions coming from San Lorenzo’s 1-0 win at Huracan, Banfield’s 1-0 victory over Lanus, and the La Plata derby between Estudiantes and Gimnasia, which the hosts won – yes, you’ve guessed it – 1-0.
The glut of grudge games is no coincidence. This most extraordinary weekend of local rivalry is entirely by design, with the match calendar specifically tailored to maximise the excitement, the tension and the narrative. They call it La Fecha de los Clasicos – ‘The Round of Derbies’ – and have done so since 2015.
And it’s as crazy as it sounds.
TICKETS FOR DEAD RUBBERS SELL OUT AS QUICKLY AS THE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE FINAL
More than 10,000 police officers will be patrolling the streets and the stadiums over the course of an action-packed weekend that features 10 traditional derbies and five more specially-created clasicos for those clubs whose historical enemies are, sadly, not in the top flight. So, as Velez Sarsfield’s old foes Ferro Carril Oeste play in Primera B, they face Tigre instead, while Olimpo, as the only top-flight club in Bahia Blanca, are paired with Mar del Plata’s Aldosivi, some 300 miles up the coast.
In recent years, the Argentine FA has dominated headlines for mostly the wrong reasons: several incidents of government interference, the crazy expansion of the Primera Division to 30 teams, the inability to accurately count 75 votes in the 2015 presidential election (the result being an iffy-looking 38-38), and the naming of five officials by the FBI as key figures in the ‘Fifagate’ corruption scandal.
In the wake of all that draining, ugly business, La Fecha de los Clasicos is the one thing that can lift the gloom around club football in Argentina. It symbolises everything Argentine fans love, and it’s simply too exciting for anyone to be cynical about. Tickets are as sought after as those for the Champions League final, with record attendances even for what are essentially only dead rubbers.
The idea was devised in order to correct a few unfortunate quirks borne out of the tournament’s expansion. Principally, the classic home-and-away format would have required a gruelling 58 rounds – so the FA created a one-legged tournament, with an exception made for all of the derbies, which would still be contested home and away to avoid any bitter squabbling. The competition format has been tweaked three times in as many years, but the extra derby round has remained unscathed. It may create a slightly unlevel playing field, as some clubs must battle for points with tougher opponents than others (for context, this setup would equate to Spurs facing an extra tie against Arsenal while Chelsea play Crystal Palace or West Ham), but the added excitement – and revenue – is accepted as making it worthwhile.
Yet, the history books show that this wasn’t just some crazy stunt to attract bigger television audiences, at least not the first time around.
In 1934, to celebrate the creation of the Argentine FA following the merger of two pre-existing bodies, the first Fecha de los Clasicos took place. In November that year, Boca vs River, Independiente vs Racing, Estudiantes vs Gimnasia and Huracan vs San Lorenzo, among others, all took place simultaneously. There then followed an 81-year period where two or more derbies taking place on one weekend was merely a coincidence, before the weekend of madness was reinstated in 2015.
The international coverage of La Fecha de los Clasicos soon grabbed the attention of foreign leagues – and TV companies. It wouldn’t be at all surprising if those lobbying for the Premier League’s ‘39th Game’ have been monitoring the Primera’s latest gimmick in the hope of strengthening their case. Others, too, are watching on with interest.
“Unfortunately, in Italy we do not have enough derbies to cover an entire round, but given all the rivalries in Argentina, you can consider the derby round an homage to the past,” said former Milan and Italy manager Arrigo Sacchi – always a forward-thinker – to the Argentine newspaper Clarin, when asked if Serie A could or should adopt a similar system. “In Argentina there’s creativity. Splitting the tournament in two, as has happened since the 1990s, gave more opportunities to smaller sides and meant a dozen clubs were able to win the title.”
THIS MADCAP WEEKEND MAY LOOK LIKE GREAT ENTERTAINMENT, BUT TO PLAYERS AND MANAGERS IT MEANS MORE PRESSURE
Though this madcap weekend may look to outsiders like nothing more than great entertainment, to players and managers it means pressure.
“It’s not your form that’s important, but how you can detach from your situation in the table and focus entirely on these lifelong opponents,” said Newell’s boss Lucas Bernardi last year before facing Rosario. After a poor display and 2-0 defeat, he decided to scribble a resignation letter and clear his desk before things got ugly. Gimnasia’s Pedro Troglio wasn’t given a chance to go out on his own terms: he was sacked on the spot after losing to rivals Estudiantes. The pressure around derby matches is so intense that managers and players are terrified of defeat. Tellingly, despite all the pre-match excitement, six games in 2016’s La Fecha de los Clasicos ended 0-0. Things can get rather cagey.
For pressure, there’s no clasico more intense than Newell’s Old Boys vs Rosario Central. Events that unfold on the pitch are remembered for decades, amplified and turned into legend. Central’s German Rivarola had a gnocchi dish named after him after a Copa Sudamericana goal on August 29, 2005 (Argentine restaurants traditionally serve gnocchi on the 29th of the month). Ex-newell’s boss Ricardo Caruso Lombardi has managed 21 Argentine clubs but would turn down Central. “I would never be forgiven for that,” he tells FFT. “It’d be like cheating on your wife. Once you’ve sat on Newell’s’ bench, Central is a forbidden place.”
FANS BEHIND THE GOALKEEPER USE FLAGPOLES AND STICKS AS MAKESHIFT SPEARS
While Boca-river is a rivalry that spreads right across the country and is known across the world, when it comes to intensity or sheer hatred, few in Argentina would argue that the Rosario clasico is the country’s biggest. This is an extremely volatile yet city-exclusive rivalry that has produced thousands of unbelievable tales through the decades. Rosario has got no room for neutrals or supporters of any other club: everyone is either a Leproso or a Canalla; a Leper or a Scoundrel; Newell’s or Central.
It therefore stands to reason that, if the Rosario derby is seen as the most heated match-up in Argentina, it is also the most dangerous. This is, after all, the deadliest city in Argentina, where a murder takes place approximately once every 40 hours.
This is mainly down to the presence of drug-dealing gangs, who also happen to have links to football. Los Monos, one of the most feared groups, have got several murals highlighting their passion for Newell’s, while one of their leaders was under federal investigation for reputedly owning 30 per cent of Rosario-born Atletico Madrid frontman Angel Correa.
Threats and intimidation are not uncommon. Two years ago, there were reports of gunfire heard outside the home of the grandmother of Newell’s star Maxi Rodriguez in the build-up to the derby. Rosario Chief of Police Miguel Oliva told the press that three shots had been fired and he suspected the incident was related to the coming clash.
On the other side of the divide, Rosario Central icon Aldo Pedro Poy – whose derby-winning goal in 1971 is still recreated and celebrated on December 19 every year – has also been the victim of violence on the premises of his own business. Poy runs a children’s play centre... Unsurprisingly, many city bars don’t even open on matchdays in order to avoid heated arguments that can lead to violence.
So, if just one derby fixture can turn a city into something resembling a war zone for a few hours, why choose to scatter another nine of them throughout the country across the same weekend?
It’s partly due to the 2013 legislation that banned away supporters from all senior matches. Without massed ranks of travelling fans, the risk of ambushes and street battles diminishes and police don’t have to escort motorcades of barras (ultras) and herd them into the away end.
With violence between opposition supporters now relatively rare, the biggest issue facing police and clubs is local gang factions in the stands aiming to control the lucrative barra business – including car parking, food stalls and even ‘adrenaline tours’ for wealthy tourists who want to experience a derby alongside the ultras. (That being said, this year police are still trying to determine who released 40 chickens near the entrance for Talleres fans as a message from the Belgrano ultras who couldn’t be present at the game, which ended 1-1.)
However, the lack of a recognised away end has also led to the odd witch hunt, sometimes with deeply tragic consequences. During April’s Cordoba derby, Belgrano fan Emanuel Balbo spotted a man he believed to be responsible for the death of his younger brother in a car accident in 2012. The man reacted by punching Balbo and then loudly accusing him of being a supporter of fierce rivals Talleres who had infiltrated the stands, quickly attracting the attention of other members of the crowd. Balbo was pushed to his death while he tried to escape, tumbling from the upper tier, over a barrier and down onto the concrete floor below. The 22-year-old died in hospital just two days later. This derby weekend wouldn’t pass without negative headlines, either. In Rosario, half an hour has been played and Central are leading 2-0, threatening to score again with every attack. Newell’s drums won’t stop resounding, nor the supporting chants (“This afternoon, no matter what, we must win!”), but club icons Maxi Rodriguez and Ignacio Scocco – back where his career began, following six months with Sunderland – cannot stop Marco Ruben and Colombian Teo Gutierrez stealing the show. A foul from the Vinnie Jones handbook reduces the visitors to 10 men before Blackburn alumnus Mauro Formica gets a goal back in the 89th minute, and briefly the stadium trembles. But German Herrera soon escapes on the counter-attack to seal victory for Central. And then come the shoes...
The first pair is hurled at the visiting players as they pile on each other in celebration of their third goal. At the opposite end of the ground, the Central keeper Diego Rodriguez understandably wears a concerned expression as the furious Newell’s supporters in the stands behind him use flagpoles and sticks as makeshift spears. Paolo Montero, the former Juventus hardman and now Rosario Central’s manager, is forced to seek sanctuary in the away team’s dugout as a barrage of plastic bottles rains down on him. The assistant referee is not so lucky: he’s struck by an object thrown by the crowd and promptly hits the deck. With two minutes to play, referee Federico Beligoy decides to call it a day, prompting even more scenes of ecstatic celebration from the visiting players and more scenes of impotent rage from the home fans.
Moments after the final whistle is blown, and in the quiet neighbourhood of Luduena to the north of the city, a Rosario Central supporter is shot dead with a rifle by a family member, who is a fan of Newell’s. “Sadly, football has become more and more violent,” public prosecutor Adrian Spelta will later state. “Years ago, we would wait for the next derby to get sporting vindication, but these days it’s different. They were neighbours, screaming at each other during the match, and the mockery ended in this: the death of a 44-year-old man and the wounding of his daughter.”
Back at the Estadio Marcelo Bielsa, as the police fire rubber bullets at supporters who are only getting more furious, Rosario Central’s players continue their World-cuppish celebration – fittingly enough, right in the centre of the pitch. They don’t look quite so delighted, however, when they realise that the inflatable tunnel which usually provides protection to the players as they head back to the dressing room has since been deflated, leaving them with no other option but to sprint 50 yards while dodging the various projectiles that are being aimed in their direction, including, but not limited to, globs of spit. It later becomes clear just why the locals are so angry with the police. “We have footage of one officer celebrating Central’s third goal, and we will take action,” Rosario police official Diego Maio concedes in the wake of the match. “The tunnel was partially stolen by Newell’s fans and therefore could not be inflated again. Had the police not acted [in protecting the Rosario Central players], this could have been a disaster.”
And as Maio speaks, his equivalent in Buenos Aires is no doubt taking a very deep breath, as the players of Boca Juniors and River Plate walk onto the pitch at a packed Bombonera.
Here we go again…
“ONCE YOU’VE SAT On THE NEWELL’S BENCH, CENTRAL IS A FORBIDDEN PLACE. IT WOULD BE LIKE CHEATING On YOUR WIFE”