Welcome back to Omnikarma. Today the blog comes from beautiful Salvador where I am enjoying some wonderful Brazilian coffee. Football fans of all nationalities are strolling in for the breakfast buffet after a very late night of extra time football.
I am trying hard to capture the most amazing aspect of last night's game. There are a million options. But the one that takes the cake is the one below.
Just before full time whistle, the crowd (predominantly Brazilian, and for my friends that love stats - official attendance was 51179) started chanting...
MIL GOLS, MIL GOLS, SÓ PELÉ, SÓ PELÉ...MARADONA CHEIRADOR.
I joined in the chorus without knowing the history. Then this really friendly guy standing next to me explained. It stands for the 1000 goals that Pele scored... and since the Brazilians love their Argentinian neighbours (!!), they then rub it in by singing Maradona is smelling (to remind everyone of his love for snorting coke). Remember he almost died because of his drug habit. Looks like someone else who was at the game even put it up on YouTube.
Mil Gols Mil Gols
Now more about last night's game.
Landed at the hotel in Salvador after clinging on to dear life on the cab ride. My 62 year old driver certainly thinks he is Senna's grand dad. Me thinks he is plain nuts. Later, the guy at reception consoles me by saying "the drivers in Rio drive the tourist buses like they are Ayerton Sennas..."
Note to self: Ensure self drive rent a car in Rio...(or for that matter anywhere in Brazil)
Back to the story. 1 PM local time and the Argentina - Belgium game has kicked off. 8 minutes later and my dark horses Belgium are knocked out by that brilliant Higuain goal. A gentle reminder to Arlene Wenger what he misses by not buying this guy for arsenal. I head out of the hotel with about 10 minutes before full time. The wonderful person at the concierge reminds me that the best way to get to the stadium is using the special S2 to the Arena Fonta Nova. I pause here to make a little observation. The S2 is to leave at 1500 hours. Now the big fat Argentinian guy starts waving to his friends outside to hurry up. His two friends run back into the hotel while the driver holds up the bus (much to the amusement of everyone around). 2 minutes later, friends are now dressed in Brazilian jerseys, run across the road and climb into the bus. Cheers all around and we are off. The little note is actually those who love Swiss, singaporean and North European efficiency - this little bit of human kindness and bonhomie goes into the dustbin if we blindly follow efficiency. I guess it pretty much explains why we don't see too many smiles on a Singaporean MRT train - eh !!
The Arena Fonta Neva rises above the small tin and tile roofed houses in the background. A beautiful man made lake welcomes visitors. Clearly we can see more Costa Ricans and Dutch folks as the huge mass of humanity heads towards the entrance. Volunteers and World Cup guides in striking Blue and Green jerseys litter the streets. There is a massive military/police presence on the streets. The organisers have left nothing to chance. There are large numbers of locals peddling Brahma and Coca Cola. Face painters are busy painting Dutch and Costa Rican flags on to faces. I decide to get a Dutch tri colour on my cheeks. Four guys ahead of me (from Bombay) have negotiated a good rate... and I go with the flow.
Just before kick off, one thing strikes me. Van Persie, Robben and Sneijder have moved away from the rest of their team mates - Class divide me thinks !!
I won't say much about the game except that a) the Dutch were far superior, b) Robben is even faster than I have seen him play (on TV) and c) the Krul substitution was thought well ahead of the game and not a tactical masterpiece as reported in some parts of the press (in fact, Van Gail has publicly stated this in the press conference).
There was all the traditional Mexican waves, Brahma beer, popcorn (yes - the official snack inside the stadium). But what really stood out on a beautiful evening was "Mil Gols ..."
I would pay (again) a king's ransom to travel a million miles and watch my first World Cup game at a stadium where there the Brazilians outnumbered everyone else 10-1...the Dutch ran away rightful winners and I made tens of friends that taught me how to sing "Mil Gols. ...."
I am trying hard to capture the most amazing aspect of last night's game. There are a million options. But the one that takes the cake is the one below.
Just before full time whistle, the crowd (predominantly Brazilian, and for my friends that love stats - official attendance was 51179) started chanting...
MIL GOLS, MIL GOLS, SÓ PELÉ, SÓ PELÉ...MARADONA CHEIRADOR.
I joined in the chorus without knowing the history. Then this really friendly guy standing next to me explained. It stands for the 1000 goals that Pele scored... and since the Brazilians love their Argentinian neighbours (!!), they then rub it in by singing Maradona is smelling (to remind everyone of his love for snorting coke). Remember he almost died because of his drug habit. Looks like someone else who was at the game even put it up on YouTube.
Mil Gols Mil Gols
Now more about last night's game.
Landed at the hotel in Salvador after clinging on to dear life on the cab ride. My 62 year old driver certainly thinks he is Senna's grand dad. Me thinks he is plain nuts. Later, the guy at reception consoles me by saying "the drivers in Rio drive the tourist buses like they are Ayerton Sennas..."
Note to self: Ensure self drive rent a car in Rio...(or for that matter anywhere in Brazil)
Back to the story. 1 PM local time and the Argentina - Belgium game has kicked off. 8 minutes later and my dark horses Belgium are knocked out by that brilliant Higuain goal. A gentle reminder to Arlene Wenger what he misses by not buying this guy for arsenal. I head out of the hotel with about 10 minutes before full time. The wonderful person at the concierge reminds me that the best way to get to the stadium is using the special S2 to the Arena Fonta Nova. I pause here to make a little observation. The S2 is to leave at 1500 hours. Now the big fat Argentinian guy starts waving to his friends outside to hurry up. His two friends run back into the hotel while the driver holds up the bus (much to the amusement of everyone around). 2 minutes later, friends are now dressed in Brazilian jerseys, run across the road and climb into the bus. Cheers all around and we are off. The little note is actually those who love Swiss, singaporean and North European efficiency - this little bit of human kindness and bonhomie goes into the dustbin if we blindly follow efficiency. I guess it pretty much explains why we don't see too many smiles on a Singaporean MRT train - eh !!
The Arena Fonta Neva rises above the small tin and tile roofed houses in the background. A beautiful man made lake welcomes visitors. Clearly we can see more Costa Ricans and Dutch folks as the huge mass of humanity heads towards the entrance. Volunteers and World Cup guides in striking Blue and Green jerseys litter the streets. There is a massive military/police presence on the streets. The organisers have left nothing to chance. There are large numbers of locals peddling Brahma and Coca Cola. Face painters are busy painting Dutch and Costa Rican flags on to faces. I decide to get a Dutch tri colour on my cheeks. Four guys ahead of me (from Bombay) have negotiated a good rate... and I go with the flow.
Just before kick off, one thing strikes me. Van Persie, Robben and Sneijder have moved away from the rest of their team mates - Class divide me thinks !!
I won't say much about the game except that a) the Dutch were far superior, b) Robben is even faster than I have seen him play (on TV) and c) the Krul substitution was thought well ahead of the game and not a tactical masterpiece as reported in some parts of the press (in fact, Van Gail has publicly stated this in the press conference).
There was all the traditional Mexican waves, Brahma beer, popcorn (yes - the official snack inside the stadium). But what really stood out on a beautiful evening was "Mil Gols ..."
I would pay (again) a king's ransom to travel a million miles and watch my first World Cup game at a stadium where there the Brazilians outnumbered everyone else 10-1...the Dutch ran away rightful winners and I made tens of friends that taught me how to sing "Mil Gols. ...."
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