On Saturday night, we decided to go to a soccer game in Barcelona. FC Barcelona was playing against Sevilla, which was supposed to be a good match up. We bought jerseys and sweatshirts early in the day to wear to the game that night. There weren't any tickets available online, and the tickets at the tourist booths seemed expensive. A random guy at our hostel in Nice had just come from Barcelona, and told me about how he had bought tickets from a scalper the week before. Our Lonely Planet guide book made it sound pretty simple ( I don't think Rick Steves recommended purchasing things from scalpers.) All we had to do was find a club member (i.e. season ticket holder) and negotiate a price--don't pay until they take you in to your seats.
On our way to the stadium, we met these crazy drunk Czech guys in the metro. In other words, they made us be their friends for the train ride. One guy made us write a postcard to his grandmother.
We finally got to the game. At the entrance to the stadium, we made it known to one guy that we were looking for tickets. Within 30 seconds, we were swarmed by shady-looking scalpers trying to sell us tickets. Suddenly, an old man appeared to our left. "You buy from me," he said. We continued stand in circle of scalpers, looking lost and confused. "You buy from me," he said again. "Trienta y cinco euros." We weren't quite sure if this old man was actually a nice old man, or just pretending to be one. However, 35 euros to the nice-looking old man was less of a risk than 65 euros to the guys I wouldn't want to meet on a deserted street.
We made the right choice, and let our new friend, Miguel, lead us into the game. Miguel's extra tickets belonged to his two sons, who were a couple years older than us. One of his sons lived in London. The other was married with a couple kids, one of which had been adopted from Mozambique. Once we got to our seats, Miguel handed us FC Barcelona hats and scarves that looked about 25 years old, and made us put them on.
The game was great! FC Barcelona is supposed to be the best team in the world right now, but I was actually more impressed with Sevilla's defense, which held them to a tie. Like many soccer games, it didn't get that interesting until the last 3 minutes. Messi (hailed as one of the best players in the world) was taking a penalty kick in the 90th minute, and the score was 0-0. One of the Sevilla players strolled over in front of him and gently kicked the ball away from him. This resulted in a fistfight and a red card for the Sevilla player. The girl sitting in front of us, who had smoked at least 5 cigarettes during the game, unleashed a very long string of Catalan (spanish is the second language here) profanities. It was hilarious. I think Sevilla is going to be my second favorite team. Messi missed the penalty kick.
All thanks to our new friend Miguel, we had a great time at the game. He even led us back to our metro stop afterwards. This was much appreciated, since we were in a crowd of about 85,000. During the game, the crowd was surprisingly tame. Everyone was seated, and nobody was drinking (except those Czech guys). There was plenty of chanting and singing, but overall, the crowd was pretty normal -- not what I expected from my first European soccer experience.
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