With the US in second place in our division and Mexico in 4th with only the top 3 teams advancing at the end to South Africa, this was a huge game and Mexico came out in full force.
In America, I am pretty sure ESPN included a 30 second segment in that morning's show and may have televised it because it was a Wednesday at 3:00 but not sure. Had I been in the states, it is possible I wouldn't have known the game took place.
Fortunately though I was in Mexico and there was no way every Mexican I knew was going to let the Gringo forget. Since this was their Super Bowl and everyone hated America for that day (and maybe beyond as I later found out), I decided I would make sure and lay low by acquiring a large American flag, hanging it around my shoulders and going to a local bar called Mamitas with a bunch of friends from around the world to watch the game.
The game itself was pretty interesting, but it was the action in the outdoor bar that really got my attention. The place was incredibly packed, but fortunately I had gotten there early enough to secure a seat right smack dab in the middle.
Things started off fairly calm with some giggles from the Americans about my cape and some joking and not so joking gesticulations from the locals.
All that changed very quickly though when the US scored the first goal of the game. The place was completely silent except for one person clapping, me. Imagine that awkward scene you see in the movies some times where something happens and only one person is clapping, then they gradually realize they are the only person clapping, but as they do so, they don't stop clapping, but only clap slower and slower until they stop. That is pretty much how it went with every head in the place glaring in my direction.
After that, the flag on my back became somewhat of a target for all the pent up anger everyone in this bar was feeling. They take this more serious than anything you can imagine. My homestay mother, one of the sweetest people in the world had already sworn to me at breakfast that day that she wouldn't speak to me for a week if we won. Things got a bit ugly and the neck went on a constant swivel for flying beer bottles (and we aren't talking 12 ouncers, this bar only sells liter bottles making for some heavy duty artillery).
Fortunately, or so I thought, Mexico soon scored the tying goal and everyone was jubilant and forgot about me for about thirty seconds. Then they remembered.
I thought having the lead was bad, but give these people something to talk trash about and they go crazy. With their new found energy the chants started flying in and after getting some translations, I can do nothing but apologize to my poor mother and her cursed name.
After the go ahead goal for Mexico in the second half, I was incredibly relieved and finally felt assured that I probably would survive this ordeal since it would be pretty bad form to kill in a time of celebration.
Nonetheless, that relief vanished when the game ended and every single Mexican in the entire bar began singing songs and chanting in unison. Fortunately, they were able to coordinate and focus every bit of it on me (this picture doesn't quite do it justice, but it was the best I could find, I am standing just to the right of the picture).
The surprising part was that most of the songs were about how much they dislike America. I have talked to some people since hearing these in trying to figure out what the source of the animosity is and from what I gather, it stems from our efforts to halt illegal immigration into the US which they have found highly insulting. I found this thought process a bit on the interesting side, but that's for another discussion.
After about 10 minutes of all the screaming and yelling, the strangest thing happened. It all stopped and all of a sudden, everyone, and I mean everyone in the bar wanted to take a picture with the flag (including this guy who desperately wanted my to kiss his Mexico arm band). The entire time I had been smiling and laughing and giving some thumbs up but I sure didn't see this coming.
People literally lined up and and a group of about 20 cameras started snapping pictures. Everybody was yelling Capitan America I want a picture, or Superman over here. I felt like Santa Claus for a bit, but never having been one to avoid a bit of attention, I consented. It took over half an hour until everyone seemed satisfied and by the end everyone was joking and offering me drinks (this first one is the same group from two pictures ago).
I was standing there a bit dazed by it all, but thought overall and in hindsight it was quite the experience. Not necessarily one I would choose to repeat, but still a lot of fun. Though the US lost, every body in Mexico was jubilant the rest of that day and night and for that it was definitely worth it. Capitan America probably won't be making a Mexican return any time soon, but I will always enjoy looking at these pictures.
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