DIOS PERDONA, PERO LOS DIABLOS NO. EL INFERNO LES ESPERA.

This past weekend I went to my first Colombian futbol game. 

In my city, Cali, there are two teams. The first team is Cali Deportivo, or Cali Sports Club. They're based in the south, and their colors are green. They're the friendly team. 

The other team is America de Cali. They wear red, and the team mascot is Los Diablos. Their fans are rowdy as all fuck. They were a team backed by the Cali Cartel and I believe their stadium, which is in the north, was built on narco cash.

This weekend was the Clasico, or the match they have every year where the two local teams play each other. They were playing in the America stadium, and so one of the other teachers organized us all going together.

"If you come, you need to come with us. It's safer in a group," they said. "Don't wear a belt or have a pocket knife on a key chain or anything. Weapons aren't allowed in the venue. Oh and for the love of god, wear Red. If you wear green you will get jumped and we won't be able to save you." 

I told my students and my other Colombian coworkers that I was going. They offered me more advice. 

"Wear good running shoes," one suggested. "In case a riot breaks out or whatever."

"It's best to not go," one coworker advised. "But if you go, make sure you buy tickets in the West. The North and the South sections are were the hinchas are. Como se dice hinchas?" they asked their friend.

"Fanaticos?" 

So the day of the game comes and I'm waiting for my uber in my apartment's lobby, shooting the shit with the portero, the doorman. 

"Hola Alexander! Como estas? Voy a America y Deportivo partido."

"En el estadio?! Wooooow" and then he looked me up and down with incredible concern. "Con tus amigos? O solo?" 

"Con MUCHOS amigos," I reassured him. He seemed relieved. 

The plan was to meet at a bar around the corner, where we would pregame and wait for the crowd of amigos to assemble before walking over to the stadium together. We did that, and as we got to the stadium, picked up our tickets, and worked our way through the crowd, we saw people dancing salsa and letting off fireworks in the street. There were riot police standing around, doing nothing about the fireworks. 

We got into the stadium, thinking we were among the first to file in because of the massive crowd pregaming outside, but the stadium was already packed. Every single person in the stands was wearing red and screaming their goddamn minds off, and the game hadn't even started. 

When Deportivo came out, the crowd erupted into infernal booing. Conversely, when Los Diablos came out, there was a deafening cheer. I have perhaps never heard a louder group of people. 

The Devils of America de Cali won, but over the course of the night I saw fires in the stands. Garish red signal flares and fireworks cast horrible shadows in the North section. At half time, they filled the entire stadium with crimson smoke to the point that you could not see anything but apocalyptic silhouettes, and I learned why the riot police were there-- their job was to protect the opposing team from beer cans and gatorade bottles, flung from the upper stands. The cops locked tower shields to protect the visiting team from thrown debris so that they could properly do throw-ins and corner kicks. 

The drums did not stop the entire time I was there. Nor did the chanting. I didn't know what they chanted-- the spanish was beyond me except for one, which I only understood because they unleashed this massive banner that wrapped across the entire Northern section, maybe 3 stories tall. 

DIOS PERDONA, PERO LOS DIABLOS NO. EL INFERNO LES ESPERA.

GOD FORGIVES, BUT THE DEVILS DO NOT. HELL AWAITS YOU. 

We left about 10 minutes early. The score was 3-0 in favor of Hell, and we didn't want to be around when the drunken throng filled into the streets. 

All in all, the entire ordeal felt more like a metal concert or a professional wrestling match than a sporting event. That is to say, all mainstream USA sports are trash, Colombian futbol is superior in every way. What a fucking blast. I can't wait to return.