Match made in Heaven

“One, two, three, viva Algerie!” chanted the enthused green and white Algerian supporters. “One, two, three, viva Algerie! One, two, three, viva Algerie!” Two of the fans threw their arms around me as they started to jump up and down, “One, two, three, viva Algerie!” Large Algerian flags, half green, half white, with a red sickle and star placed centre, were tied round necks – doubling up as patriotic capes – and flapped in the afternoon light. Even I started to chant, “One, two, three, viva Algerie!” Their enthusiasm was palpable.

We were on Burnett Street in Hatfield, Pretoria, walking from the drop-off point of the very well organised Park and Ride to Loftus in Pretoria. Laughing, delighted with the Algerian energy, I broke away from the enthused supporters and rejoined my family as we ambled down the packed walkway.

'Algerian fans were everywhere.'

Supporters chatted vibrantly with one another, excited about the upcoming game. Americans were present too – we met an Asian Elvis impersonator with huge sideburns and ninja moves on our way to the stadium. Huge bows, hats – even eyelashes were decorated with the fan’s team-of-choice flag and flag colours. Red, white and blue for Americans, green and white for Algerians. However my mom, brothers and myself were all in bright Bafana yellow. Everyone was dressed in any soccer gear they had, regardless of relevance to the game they were watching: SA flags flew high, others were dressed in Brazilian gear and I even saw Spanish red in the crowd.

Soccer is not my forte

I don’t really understand what’s going on. However, I have developed a very successful system that allows me to both watch the game and participate enthusiastically. Firstly, pick a team to support (my rule of thumb is Africa first, then whichever team has the hottest players). Secondly, start shouting and yelling whenever stuff starts to happen around the goal area (for either team). Thirdly, scream vague encouraging phrases like “Come on boys!” and “Concentrate!” every now and again. Voila! A soccer supporter is born.

Football is characterized by its noises: the yelling at the players, the loud squawking of the vuvuzela (this year anyway), the singing of the national anthems (Algeria’s sounded uncannily like a circus song), Shakira and Freshlyground’s Waka Waka on replay (waka waka, eh eh), and the other languages spoken by the visiting tourists. This game had its own distinctive noise however, aside from the regular soccer sounds; the vuvuzela choir.

The Vuvuzela Choir

The block of seats next to us rallied into the aforementioned call-and-response vuvuzela choir – not really tooting a tune but rather a pattern of hoots and calls that joined us as supporters. The Mexican wave half-heartedly moved through the crowd, as well as group cheers. Soccer – like all sports I suppose – lets people unite. Sometimes it can be fun to sweat the small stuff; and if the underdog wins a game, well, it lets everyone feel good – even if the USA remains a super power and Algeria a small third world country.

For me the live match was more about the vibe than the soccer – which was a good thing. Without the commentators and the replays and the r e a l l y  s l o w  m o t I o n moments and that offside thing demonstrated by the on-screen graphic (though to be honest, that didn’t help me much anyway) I had less idea what was going on than normal. I just knew to yell when the green guys had the ball.  It wasn’t really anything at all like soccer on TV. The field was so close, the players so potentially (though impossibly) touchable, the fans so enthusiastic and live; comparing a live game to one watched on a flat screen is like comparing a cake to a picture of a cake.

'And the live gees is contagious.'

“One, two, three, viva Algerie!” became something even I chanted as the Algerian fans (though a wee bit dodgy, and, as I found out, very fond of blondes) put their whole hearts into the skill a set of strangers had with a small round object. Soccer isn’t, actually, all about the game.