What do you get when six Chileans and one Mexican attend the Chile versus Mexico soccer game? A bloody war! Bring on the foul play, country bashing, and beer – lots and lots of beer.
The game on September 24, 2008 was scheduled to start at 8:00 p.m. sharp, but, like always, it didn’t. And, like always, the heckling began right on time, with an assembly of six Chilean men (if you want to call these viejas that) and yours truly! Un mexicano con el verde, blanco, y rojo running deep. Within seconds, we were like fighting cocks in a ring, and at one low point, I believe I was called a “bastard inbred mestizo.” Now that I think about it, that was pretty bad, but we won’t get into some of the things I said.
I seemed to be more entertained by the tons of fights than the game itself. By this point, my Chilean buddies had seen the turmoil going on around us. There was the hunter and the hunted. I was the “hunter” – safe, calm, secure. I laughed as the Chileans were drenched with beer, piss, and whatever other substance was in those cups.
Then, boom! I was hit hard with two cups of alcohol and soaked, “Hijos de sus…que mala onda man!” My own people, how could they do this to me? I would never hear the end of it from my Chilean buddies!
GOOOAAAL!!! Wait? What? Who scored? When? CHILE?! Noooo. I missed it while I was trying to dry my head off. I had been defeated and let down, caught in the middle of these viejas celebrating their victory. All I could think was, “Hey! At least Mexico is still the birth land of tequila, tamales, and Salma Heyek.”
Chile took home the win (1-0), and I took home the Chilean cutie sitting below us. ¡Que viva Chile!