Maracanã, Rio de Janeiro

Wednesday. 21:30. Maracanã. It wouldn't be a night like any other. Oh, no. Wednesday night means football, at least for Brazilians, much because of the TV, which broadcasts a soap opera an hour before. The adrenaline of time slowly passing during the day, the nervousness, the drama. It is all part of watching an exciting football match, to paraphrase Skank, a local band.

Just like 55,000 other people, Vini and Belgium were waiting for Enzo outside the stadium, wearing the jersey of the local team. Only with a small "but". Unlike Vini, Belgium was only there for her boyfriend and not for the sport, which she didn't care much for.

- Where is that idiot Enzo? - asked an impatient Vini.

- He must be stuck in traffic. - Belgium tried to defend him.

- Traffic? What traffic? There is no traffic in the subway! I knew that stupid dumbass was going to do something stupid. And there is no excuse, because the route we took is the same one he's supposed to take. And we are here and that idiot isnt!

Vini was right, just for a change. Because in big games, the stadium quickly sell out, it's almost impossible to get three seats side by side.

- Hey, I have an idea. - Vini said. - Why don't we just go in and leave him behind?

- Can we do that? Will Enzo understand?

Who cares, thought Vini. But what he really answered was:

- Yes, he'll meet us later on.

And so they made their way to the stadium ticket counter. Two men and a woman did a quick body check to make sure they were not terrorists. Ten seconds after a shoddy search for explosives, weapons, knives and other materials that could kill or injure people, they were allowed to pass through.

A few kilometers away, Enzo was in trouble. To begin with, he was not honest with Vini, because he said he was in the subway, on his way to the stadium. But in fact he spent the day at Italy's home in Barra da Tijuca, a very distant place from where he said he was. In clearer terms, it would take ages to catch the bus and then the subway due to the schedule. In other words, once again, Enzo's antics cause some kind of trouble. And on the bus to the subway, the situation went from bad to worse.

- Why is the driver so slow? - Enzo complained, checking the speedometer. - He looks like he's never driven a bus in his life! Step on the gas!

In some twisted way, Enzo managed to create a riot among the passengers, who agreed with Enzo's complaints. Some people started banging on the windows, asking the driver to increase the speed. But as it turned out, for pure revenge, the bus started to go even slower, which only made the passengers more annoyed. All of this, thanks to Enzo.

At the stadium, Vini and Belgium tried to choose the best seats. Meanwhile, some players went to the field, which made Belgium a bit curious.

- They need to warm up before the game to avoid injuries. - Vini explained. - As well as testing the cleats and checking the quality of the pitch.

- Aren't all football fields the same?

- They should be. But some have fake grass, others have holes like a Swiss cheese, it is not an exact science.

Some time later, the referees entered the field to check the goals and the condition of the grass, only to be greeted by lots and lots of booing, which also surprised Belgium.

- Why are you booing the referee?

- Because he is a fucking cocksucker. - Vini replied. - Even more that damn referee. Fuckin' blind dude.

- But he didn't do anything wrong today.

- But he probably will. So we have to anticipate anger against that guy.

A while later, Belgium sat in the twelfth row from top to bottom, but Vini had other plans.

- We need to be more in the center of the pitch.

- Why?

- Trust me, you don't want to be behind the goal.

Vini didn't even have to explain. During the teams' warm-up, one of the opposing players kicked the ball, but missed badly, and it went over the net and hit exactly the seats where Vini didn't want to be. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, and an action is worth much more than a picture and even more than... A hundred thousand words, perhaps?

- I told you so. - said Vini.

- All right, all right! Let's do it your way.

One of the characters in the environment of a football match. The street vendors. Just like in the theater, you can also buy food to eat during the game. And they walk by the seat rows shouting, like those guys in the supermarket. Right?

- Would you like a beer? - Vini asked. - Do you have a 10?

- Are you kidding? A beer is 10 bucks here? Besides, since when do you drink?

- It's not for drinking! I mean, it is, but at the same time it's not.

- Explain yourself, sweetie.

- We drink to have fun, but also to throw the drink in the air when we score a goal.

- What a stupid thing to do! Spending 10 bucks to throw it away?

Belgium didn't understand. After all, she was named after a country famous for its brands of alcoholic beverages. Go figure.

After much heartache with the worst bus driver ever, Enzo finally caught the subway at the final stop. Still far from his destination, luck was still not with him. As soon as the train picked up speed to enter the tunnel, the lights went out and the air conditioning stopped working. All at the same time. Trouble.

- Oh, fuck! They are kidding me!

Seconds later, a voice announcement sounded from the cabin to the other wagons:

- I'm sorry, unfortunately we had a problem with the power. Soon the situation will be back to normal. We hope for everyone's mercy.

- Go fuck yourselves! - Enzo shouted. - Six bucks for this shit!

Still, it could be worse.

At the stadium, exactly 9:44 PM, the teams entered the pitch, side by side, almost marching. Some players applauded, while others, practically the majority, made a quick prayer. The crowd was very noisy. It was almost impossible to communicate with the person next to you due to the acoustics.

- And no sign of that idiot Enzo. - Belgium whined.

Kick-off and the nervousness escalated. And it didn't take long for the first controversial call. Five minutes into the game and the fans started complaining about a player falling in the penalty area. Shouts of "Hey" and "Oh" were easily heard, as well as booing the referee.

- Motherfucker, ref! - Vini yelled.

At the seventeenth minute of the first half, Belgium got annoyed with a guy who had been standing all the time.

- Hey, man, I can't watch! Sit down!

- If you want to watch sitting down, go to the west! - The fan replied, referring to the most expensive sector.

- What a bastard!

Still, it could be worse. And then it was. Because the same fan started to take a drag. And the smoke was all over her, sadly.

- Oh, no. Vini!

- What?

- This guy is smoking pot and standing up!

- Get up on the chair. - Vini made a simple suggestion.

- And you may?

- I won't stop you.

Belgium then followed his advice. She climbed in her chair and watched the match normally. Obviously, it would be different if she were at home on the sofa, but the feeling of doing something odd was quite funny to her. But then came the shot. Somebody threw a plastic bag that hit Belgium from behind. The problem was not being hit. No, no, no. The problem was the stuff in the plastic bag.

- Vini, Vini, Vini! Please tell me that what was in that bag was beer.

- No, it's not beer.

- It is what I think it is?

Vini didn't want to say, but it seemed pretty obvious.

End of the first half. Vini calmly got up from his chair and was ready to leave, which intrigued his girlfriend again.

- Is it finished? - Belgium didn't understand. - Isn't it two halves?

- I'm going to get some snacks. Do you want anything?

- But what about that ambulant?

- Oh, no, no, no. At halftime everyone goes to the snack bar. It's almost a tradition.

- And what are you going to buy?

- I don't know. Maybe I won't buy anything and just stand in the line. Probably some people there will do the same.

Well, it could be worse.

After a series of misfortunes, Enzo could finally smile. But unfortunately the joy was short-lived, as soon another problem emerged. Torrential rain. A street completely flooded by water. Car alarms ringing non-stop. The possibility of lightning. In short, chaos on Earth.

- Oh, shit. - He complained, paying attention to his permeable shoes and his newly bought shirt.

Second half, 0-0. The team didn't play well in the first half, but that's okay, because statistics show that goals and action usually occur in the last forty-five minutes. And it didn't take long. With only 45 seconds on the clock, a cross in the box. A header. Goal. Explosion of joy in the stands. Vini ran back to his seat when he heard the shouts and slipped on the concrete. Belgium, on the other hand, was showered with beer.

- Who scored the goal, who scored the goal? - Vini came running over.

- Baby, you're bleeding! - Belgium was in a mix of disgust and tension. - And I took a beer bath!

- Oh, come on! What's the difference between this and Rock in Rio?

Vini didn't even notice the blood dripping down his shirt.

- Uh-oh. I'm bleeding.

Vini fainted on the fans in the row just below. Belgium panicked and asked them to somehow stop the game.

- Stop the game! Stop the game!

And, incredibly, the game was stopped. The referee blew the whistle after receiving information on his radio that a fan had collapsed in the stands. He then asked for the ambulance to go and attend whoever was in trouble. While the fans in the same row of seats tried to calm Belgium down, the ambulance crossed the entire field to get Vini, still unconscious.

- What happened? - Enzo didn't understand what the fuss was about.

- A guy fainted. - One of the fans replied.

- Those fans that disturb the fucking game!

Thirty-six minutes into the second half. Enzo could only watch the final minutes plus extra time. And he was rewarded, because the referee awarded a penalty to Enzo's team, which was taken perfectly by the striker. 2-0. And, obviously, with the match coming to an end, there was no lack of insults for the away fans who came from far away to see their team lose.

- Go fuck yourselves! - Enzo showed his two middle fingers to the opposing fans.

End of the game. 2-0. A more or less comfortable victory. Slowly, the fans left the stadium, which was getting emptier and emptier. Enzo waited a few minutes to get out of his seat, because the lines were getting longer. So he had the thought of calling Vini, to find out where he had been the whole game.

- Enzo, you jackass! - said Belgium, rather angrily.

- Belgium? Why have you got Vini's cell phone?

- We are in the hospital. Your idiot friend slipped and fell!

Enzo started laughing.

- No kidding? He is such a moron!

- Where are you?

- At the stadium, damn it! Where else would I be?

- No kidding that you still managed to watch the game! We waited for you outside for almost half an hour!

- Long story, Belgium.

Not that long. Enzo is a big dumb kid.

- I smell like beer and someone threw a bag of pee on me.

Enzo started to laugh.

- What can I say? It happens. So what? The next game is at home. Do you wanna join us?

Belgium hung up the phone. She didn't even need the answer to let Enzo know that her experience at the stadium was pretty crappy. Hey, we all have good and bad experiences at the football stadium. But looking at the positive, the team won and everybody goes home happy... And filthy.