"The Good Geezer"

From the other side of the stadium I saw as they jumped up and down bobbing their heads, gridding their teeth, and whipping their blue shirts in the air to make sure they were the biggest and most impressive scenery. This all happened yesterday when I went to the match Millonarios-Junior right here in El Campin stadium. It’s important to highlight that this wasn’t any ordinary match, it was legendary because it was the first time in twenty three years that Millonarios had made It to the final and people were ecstatic. I was most intrigued to see “las barras bravas” as they are well known here, and all I could do was relate them directly to Amongthe Thugs and their leader Roy Downes.  Roy Downes was the leader, he was the one that everybody paid the ticket for and ironically he wasn’t the guy that “looked like he was going to spit”. On the contrary he was smarter than the rest of the hooligans, and his status among the rest of the “lads” was can be explained by the simple fact that he didn’t even have to wear red; his face and attitude said it all.  I was later told that Millonarios has a similar character that plays the lead role in “Comando Azul”, one of the mayor and most recognized groups in Millos, and he wasn’t exactly the famous pop star. He was known as Moneda. Obviously he didn’t drive around the block in a car waving his hand like a politician because let’s face it he got more enemies than we can count.

While I was seeing obsessive fans throw their shirts off into the rest of the crowd, and hearing them sing every anthem as if their life depended on it, Buford on the other hand was noticing how the teeth of a true Hooligan looked like. His eyes were locked onto particular ugly mouths and his form of narration was the most picture perfect description of deep brown and mushy green teeth. His comparison to pea soups, to caked brown cakes, and vegetable soft with decay made it very easy for you to immediately relate it to someone’s mouth you have already seen. We’ve all been their where we have to stare right in the face of someone who has “ the raw rim of gum showing where there must have been teeth”(60), or the ones that “appeared to grow up at odd, unconventional angles…”(60). But his extravagant narration shifts into exposition when Buford is now on track to discovering the passing of good tickets between members of the group. This small paragraph not only analyzes a very interesting and abusive process, but it reminds us all that we have done it more than once in our daily routines. Whether it is to bar hop around the city, to cut in line at the snack shack, or to simply obtain immediate gratification of some kind to get what we want NOW. They all start off with the sickness. The fake vomiting, the sickness to the stomach, and all kinds of creative methods are used to slowly pass the good ticket around the crowd. When it gets too tough, they simply act like they don’t understand English and cleverly yet extremely carefully, they will hide the ticket in a sandwich, a cigarette, and even a shoe. You might ask yourself why the police don’t stop the nonsense. Why isn’t there a higher power of authority that ships them back to England and makes them pay for their illegal acts? Buford figured it out pretty quickly and it all has to do with the principles of human nature.

1.      No public functionary wants a difficult confrontation- there is little he can do once the shouting starts and they all just want the job to get over with.

2.      Everyone is powerless against a large crowd that shares the same purpose: they will not obey any rules.

Buford couldn’t get any more truthful than this. It’s true! In order for the audience to understand the gravity of the situation and the position of the workers, he shifts into a more noticeable register between informal and familiar. As I pointed out yesterday in class he starts to sound a lot like The Burn Journals in the way that his diction and tone are equally driven to a closer relationship towards the reader. For example: “You’re there, working by yourself at the ticket booth of an underground railroad station, and two hundred supporters walk by you without paying”(63). His register makes it easier for me to relate to that situation and basically accept the fact that if I were in the store as manager, I would probably just step aside and pray they take everything but me.

The City of Juventus

Buford finally made it to the home of the “Fucking Eyeties”, to the city of “Juventus”,  as a fellow friend of his from the ballistic crowd referred to.  He seems a little more comfortable mixing with the rest of the Hooligans, but once again his  caustic tone gives him away when he is forced to describe  “the murals on the flesh”(48). His corrosive comments about the satanic themed tattoos are already a sign that this guy is borderline freaked out! Still, in the mist of the forked tongues and abundance of flames tracing through their shoulders, Buford can still squeeze in a little humor here and there. An obsessively tattooed person could not be better described than a walking billboard because clearly “you could only conclude that this was what he had decided his function in life would be; it was his career” (49). But wait it gets better! Not only is he making himself extremely sarcastic while describing a situation that could turn into a blood bath (and it will), but he is using satire to make fun of those who are willing to tattoo the name of the mid field player across their forehead: “in the hope, perhaps, that Robson would neither be traded to another football club nor ever die” (49). He even uses a little bit of facetious humor when he describes Tony Roberts skin as the same as Michael Jackson’s…    JA          JA             JA.  Yes people if you got the joke it was supposed to make you laugh.

Once in Italy, Buford for the first time questions himself about the true meaning of his trip. He finally realized that his whole journey was a little crazy, probably making it a turn point if it weren’t for the story about the Star journalist. His whole purpose is finally clearer than ever and it’s no surprise that he wants to see the action, he wants to experience the sole thing the Hooligans are known for and banned for throughout the world: violence.