Back in February, we climbed Cerro de la Silla and marveled at the striking Estadio BBVA from above. There, on the hiking trail, I had an interesting thought: “How cool would it be to see this mountain from the stadium seats during the world’s biggest sporting event?” Later that evening, after we got down from the mountain, we went to cheer for Tigres UANL at the historic Estadio Universitario (“El Volcán”) and witnessed first-hand the passion of the local soccer fans. The game atmosphere was fun and boisterous. Chanting, singing, and cheering -- supporters didn’t stop for a moment. What an electric soccer environment the city had! The idea of trying to make it to Monterrey for the FIFA World Cup started to take shape into something more than just a vague plan or fantasy.
The process of getting tickets was painful (see my last post), but, in the end, we were able to secure two tickets to the Republic of Korea vs. South Africa match. Reasonable airfare (thank you, VIVA!) and a $40-a-night apartment in the Mitras neighborhood, and suddenly we had a World Cup getaway.
In February, the local news coverage was all about how the city was not ready to host the tournament and how Mexico was going to embarrass itself. Fortunately, none of the fears materialized. Monterrey was a terrific host, and every fan with whom we chatted had a blast. We spent five days in the city, hanging out at the fan fest in Fundidora Park and watching games in the air-conditioned bars of Barrio Antiguo. We loved the passion and enthusiasm of the organizers, volunteers, and supporters. And the game day experience was something we won’t forget anytime soon.
This is how it all happened.
The game was at 7 pm. Mindful of potential delays due to security screenings and public transport disruptions, we headed to the stadium early. We arrived at the train station by the stadium around 3:30 p.m., but once we moved towards the stadium entrance, we soon came to a full stop. From where we stood, we couldn’t even see the stadium gates. The lines were huge, and that’s 3.5 hours before the game. Thousands of people were arriving and joining the queues. The lines behind us quickly grew back to the train station.
Unlike the Miami and Atlanta stadiums, where we also attended World Cup games this summer, the immediate area near the Monterrey Stadium was much livelier with vendors selling street food and traditional Mexican music loudly blasting. The atmosphere was one grand fiesta.
Finally, at 4 pm, the gates opened and the lines shuffled towards the entrance. The sea of spectators started to pass through. We scanned our tickets and got inside (yay!). The giant crowd flowed onto the bridge connected to the stadium. We were part of this massive procession, marching to the promised land. With its sleek design, the state-of-the-art stadium in front of us looked like a spaceship.
Near the stadium, there was a zone with food and drink vendors and various entertainment. We took pictures at photo spots, got a free souvenir from Coca-Cola (a Mexican team robe), and watched dance performances by Jalisco folk dancers.
Inside the stadium we took the stairs to the upper deck to check our seats in Section 230, and wow!! There it was -- the iconic view of Cerro de la Silla towering over the stadium. The view was mesmerizing. We were in our seats one hour before the kickoff, watching the warm-ups and gazing at the beautiful green mountain soaring in the background. All those days and weeks spent hunting for the tickets were well worth it. Our row, CC, was high in the upper deck, but it arguably gave a better view of the mountain than the seats located in the lower deck.
The 7 pm kickoff meant we would both get the view of Cerro de la Silla during daylight and enjoy the night atmosphere at the stadium. It felt almost criminal that for some World Cup games, kickoffs took place at 8 pm or later, with people robbed of the pretty view of the mountain.
Interestingly, most spectators were neither Korean nor South African but rather Mexicans wearing green. While Korea and South Africa were about to square off, Mexico played Czechia in Guadalajara that evening, and most spectators (including me) showed up to the game displaying support for the local team. Because of this, it was difficult to spot South African fans as most wore green and blended with Mexican supporters. Korean fans wore distinct bright pink shirts.
After the giant flags of Korea and South Africa were unfurled on the field and the national anthems performed, the ref blew the opening whistle. Surprisingly, Korea’s star forward Son Heung-min was left on the bench. Although Korea had a few dangerous attacks at the start of the game, it soon became apparent it was content with a draw. With Mexico already securing first place in the group, the best Korea could do was to get the second place, and a draw was likely to get them there. South Africa needed a win. It was a win-or-go-home situation for them.
As the game progressed, Korea became increasingly lethargic, believing they could advance without wasting too much energy. Korean (and Mexican) supporters chanted “Korea, Korea,” but the team was asleep at the wheel. Meanwhile, South Africa looked solid. Mbokazi confidently commanded the backline, and almost no Korean attacks came through him. Offensively, South Africa had its moments, including a 100% scoring chance where South African team was robbed by the Korean goalie.
As Korea looked worse by the minute, we appreciated the passion with which South Africa came to play. Another reason why our sympathies slowly started to shift was a very passionate South African fan sitting near us. While the entire stadium was chanting “Korea, Korea,” this little Mexican girl was screaming from the top of her lungs, “Sudáfrica! Sudáfrica!” She chanted the entire game, barely taking any breaks. By halftime, seeing Korea’s pathetic performance and the enthusiastic support by the Mexican girl, we wanted to ditch our Korean flags and chant “Sudáfrica! Sudáfrica!” too.
By the start of the second half, the silhouette of the mountain was swallowed by the darkness of the night. Korea made three substitutions at halftime, with Son finally coming onto the pitch. That didn’t help much. The star player was not in great form and had very little impact. South Africa’s defense shut down Korea, while the front line kept creating chances that materialized in the 63rd minute when Thapelo Maseko scored. South African fans jumped to their feet to celebrate, and we finally could see how many of them were in the stadium.
During the second half, the stadium went crazy not only for the South African goal, but also when live updates from Guadalajara came through announcing goals scored by Mexico against Czechia. Mexico won the game 3:0, and each update and every goal shown on the screen was celebrated with deafening enthusiasm. Chants “Mexico, Mexico” broke out as often as “Korea, Korea” in the game where Mexico didn’t even play.
For the rest of the game, Koreans were trying to tie the game, but all their attacks were unsuccessful. Once the final whistle sounded, Korean players collapsed on the field as if they had all been simultaneously struck by bullets. South African players rushed the field, celebrating their country’s advancement to the knockout stage for the first time in history.
Korean supporters were inconsolable. The pre-game cheerfulness evaporated, and most of them had grim expressions on their faces. One Mexican fan in our section tried to humor a Korean fan by chanting “Coreano, hermano...,” but the Korean fan just shook his head asking him to stop and refused to take a photo. The funny pre-game ritual became not so funny after the team’s bitter defeat.
After most spectators had left the stadium, we headed to the section of South African fans who were still celebrating the win.
South Africans were jubilant, chanting and singing. Without hesitation, I jumped into the crowd. I knew magic words.
“Mbokazi!” I yelled. “I am from Chicago. Chicago Fire!”
They roared in excitement and immediately started chanting:
“TLB! TLB!”
“He is the best defender we have in Chicago!” I was getting as thrilled as South African fans around me.
“We gifted him to you. We gifted him to you.” A South African fan happily yelled into my face, and then we hugged like best friends.
Julia was giggling from a few rows up, seeing how quickly I was adopted by the South African fanbase.
I made an eye contact with her and shouted for her to turn around.
She did, and South African fans howled with joy when they saw CHI FIRE on her back.
“TLB! TLB!”
After celebrating with South African fans and wishing them luck in the knockout stage, we headed to the exit. The best World Cup experience? It surely was!
The celebratory atmosphere continued all the way back to the train station. Food courts and music stages were still running, with people ordering piratas and gringas, drinking beer, and dancing to the sounds of Regio music. The stadium behind us, with its blinking lights, now looked even more like a spaceship that had landed near Cerro de la Silla. On the train back to the city, people celebrated the game that they just witnessed and the Mexican team’s victory in Guadalajara by passionately chanting, “¡Viva México!”.
Monterrey hosted only four games of the World Cup, and, honestly, it should have hosted more.
But we’re so lucky that we made it to one of them.
