Dwarf Waving & Police Hatchbacks

Pass to the same colour jersey once in a while

“Horse down! Horse down!”

could be heard on the radio. But we had other things to amuse us. It was an hour before kick off and some idiota dad was educating his son. Today’s lesson was 

“How to wander into the wrong area wearing the most offensive clothes possible in any given situation”.  

After a healthy pelting and language that would make a pimp say

For Jesus sake lads, will ye watch the language

four policia hatchbacks rolled up, lights flashing, and species that give the finger to Darwin’s theory were piled into the back seat for their own protection. A cool looking cop guarded the car with his shotgun. Soon after, another genius limped towards the car, having been set upon for being an eejit. A crowd gathered around him and tried to get the kicks in before the police opened the boot and told him to get in. Which he did, without fuss, in fairness to him.

Division 4 supporters

The sun was being such a bastard that men had to take the peculiar step of using their T-shirts as turbans. They must have put sun cream on their backs but either ran out of or didn’t have any anti-wrinkling face sun lotion to even contemplate such a demented decision. Especially when there was a lad with a fully array on a hatstand for a fiver.*

All thoughts were on the big game. Santa** v Sport in the Pernambuco State Championship. Santa are currently languishing in Serie D, after depth charging from Serie A to having a whole league created for them by the Brasilian FA in consecutive seasons. That said, some illustrious names have plied their trade at the Arruda - Rivaldo and the Creedence Clearwater Couto to name but two. Despite such consistent shiteness, they continue to draw the crowds. Last season their average attendance was the third highest in Brazil. Sport are like Peter Andre, having their Mysterious Girl chart topper (a disputed national title in 1987) and then hanging around trying to get dates with A-list models ever since, occasionally scoring a Jordan but more often than not being a talentless pest. Some would say they are mutually exclusive, but not me.

Getting in to the ground is usually a very scary affair. Your lungs do be so squeezed that nobody smokes until after halftime. This time however, I signed up to an amazing scheme whereby you give R$100 of receipts to a girl near the supermarket and she credits your card with a ticket. You miss out on being acquainted with the sweaty backs of a thousand scary young fellas, which lets you concentrate on living and wondering how many sexy police women will be patrolling the anti-hooligan moat with German Shepards. I am a big fan of this. As the flag says, Ordem e Progresso.

A first touch Mick McCarthy can only dream of

The football itself was insipid. Most of the players could control the ball like it and their boots were made of sticklebricks. But after that things went awry. Whoever had the ball would look up and pass it to the other team. The ref’s whistle came as a relief to the eyes. It made me think of the rousing half time team talk I gave St. Ita’s Special School FC against bitter rivals Dundulk Specials XI; pass it to Jason, everyone is afraid of him and he knows which direction to run. And his mam is even scarier than his dad.***

The only highlight of the first half was waiting for the Santa physio to come on with his magic sponge. Instead of making a beeline to the injured player, he would put the head down and run in an arc, which, Brasilianly, ensured he got there much quicker and at an angle more conducive to effective physiotherapy. When your team is called Holy Cross and your sponge hasn't been dipped in holy water, then you should be accused of dereliction of duty. Needless to say, Lazarus himself would have been proud of the swift recoveries of the Tricolour warriors. The physio did his best later on to undo his sponge work by flopping twice on his own players.

Half time saw the kids come out and display the future of the Brazilian game. In hindsight, perhaps it was a bad idea what with the heat and the girth of the star striker who after bundling his way around the goalie, lacked the energy to tap home. As he lay beached but trying to head the ball in the direction of the open net our attention was drawn to our right as dwarf in a Santa jersey was being held aloft and waved like a flag, much to the delight of the crowd. Happy times.

Recife's EU butter mountain

Santa came out with renewed vigour and scored almost immediately. The ground rocked. It was like walking on the Dublin Holyhead ferry in choppy waters after a few pints, you lift your leg to walk and the floor rises to meet it. Sport tried to respond but couldn’t, despite Santa’s best efforts. Carlinhos Bala, aka Little Charles the Bullet, ran at the defence time after time only to be hacked, chopped and scythed to the ground. Santa were too good and with 10 minutes to go knocked another past Sport’s reserve keeper, courtesy of Cuecinho (Little Underpants to his friends). Their first choice keeper Saulo had hilariously done his cruiciate while celebrating a towering header during the week. By some miracle it finished 2-0. It was the first time that Santa had beaten Sport since no one can remember when.

The full time whistle saw badge kissing and sky God pointing on a scale not seen since Brasil won the 2002 World Cup. Most of the players joined the club about 3 months ago, but their love for the club was such that I think they will never leave. To top off the celebrations, a giant cake (from 6.55, or just watch the highlights of the game like) was wheeled out to the centre circle. It was Santa’s birthday the previous Thursday gone and this is what they do. Top of the Campeonato Pernambucano!

Santa lost 0-3 three days later to a bunch of clod footed farm labourers from the countryside.****

*In stark contrast to Ireland, hat stands are ten a penny in Recife.

** Supporting the Tricolor is much like cheering on Louth. You know they’re doomed. And if they do manage to find themselves in a staring glory in the face events will conspire to ensure failure.

*** The mam came to a parent teacher meeting with her newborn and introduced me as her future teacher.

**** May not be an accurate description but I stand by it.

***** Santa's quest for promotion to Serie C can be followed by the excellent and ever positive I See A Darkness.