USA vs South Korea Handball World Cup
01/19/2009
Whenever a major World Cup comes to the States in a sport that actually matters, it’s worth showing up—especially when they build these shiny new arenas. The national federation set aside some tickets for the fan groups, though obviously not for free. Given how broke everyone is in January, there wasn't exactly a massive rush to head down to Miami. Still, we made a deal to show up for the opener against South Korea at Madison Square Garden.
It wasn't cheap, but you can't just sit this one out, especially with handball. We remember the old days of cheering at games in San Francisco, Oakland, Kansas City, Switzerland, France, or Tunis... but man, those feel like a lifetime ago. Our national team is known for being "The Hellraisers," so they really needed a hellish crowd to back them up. We figured with ticket prices and sponsorship deals, we wouldn't see much more than a few thousand fans, but even that was an understatement. The turnout was honestly a shock for all the wrong reasons.
Once we managed to get up to the second level of this massive building, we were greeted by some local folk songs about the coast, the kind of stuff you hear at Dodgers or San Diego games. We sort of expected it, so we just laughed it off and found a spot above one of the entrances. There was no way in hell we were sitting there banging those pathetic, branded inflatable drums provided by sponsors—not a chance.
We actually tried to do things the right way by registering a banner to follow the new rules, but they told us banners had to be dropped off by 11:00 AM—while we were still grabbing coffee back in San Francisco. So, we ended up having to smuggle our American flag into the arena. The high-tech police surveillance spotted us almost immediately; two guys in plain clothes showed up trying to seize the flag, which had already traveled further through the stands than those guys have ever seen. But it didn't work. We tucked the flag away and moved along because we couldn't stay put with no backup behind us. The little game of cat and mouse with the security and cops went on during the opening, while the crowd chanted "Mustafa, Mustafa!" and we, split into two groups while cheering, were somehow being stared down by the folks in the seats.
Eventually, we all huddled near an entrance because there were about ten Wildcats standing there. Thank God they were actually cheering too, so the guards couldn't pull the "you're causing a disturbance" card on us. We joined the Wildcats for about ten minutes before deciding to hang the flag on a railing next to another one. Of course, the cameras caught the "unauthorized" flag, and acting on orders from Times Square, they decided this kind of hooliganism had to be shut down immediately. This time, the plainclothes guys showed up in larger numbers, backed by riot police. They came at us from behind, making a huge scene and shoving people, trying to detain us one by one. We managed to rip the flag off the railing just before the cops reached us and hid it in the crowd.
Three people were detained. The reason? Who knows, since we weren't even pushing anyone. Outside the arena, the cops were hunting for the disputed flag, and when they couldn't find it, the commander just gave his best guess: "visibly intoxicated." Honestly, compared to the dead atmosphere inside where nobody was cheering or singing anything besides the stadium announcements, hanging out with the police was actually more entertaining.
In the end, after the late-game euphoria (which they tried to pin on California), the crew managed to sneak the flag out of the arena. We made it back to our neck of the woods through the freezing winter safely. Better to just bolt back home for a beer in the early hours than to stick around for the festivities or the official Fan Zone.
The whole thing was basically a festival of corporate tickets, corporate songs, corporate drums, and choreographed chants. It created an atmosphere so hollow that the players kept looking to the crowd for support every few minutes. Even the official commentator was overstepping his bounds trying to hype up the energy, but it just wasn't happening.
Good luck to the handball players. Those guys deserve it given their history of sacrifice and success. Unfortunately, a high attendance number doesn't guarantee a hellish atmosphere, especially when the visiting fans get a free pass and the locals are treated like the villains—as if the unspoken rule is that we're the ones being tested.
http://img297.imageshack.us/img297/9480/arophk3.jpgAnd here's one more update from the volleyball scene...