Jelly
10-02-2005, 11:39 AM
Marcos Breton: The passion, the trash talk - it's the same there
The NFL in Mexico
By Marcos Bretón -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Sunday, October 2, 2005
Story appeared in Sports section, Page C1
MEXICO CITY - There are gridirons in the Third World. There is synthetic turf amid the squalor. Queen's "We are the Champions" snuffs out the brass and strings of mariachi. And after a breakaway touchdown run, a nation of Aztec descendants does the "Tomahawk Chop" without a shred of irony.
Who knew about this?
Certainly not many of us gringos who would be surprised to learn of Mexico's passion for American football, played here in a big way. So big 30,000 or more will turn out to watch Mexican teams go mano a mano, helmet to helmet, trash-talking so coarsely that even Raiders fans would blush.
So big that the No. 1 college sport in a land of 100 million residents is not fútbol (soccer). It's football, the one college sport in which scholarships are offered, players are recruited, games are televised and admission is charged.
Indeed, some wondered why the NFL chose Mexico for the site of its first regular-season game on foreign soil - to be played here tonight between the 49ers and Arizona Cardinals - but Mexican fanáticos of football already knew why.
"We have a tradition of college football since the 1920s," said Pepe Espinoza, an NFL analyst for Fox's Spanish-language broadcasts and a football institution in Mexico.
"Some say it happened when some Americans working in the oil business started playing here, but the University of Mexico started to practice and play football, and they started to fill the stadiums."
Then in the late 1960s, a niche passion took hold nationwide when the NFL began broadcasting games to Mexico at the tail end of Vince Lombardi's Green Bay Packers glory.
Soon it figured that a people as addicted to TV as we are would grow addicted to football. And with cable and DirecTV packages available in Mexico, football is now flowing in the nation's blood. It's not played professionally, because the NFL is so dominant. So Mexicans aching to crack helmets play it in a 12-team college league fast becoming a feeder to NFL Europe and growing poised to become a pipeline to the NFL.
Mexican college football is not there yet, not by a long shot. In fact, the only Mexican-born position player to get close is Rolando Cantu, a 6-foot-5, 360-pound offensive guard who rose from the college ranks in Mexico to NFL Europe and a spot on the Cardinals' practice squad. Homeboy isn't on the real team playing at Azteca Stadium today, nor are any of his countrymen on any other team.
But mañana?
Maybe, because these muchachos are big, some weighing 300 pounds while some are as filthy as Americans can be in their intentions toward opponents.
And the fans? They know the game but put their own spin on it. Oh, they'll stand for the opening kickoff here just as we do. They'll chant "ohhhhhh" as the kicker approaches the ball and then holler in time with foot meeting pigskin. But while long kickoffs caught deep in your own end zone are cheered in the U.S. because no return was attempted, in Mexico such caution in the return man is mocked and whistled - his manhood questioned.
That happened Saturday, in a college game 35 or so miles north of downtown Mexico City, in what appeared to be a depressed, industrial area until suddenly a college appeared on a hillside.
The Tecnológico De Monterrey, a private school where doctors and engineers are trained, was hosting the Instituto Politecnico Nacional - a clash between the visiting White Eagles and the home Borregos Salvajes. That's Spanish for the Savage Sheep.
Sí, señor, that's what they are called. And savage they are, a school that costs $10,000 American dollars a year to attend, recruits talent from faraway hamlets and offers scholarships - not full rides, but close - to most of its players.
The Sheep almost won the title last year, losing at their stadium. So this year, on their media guide, are emblazoned the words: "Never Again at Home." In English, not Spanish.
In fact, these boys still seem as if they are mad - a crew of 18-to 24-year-olds who are eligible to play five years here - and who are supported by corporate sponsors such as Coca-Cola and adidas. The poor White Eagles are a public school with no sponsors, so you can guess what happened Saturday. Think Jesuit High School against McClatchy, a mismatch.
In fact, the chasm between rich and poor in Mexico is exemplified in football. Unlike soccer, in which many stars were once street urchins, Mexican football players often come from well-to-do families, because it's an expensive sport.
But its brutal essence is the same en Español. Before kickoff Saturday, the Savage Sheep huddled under the end zone seats, behind a blue curtain, to prepare for the White Eagles - kneeling in prayer, just like Americans, then exploding into an ear-piercing chant of hellfire profanities that prove how much more evocative Spanish is than English.
Here were future doctors and accountants, sweating profusely under helmets and pads, screaming scalding language of opponents' heads on sharp spears, of vile references to other men's mothers, and of the ultimate insult uttered by Mexican mouths: Let's kill those "Indios," some boys shouted.
That slur cuts deep to the heart of Mexico's indigenous roots, a put-down that carries with it ignorance, degradation and, yes, racism. No one wants to be called an Indio in the former empire of indigenous kings, because Indios beg on street corners.
And no one wanted to face the Savage Sheep on Saturday as they blew the Eagles off the line of scrimmage, bullied them into many false starts, cold-cocked their quarterback with a helmet-to-chin blast and high-fived each other all the way home.
The toughest Eagle response came from their fans, who chanted sexually explicit put-downs toward the Sheep, who paid no mind and took the game.
Somewhere, with the help of an interpreter, Lombardi surely was smiling.
The NFL in Mexico
By Marcos Bretón -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Sunday, October 2, 2005
Story appeared in Sports section, Page C1
MEXICO CITY - There are gridirons in the Third World. There is synthetic turf amid the squalor. Queen's "We are the Champions" snuffs out the brass and strings of mariachi. And after a breakaway touchdown run, a nation of Aztec descendants does the "Tomahawk Chop" without a shred of irony.
Who knew about this?
Certainly not many of us gringos who would be surprised to learn of Mexico's passion for American football, played here in a big way. So big 30,000 or more will turn out to watch Mexican teams go mano a mano, helmet to helmet, trash-talking so coarsely that even Raiders fans would blush.
So big that the No. 1 college sport in a land of 100 million residents is not fútbol (soccer). It's football, the one college sport in which scholarships are offered, players are recruited, games are televised and admission is charged.
Indeed, some wondered why the NFL chose Mexico for the site of its first regular-season game on foreign soil - to be played here tonight between the 49ers and Arizona Cardinals - but Mexican fanáticos of football already knew why.
"We have a tradition of college football since the 1920s," said Pepe Espinoza, an NFL analyst for Fox's Spanish-language broadcasts and a football institution in Mexico.
"Some say it happened when some Americans working in the oil business started playing here, but the University of Mexico started to practice and play football, and they started to fill the stadiums."
Then in the late 1960s, a niche passion took hold nationwide when the NFL began broadcasting games to Mexico at the tail end of Vince Lombardi's Green Bay Packers glory.
Soon it figured that a people as addicted to TV as we are would grow addicted to football. And with cable and DirecTV packages available in Mexico, football is now flowing in the nation's blood. It's not played professionally, because the NFL is so dominant. So Mexicans aching to crack helmets play it in a 12-team college league fast becoming a feeder to NFL Europe and growing poised to become a pipeline to the NFL.
Mexican college football is not there yet, not by a long shot. In fact, the only Mexican-born position player to get close is Rolando Cantu, a 6-foot-5, 360-pound offensive guard who rose from the college ranks in Mexico to NFL Europe and a spot on the Cardinals' practice squad. Homeboy isn't on the real team playing at Azteca Stadium today, nor are any of his countrymen on any other team.
But mañana?
Maybe, because these muchachos are big, some weighing 300 pounds while some are as filthy as Americans can be in their intentions toward opponents.
And the fans? They know the game but put their own spin on it. Oh, they'll stand for the opening kickoff here just as we do. They'll chant "ohhhhhh" as the kicker approaches the ball and then holler in time with foot meeting pigskin. But while long kickoffs caught deep in your own end zone are cheered in the U.S. because no return was attempted, in Mexico such caution in the return man is mocked and whistled - his manhood questioned.
That happened Saturday, in a college game 35 or so miles north of downtown Mexico City, in what appeared to be a depressed, industrial area until suddenly a college appeared on a hillside.
The Tecnológico De Monterrey, a private school where doctors and engineers are trained, was hosting the Instituto Politecnico Nacional - a clash between the visiting White Eagles and the home Borregos Salvajes. That's Spanish for the Savage Sheep.
Sí, señor, that's what they are called. And savage they are, a school that costs $10,000 American dollars a year to attend, recruits talent from faraway hamlets and offers scholarships - not full rides, but close - to most of its players.
The Sheep almost won the title last year, losing at their stadium. So this year, on their media guide, are emblazoned the words: "Never Again at Home." In English, not Spanish.
In fact, these boys still seem as if they are mad - a crew of 18-to 24-year-olds who are eligible to play five years here - and who are supported by corporate sponsors such as Coca-Cola and adidas. The poor White Eagles are a public school with no sponsors, so you can guess what happened Saturday. Think Jesuit High School against McClatchy, a mismatch.
In fact, the chasm between rich and poor in Mexico is exemplified in football. Unlike soccer, in which many stars were once street urchins, Mexican football players often come from well-to-do families, because it's an expensive sport.
But its brutal essence is the same en Español. Before kickoff Saturday, the Savage Sheep huddled under the end zone seats, behind a blue curtain, to prepare for the White Eagles - kneeling in prayer, just like Americans, then exploding into an ear-piercing chant of hellfire profanities that prove how much more evocative Spanish is than English.
Here were future doctors and accountants, sweating profusely under helmets and pads, screaming scalding language of opponents' heads on sharp spears, of vile references to other men's mothers, and of the ultimate insult uttered by Mexican mouths: Let's kill those "Indios," some boys shouted.
That slur cuts deep to the heart of Mexico's indigenous roots, a put-down that carries with it ignorance, degradation and, yes, racism. No one wants to be called an Indio in the former empire of indigenous kings, because Indios beg on street corners.
And no one wanted to face the Savage Sheep on Saturday as they blew the Eagles off the line of scrimmage, bullied them into many false starts, cold-cocked their quarterback with a helmet-to-chin blast and high-fived each other all the way home.
The toughest Eagle response came from their fans, who chanted sexually explicit put-downs toward the Sheep, who paid no mind and took the game.
Somewhere, with the help of an interpreter, Lombardi surely was smiling.