To Celebrate is to Win - Germany 2006 World Cup
A Mexican Heart in the Heart of Europe
Darmstadt, Germany. June 25, 2006 - As the best 16 teams made it to the second round, the Germans
are certain they will become four-time World Cup champions. Certain of this is at least the German rock-
pop group “Sportfreunde Stiller,” who proudly sings "54, 74, 90, 2006" (combining the years when
Germany’s team have won the Cup.) Yes! that is the title of their song.
Perhaps this logic has always separated winners from losers. Unfortunately, in Latin America the
mentality that has been instilled in us is: “what really matters is to compete, not to win.” Is it possible
then, that we have always reasoned in this easy and false way? Is it possible that a father came up with
this phrase to console his son after a defeat?
Mexicans, however, posses the gift of not feeling defeated even after losing: the gift of celebrating, of
euphoria, of not caring to spend money on travel packets to Germany to watch our country’s team not
win. Yes, the marvelous gift of being willing to take the World Cup as it comes.
The media in Germany estimated that approximately 40 thousand Mexicans were in Hanover, western
Germany, to watch the Mexico vs. Angola soccer game on June 16. When we arrived to the main train
station in Hanover, Mexico was there! Mexico was not only visible, and audible: you could feel it! The
colors green, white and red, and the coat of arms depicting the eagle devouring the serpent, dominated
the landscape. People from no other country have run yelling with so much pride and dignity the name of
their own country: “Mexico, Mexico!
Collective euphoria had already spread among the Germans; sometimes we were not able to tell them
apart because they were wearing the same colors as us. Our final destiny was the giant screens, which
according to my friend who had inquired really well, were located at a place called “Waterloo Platz.” We
did not even ask where this place was; we simply followed the crowd of Mexicans.
The closer we got, the more we were overcome with emotion. All we were seeing were Mexicans, and we
could only hear people talking in Spanish. My friend had just one fixation on her mind since we arrived to
Hanover: to find out where a northerner music Mexican band called “El Recodo,” was playing. The band
had already played at Nürnberg the day the Mexican squad played against Iran. Waterloo Plazt turned
into a gigantic Mexican party. All the music being played there blended into one, and it was not possible
to differentiate it. All of a sudden, we were able to recognize the music coming from a closed tent, similar
to a discotheque. We tried to enter the tent, but the German security personnel kept telling us: "alles ist
voll" (everything is full.) It was 8:00PM. The band “El Recodo” had finished its presentation; we got there
too late.
It looked as if the Mexican soccer squad was going to play against itself. Angola fans did not dare to
enter Mexican territory. We never saw Angola’s colors in front of the giant screens. Getting into the
crowd, we were able to find a good spot, just steps away from the beer stands. The spot also attracted
us because there was a group of Mexican guys that would not stop yelling and cheering.
Before each game, the German TV presenters would introduce each country’s teams, a brief history and
images. The entire crowd became a single voice when it was our country’s turn, yelling: “Mexico!” It was
something similar to when a trendy singer is presented before a stadium crowed with frenetic teen girls.
Since the very first minute of the game, our repertory of cheering –going from the song “Cielito Lindo,” to
the popular Mexican chant “chiquitibum"– would not stop, making our vocal cords explode to the
maximum, as if our chanting could be heard by our team’s forwards.
At the end of the first half, none of the teams had scored a goal. “It’s okay –we thought– there are still
45 more minutes left.” Neither did our new Mexican friends nor us lose hope, which was demonstrated by
us painting our faces with the colors of the flag. They did not only bring sombreros, clown’s wigs, rattles
and flags, but even face paint! During the last minutes of the game, uncertainty and the fear of a goal
from Angola were eating our nerves. The final score was not what we were expecting. Mexico 0 - Angola
0. Nevertheless, enthusiasm and cheerfulness continued.
The game was over, but TV cameras continued showing the crowd on the big screens: the place tuned
into a discotheque. No doubt the German organizers predicted our desire to dance! Even though the
party was at its peak, my friend, her German boyfriend, and myself needed to catch the train back home
to Darmstadt, almost a two and a half-hour trip. On our way to the train station, the streets continued to
be Mexican’s territory, watched by German police.
It is worth mentioning that police security provided by German authorities after the game, was excellent.
We were not the only Mexicans waiting for a train’s connection; we were surrounded by hundreds more.
Most of them were not able to catch up on their sleep, which several times called the attention of German
police, in a pacific way and without any altercation.
Original article written in Spanish. English translation by Eduardo Barraza.
are certain they will become four-time World Cup champions. Certain of this is at least the German rock-
pop group “Sportfreunde Stiller,” who proudly sings "54, 74, 90, 2006" (combining the years when
Germany’s team have won the Cup.) Yes! that is the title of their song.
Perhaps this logic has always separated winners from losers. Unfortunately, in Latin America the
mentality that has been instilled in us is: “what really matters is to compete, not to win.” Is it possible
then, that we have always reasoned in this easy and false way? Is it possible that a father came up with
this phrase to console his son after a defeat?
Mexicans, however, posses the gift of not feeling defeated even after losing: the gift of celebrating, of
euphoria, of not caring to spend money on travel packets to Germany to watch our country’s team not
win. Yes, the marvelous gift of being willing to take the World Cup as it comes.
The media in Germany estimated that approximately 40 thousand Mexicans were in Hanover, western
Germany, to watch the Mexico vs. Angola soccer game on June 16. When we arrived to the main train
station in Hanover, Mexico was there! Mexico was not only visible, and audible: you could feel it! The
colors green, white and red, and the coat of arms depicting the eagle devouring the serpent, dominated
the landscape. People from no other country have run yelling with so much pride and dignity the name of
their own country: “Mexico, Mexico!
Collective euphoria had already spread among the Germans; sometimes we were not able to tell them
apart because they were wearing the same colors as us. Our final destiny was the giant screens, which
according to my friend who had inquired really well, were located at a place called “Waterloo Platz.” We
did not even ask where this place was; we simply followed the crowd of Mexicans.
The closer we got, the more we were overcome with emotion. All we were seeing were Mexicans, and we
could only hear people talking in Spanish. My friend had just one fixation on her mind since we arrived to
Hanover: to find out where a northerner music Mexican band called “El Recodo,” was playing. The band
had already played at Nürnberg the day the Mexican squad played against Iran. Waterloo Plazt turned
into a gigantic Mexican party. All the music being played there blended into one, and it was not possible
to differentiate it. All of a sudden, we were able to recognize the music coming from a closed tent, similar
to a discotheque. We tried to enter the tent, but the German security personnel kept telling us: "alles ist
voll" (everything is full.) It was 8:00PM. The band “El Recodo” had finished its presentation; we got there
too late.
It looked as if the Mexican soccer squad was going to play against itself. Angola fans did not dare to
enter Mexican territory. We never saw Angola’s colors in front of the giant screens. Getting into the
crowd, we were able to find a good spot, just steps away from the beer stands. The spot also attracted
us because there was a group of Mexican guys that would not stop yelling and cheering.
Before each game, the German TV presenters would introduce each country’s teams, a brief history and
images. The entire crowd became a single voice when it was our country’s turn, yelling: “Mexico!” It was
something similar to when a trendy singer is presented before a stadium crowed with frenetic teen girls.
Since the very first minute of the game, our repertory of cheering –going from the song “Cielito Lindo,” to
the popular Mexican chant “chiquitibum"– would not stop, making our vocal cords explode to the
maximum, as if our chanting could be heard by our team’s forwards.
At the end of the first half, none of the teams had scored a goal. “It’s okay –we thought– there are still
45 more minutes left.” Neither did our new Mexican friends nor us lose hope, which was demonstrated by
us painting our faces with the colors of the flag. They did not only bring sombreros, clown’s wigs, rattles
and flags, but even face paint! During the last minutes of the game, uncertainty and the fear of a goal
from Angola were eating our nerves. The final score was not what we were expecting. Mexico 0 - Angola
0. Nevertheless, enthusiasm and cheerfulness continued.
The game was over, but TV cameras continued showing the crowd on the big screens: the place tuned
into a discotheque. No doubt the German organizers predicted our desire to dance! Even though the
party was at its peak, my friend, her German boyfriend, and myself needed to catch the train back home
to Darmstadt, almost a two and a half-hour trip. On our way to the train station, the streets continued to
be Mexican’s territory, watched by German police.
It is worth mentioning that police security provided by German authorities after the game, was excellent.
We were not the only Mexicans waiting for a train’s connection; we were surrounded by hundreds more.
Most of them were not able to catch up on their sleep, which several times called the attention of German
police, in a pacific way and without any altercation.
Original article written in Spanish. English translation by Eduardo Barraza.
Irma Sofía Navarro Viloria is a political scientist graduated
from the University of Darmstadt, Germany where she has
resided for more than 10 years. She is a frequent
Barriozona contributor.
from the University of Darmstadt, Germany where she has
resided for more than 10 years. She is a frequent
Barriozona contributor.
Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues in Phoenix, Arizona
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