Last November I posted on our blog about a new found appreciation for and interest in futbol (soccer). Well, two weeks ago, I was formally baptized into that world of European futbol. Submerged in a wave of pure ethnic hatred I witnessed my neighbors scream vitriolic hate-filled slander at one another; I watched riot police storm onto the playing field as fights broke out all around and as rocks, bottles, and whatever else was accessible came hurling from all directions, in all directions; I experienced the stench and burn of tear gas as it consumed the crowd; and perhaps worst of all, or most fittingly, I left a game that was suspended/called mid-way through the second half still tied 0-0. Yes, a 0-0 draw that ended in a riot – I have indeed been baptized into European futbol.
Tetovo’s main Albanian futbol team played Tetovo’s Macedonian futbol team. Including the game two weeks ago, five of the last six times these two teams have played the games have ended in violence. I went to the game with our good friend Ronan and his colleague, both of whom work for the Office for Security and Cooperation in Europe. They were assigned to go the game in order to observe and report. Prior to the game Ronan flat out stated that this was not one for Kacey. Had she gone, and this is not an exaggeration, she would have been the only female in the crowd of 6,000.
Of the 4-5,000 people the police were expecting over 900 were known troublemakers. 6,000 showed up. The key to understanding the chaos that ensued is to realize the fan clubs and men who go to the games go not for the game itself. In fact, they could care less about the game, other than to make sure their team doesn’t lose. They attend in order to out-do the other team’s fans, to participate in the group activity and see how much disruption they can cause, and to partake in the debauchery of hurling ethnic and hate-filled screams in a way they are unable to do in everyday life.
The first aspect of the crowd to stand out was their organization and coordination. The “fan clubs” for each team sat behind the goals. I’ve benefited from (Washington Griz stadium), been hindered by (McNeese St.), partaken in (Carroll), and witnessed huge crowds (Seahawks – 80,0000). Moreover, I’ve watched on TV and seen crowds that pride themselves in their ability. What I’ve never seen is a crowd as organized, disciplined, and coordinated as the Albanian fan club two weeks ago. Two leaders stood atop the fence separating the crowd from the field and goal below. Upon their cue the entire cheering section would break into instantaneous and choreographed cheers. On the drop of a hat they would all simultaneously switch. Not only were they loud in their screams, their motions, arm movements, and different claps were choreographed. It was like watching a crowd out of a movie, the entire student section in sync.
During introductions the Albanian crowd counted down from ten. Then with precision any drill sergeant would be proud of the fans un-rolled and presented their team and fan section banner – it covered the entire section – it was huge.
The joy of the crowd and their main purpose and point was to seek pleasure in out-doing the other team’s fans. The crowd breakdown was roughly 80% Albanian, 20% Macedonian, as would be expected as that is the rough proportional breakdown of Tetovo in general. Throughout the first half the opposing goal keepers had the unfortunate position of standing within yards of the hostile fan sections. Each goal keeper had to not only keep a keen eye on the ball and the play, but also had to stay alert for large firecrackers, perhaps better described as small explosives, that were constantly tossed in their direction. Cheers would go back and forth, each section trying, although the Albanians by virtue of their numbers and organization more often succeeding, to drown out other section’s cheers. This continued, although with increased vitriol in the second half.
The cheers escalated throughout the match, but were never the benign “we’ve got spirit yes we do” cheers. In fact, they make signs like “Chaet likes boys” and chants like “eat shit Grizzlies” look soft and cuddly. One of the highlights, if you can it that (that I will/am able to write), includes one half of the Albanian fans yelling “Toshe” and the other half following up with “was gay.” It is hard to put this into perspective, but Toshe was the Macedonian pop star who died tragically in a car accident nearly three years ago – he is revered as a saint and demigod throughout Macedonia. His grave is literally a mini-Graceland and Macedonians make pilgrimages to the site. Taken into perspective with the fact that there are no gays in Macedonia (don’t believe me? Just ask someone), this cut to the quick of the Macedonians. When we related this story to other PCVs they were scandalized and could not fathom that people in this country would yell such a thing. Lots of cheers included profane language and reference to body parts and family members.
Then, in the middle of play without prior warning, a shower of toilet paper and flares came raining down on the field. The scene was incredible – the entire Albanian fan section on the same cue unleashed their barrage – the rainbows of white and the glare of red torches was impressive! The game had to be stopped for nearly 10 minutes to clean it all up and clear the pitch. The Albanian fans took great delight in having caused this disruption. It also ratcheted up the intensity of the cheers and raised the ante for the Macedonians.
A few minutes after the resumption of play the Macedonian section burst into action – it was obvious they were trying to do something. It appeared they were going to try and unfurl banners of their own. However, they botched it, much to the delight of the other 80% of fans who started chanting: “That was ridiculous, that was . . . “ (remember the military precision with which the Albanians had unfurled their banners and with which they executed cheers throughout the game). Hahaha, that was indeed pretty funny. With their pride hurt but steadfast in their goal, the Macedonians made a second attempt, but again, they screwed up and the banners remained twisted jumbles. This time the Albanian crowd responded with: “Learn from us you f#@!ing peasants! Learn from . . . “ Calling a person a peasant is an insult sure to elicit a quick response.
At this point the Macedonians succeeded on their third attempt and presented their banners to the crowd along with every middle finger in their section. One banner, several meters long, read “Death to Albanians” – but Albanians in an extremely derogatory way, much like using the “n” word. The insult was returned in-kind. A few seconds later the Macedonian crowd began scrambling up the stands and lining up along the top of the stands with their heads in their shirts leaning out over the back side of the stadium. Two plumes of smoke were rising from the first row of their section and blowing back into the Macedonians. Pretty soon it became apparent that the smoke was not from the torches or flares periodically set-off during the match, but tear gas.
At the unfurling of the “Death to Albanians” banner a few hooligans hell-bent on avenging the insult leapt on the field and ran toward the Macedonian section. A few Macedonians returned the invitation and small skirmishes broke out on the playing field. Another tear gas canister was posited smack dab in the middle of the goal box. A small minority of attendees began throwing rocks at this point. Police were escorting some of the Macedonians out of the stands. Then, with attention distracted, a lone Albanian youth began tearing down the Macedonian fans club banner (Blue and white “BOJ. . .” sign in the picture) and running away. A large cheer went up among the crowd. The Macedonian fan club realized what was going on and some thug looking guys, clubs and sticks in hand and shirts around their faces, jumped onto the pitch and went after the Albanian. All hell broke loose. People jumped from the stands in all directions and for a moment it looked like it was going to escalate to a point beyond seriousness. To the rescue the riot police in full riot gear stormed in from their previously hidden spot below the stadium and were actually pretty good at preventing further mayhem and blood spilling on the field. Yet, with the lid blown off, rocks, bottles, and every other type of garbage and loose debris available was put to use as a projectile. A deafening cheer of “OO – CHH – KK” (UCK) enveloped the entire area. The UCK was/is the “National Liberation Army” of Albanians that fought in Kosovo in 1998 and in Macedonia in 2001. Concurrently, the winds shifted and the tear gas that had been affecting mainly the Macedonian fan section engulfed the rest of the crowd. It was not pleasant.
Small skirmishes continued as fighters played cat and mouse games with the police. Everyone was on edge and the situation was pretty dicey, although it appeared that the worst of it had passed. The game was called at this point, still tied 0-0. The danger then became riots, mobs, fights, and fans outside of the stadium. Because Ronan and his colleague were working, we stayed for a while while they “monitored” the situation. The police kept the Macedonians inside the stadium while they cleared all of the Albanians. Police and soldiers were everywhere. Once most of the Albanians had been sent away the police escorted the Macedonians out of the stadium. The threat of a riot and looting was still high, but none came to pass.
Quite simply, the game was the single greatest sporting event I have ever been to. It was not exciting in the way of the NCAA basketball tournaments. It was not as much fun as watching Caitlin run. Nor was it as important as watching Seamus in Tennessee – what it was was a window into something that can only be experienced to be understood. The game allowed me to come to a fuller understanding of futbol and European futbol in particular, the historic role futbol fan clubs have played, the Balkans in general and this country and specifically this community of Tetovo that Kacey and I call home.
Futbol hooliganism has a long history, and here in the Balkans an important history. It was from the fan clubs of futbol teams that paramilitary groups were organized during the Yugoslav wars of the 1990s. Arkan’s Tigers, the most notorious paramilitaries and the true scum of the earth were the men and boys from Red Star Belgrade’s fan club. Likewise, Croatian Ustashe paramilitary groups formed from the fan clubs in their country. One of the initial sparks to the powder keg was a riot between Red Star Belgrade fans and fans from a club in Zagreb, Croatia. To witness, albeit on a much smaller scale, this type of debauchery was phenomenal. To watch my neighbors drunk on pure ethnic hatred was fascinating. The manifestation of ethnic hatred was ugly – no redeeming qualities of the human species were on display that day. And with that 0-0 game called due to an ethnic riot, I was baptized into the world of futbol.
