Playing on the big speaker , reggaeton , cachangue ; Latin urban songs usual to Paraguayans . I take a bite of chorizo and kill the anxiety . The scent of charcoal and grilling meat from the neighbors ' house inundated the air . The sky , a tone of light blue and orange , began to saturate with the smoke from the neighbor ' s asado .
The teenage boys were at their golden hour , setting bets , analyzing stats , discussing the players , and laughing . They had been waiting for this moment , this atmosphere where they were hyped and ecstatic , throughout all their day in school ; it ' s what everybody talked about that day . The Albiroja play today .
I walked into my kitchen , and the smell of baked corn from sopa paraguaya , fresh out of the oven , swamped my nostrils . Zuni , our empleada , was slicing the sopa paraguaya into small square pieces to serve in the asado that was prepared for the game . “¿ Que tal pio ?, vamos a ver el partido ”, I opened the conversation with her . " Y ojala que gane Paraguay ," she responded , and I could see the faith radiating in her eyes . We all desired that night those raging flashes of adrenaline , characteristic of the Albirroja games , and a win that would bring Paraguayans together .
Forty-five minutes of the game had already passed , and the halftime whistle blew . As a typical Gen-Z , in a spasm , I refreshed Instagram and already meme accounts were striking . A Simpson character with a Paraguayan football shirt and a lit candle sat praying with an expression of anxious imploration . The caption : " Hi god .. It ' s me again ". This satirical commentary , even though more than ingrained within the Paraguayan culture , filled me with the uncertainty of results , and I felt a nervous flutter deep within my stomach . The victory of Paraguay in this game ensured that the next morning we would wake up to a united and jubilant nation .
I looked up at the 50 cm smart TV to a flash of the people at the stadium . Dads with their sons , and families , all covered in some form of blue , white , and red , doing the wave , some eating , others nibbling on their nails- kids with eyes full of faith . The whole stadium whistling and chanting .
My heartbeat accelerated from 77 bpm to 140 bpm ; my stomach filled with butterflies , and my abdomen tightened when I let out a scream that left my throat sore and tingling . From outside , the roar in a deeper , lower note was followed by banging on the wall , pounding on the leather couch , and tears of elation from the boys , who were more overjoyed than a recently graduated senior . The speaker turned on , this time at full volume , with Paraguayan cancha songs , and the boys rejoiced , whistled , and ecstatically danced around . I felt an exuberant rush of relief as I watched the repetition of the goal . The adrenaline of the moment electrified my body .
The live camera from Tigo Sports captured the moment when the Paraguayan nation harmonized more than ever . The people at the stadium hugged the stranger beside them like it was their last day on earth ; the barra brava together , weaving the gigantic flag up and down as they jumped , screaming , kids thrown up in the air ; the perfect patriotic image . Every single Paraguayan felt that moment in their souls … because that ' s what the Paraguayan spirit evokes : unifying under that sense of nation , even if it is just for a sport .
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Travesía • revista estudiantil