THE CHOCOLATE BOX

YOICHI IGAWA RECALLS A DREAM TRIP TO LA BOMBONERA

- YOICHI IGAWA

COUNTLESS confetti, tinted in the colours of the setting sun, flutter through the hollow of La Bombonera. Ahead of the slowly descending pieces of paper, the huge blue wall behind the goal shimmers. The fans who have packed into the towering stands continue to sing hoarsely and to bounce without a break.

This is a sight I've always yearned to see.

The vibrations are transmitted to the opposite side. The song with a sweet and sad melody stirs excitement and arouses a traveller's sentiment at the same time, and you don't know whether it is your feet or you yourself that is shaking.

I didn't cry, but noticed that the back of my nose was numb and my mouth was very dry.

Buenos Aires, May 2005. In the home stadium of Boca Juniors, nicknamed la Bombonera, the Chocolate Box, my senses could not have been more alert. Maybe it was because I was still young. But I don't think there is a football fan who hasn't been struck by the scenes and the sounds in the same space at first hand.

I was living in the United States at the time and decided that this would be the last act of my long break, so I packed my backpack and set off on a trip to South America. At my first destination, through a combination of several fortuitous events, I experienced the Superclásico I had longed for.

The derby in the Argentinian capital between Boca and River Plate was as exciting and joyous as the rumours said it would be.

With hindsight, I think that was when I developed a vague desire to live my life by writing into real aim.

"Look, you mustn't take anything with you apart from your ticket," Carla, who lives out the rest of her elegant life in the Belgrano neighbourhood, said in rather didactic tone on the day before the match. "Leave your passport, wallet, watch, everything in your room. Even though you'll want to take pictures, don't bring cameras. Anything can happen in that area."