It was meant to be the day that Argentina’s fans finally got to see their heroes in the flesh. Instead, the closest most of the five million supporters in Buenos Aires got to Lionel Messi was looking up as his helicopter circled above.
For four hours, the open-top bus carrying Messi and his fellow World Cup winners had crawled through the streets of Argentina’s capital. Starting at the grounds of the Argentina Football Association compound near to the city’s airport, the plan had been to travel to the Obelisk, a giant tower in the centre of town that had become the focal point of celebrations. The bus never made it.
Argentina’s players were forced to abandon the bus parade and were airlifted out by helicopter.Credit:AP
The clues that this would be no ordinary celebration had been there from the start. On Tuesday, the bus had taken over an hour to make the 10-minute journey from the airport to the AFA grounds.
Having pressed on, despite concerns over the size of the crowd, the decision was taken to abandon the parade at 4pm, local time, following strict advice from local police.
In the intervening hours, fans had attempted to board the bus by jumping off bridges as the vehicle passed under. One fan had earlier said: “I’m going to jump from the bridge when I see the team”. It was unclear if the man, wearing a Spider-Man mask, had been serious. Even so, it pointed to an atmosphere that could turn at a moment’s notice.
The police’s demands to call off the parade led to the bus being driven to Parque Roca, a park along the parade route that also holds a tennis stadium, where players were seen boarding helicopters.
A police helicopter, with Lionel Messi aboard, flies over the gathered fans.Credit:Getty Images
With millions of fans stranded in the city centre, an afternoon of joy threatened to become an evening of tension.
There were immediate calls for calm from the office of the president, Alberto Fernandes. “The World Champions are flying over the entire route in helicopters because it became impossible to continue on land due to the explosion of popular joy,” Gabriela Cerruti, a spokesperson for Fernandez, tweeted.
As day turned to night, the millions of fans still in the city appeared to heed the warning with a potentially febrile atmosphere remaining calm.
Thirty-one people had been injured falling from street and traffic lights having jostled to get a vantage point.
Fans climbed high to get a good view of their heroes.Credit:AP
Before the drive-by became a fly-by, the collective energy of the crowds had been chaotic but happy.
Earlier in the day, Gonzalo, 23, a gardener, tried to explain the feeling in the streets, “You always see them on the TV,” he said of the team, “but now it’s like they’re gods coming down from the heavens.”
His friend, Salvador, 22, also a gardener, said: “They’re like gods from Mount Olympus”. He then posed for a photo with a replica of the World Cup trophy and admitted he did not even know which way they should be walking to see the team, as the route had changed so many times.
A few streets away, people had already started tearing down pieces of fences to make shortcuts on an overpass that had been part of the originally scheduled route. Fans swarmed both sides of the highway, standing between lane barriers, flying massive blue and white flags emblazoned with the Argentine sun. The sun bore down on the crowds below, marching down the asphalt in the humidity and 30-degree heat. Some had been standing alongside the road for hours.
Argentina fans converge on the highways for the homecoming parade.Credit:AP
Further down the highway, Mauro, a rubbish collector, 28, said the only way he was able to reach here from his home in San Martin was to drive his motorcycle. “On this side of Buenos Aires, it’s not possible to come here right now,” he says. “Only by motorcycle.” He came with his brother and a friend, all of whom were drinking wine with orange juice with large chunks of ice, as they waited for the team in the middle of the highway.
Though people were climbing overpass signs, the sound of drums filled the air and the roar of the occasional jet pierced the din of soccer chants celebrating Messi and Diego Maradona, families were gathered with children and sentiments seemed hopeful to finally give the team the homecoming welcome they deserved.
Strangers helped mothers with babies in prams up onto the ramps to the parade route, and many more people shared water with those who had come less-prepared. One mother, Madeline, 31, said: “I’m in a euphoric state. I want to go up [on to the overpass]. I want to see something.” When asked if she feared for the safety of her family, she said:“No, I’m sure we’ll be safe”.
Prior to the announcement by AFA president Chiqui Tapia to announce the team’s evacuation, the sentiment in the streets was happiness, confusion and hopefulness. Just before the parade, Danillo, 24, a jail worker with a bass drum strapped to his chest had been ready to party. Of winning the World Cup, he said “[This is] a feeling that no one is going to feel until they get it. We are going to have a party to celebrate with all the Argentines with the whole world…this Argentine Cup of Mess, and the team. We’re going stay all night, to party, party, party!”
Danillo probably stayed true to his word – bus or no bus.
The Telegraph, London
