So, I decided I had to see Flamengo play São Paulo live. It’s always a big deal, right? Lots of history between these two clubs. Wasn’t sure what to expect, but figured it was time to actually go instead of just watching on TV.
Getting Ready for the Game
First thing was sorting out tickets. Man, that was a bit of a hassle. Tried online first, the official site was jammed, typical. Ended up calling a buddy who knows a guy, you know how it is. Paid a bit over face value, but nothing crazy. At least I knew the ticket was real. Then had to figure out how to get to the Maracanã. Decided against driving – parking is a nightmare and expensive. Planned to take the metro, seemed easiest.
- Check ticket sites (failed)
- Call friend (success!)
- Plan metro route
- Dig out my old Flamengo shirt
Match Day Journey
On the day, headed out early. Good thing I did. The metro was already packed, full of red and black shirts. You could feel the buzz building up. Lots of singing, even on the train. Got off at the Maracanã station, and wow, the crowd outside was huge. Street vendors selling food, drinks, knock-off jerseys everywhere. The noise level just ramps up as you get closer.
Inside the Stadium
Getting through security took a while, but it moved steadily. Found my section, then my seat. The view was pretty good, actually. Bought a ridiculously overpriced water. The stadium was filling up fast. Both sets of fans were making noise, trying to out-sing each other. Seeing the pitch live, the colours, the sheer size of the place – it’s way different than on TV. You really feel the scale of it all.
Watching it Unfold
Kick-off time. The roar when the teams came out was deafening. Seriously, my ears were ringing. The game itself was intense. Lots of back and forth. You get caught up in it, shouting directions like they can hear you. When Flamengo scored, the place just erupted. People hugging strangers, jumping up and down. São Paulo had their moments too, and their fans were loud whenever they attacked. Felt the tension, especially during close calls or referee decisions. It wasn’t just watching; it felt like being part of something massive.
Heading Home
Final whistle blew. Flamengo won this time, so the mood was electric leaving the stadium. More singing, chanting all the way back to the metro. The journey home was slow, crowds everywhere, but everyone was mostly in a good mood (at least the Flamengo fans). Got back pretty late, tired but buzzing. Definitely worth the effort and the slightly dodgy ticket process. It’s an experience you don’t forget easily, much better than sitting on the sofa. Just gotta remember to take earplugs next time maybe.
