Ghanaian Soccer Fans: Testosterone and Stinky Pits

Soccer - or "football" as it is called in every other place in the world besides the States - is the national pastime here in Ghana. On our first full day here in Kumasi, we were walking to find a bank to exchange money. Everyone on the street had their radios turned to a station with a man talking so fast I thought it was an auctioneer. All of a sudden, the entire city erupted in a roar of victory, completely stunning me and the rest of the researchers. Kumasi had just beaten Accra- their arch enemies - in the Ghana premier league championships. We soon found out the game had been here in Kumasi, for shortly after as we driving back to our hostel we encountered thousands of fans running wildly in the streets, waving their shirts frantically, honking horns, and jumping up and down as they poured out of the stadium. This was my first introduction to the extent to which Ghanaians live and breathe football.

My second introduction occurred last night. It turns out that Ghanaians are nearly as passionate about the European leagues as they are about their Ghanaian ones. The talk of Ghana the past couple of days has centered around last night's match between Manchester United and Chelsea as they faced off in Moscow for the Champions League final. Since we arrived here, we have met and made friends with a number of medical students who will be coming to the University of Michigan this fall to do 6 weeks of rounds at our hospital. The guys made us promise to join them for the match at the medical school hostel, located close to our own hostel.

Now, in the States, I picture the TV viewing of championship matches as a time for eating drinking, and swearing at the TV. You know - chips and salsa, beer, pretzels, cheese, popcorn, swearing at the TV...unfortunately we found out that in Ghana they replace food and drink with sweat and B.O., although they still retain the foul language. We arrived to find ourselves in a small, stuffy dark room with approximately 60 guys and no women save us. The air was the most awful smell of testosterone, sweat (it is soo hot here, and I'm guessing few if any of the guys managed a shower between hospital rounds and the game...eeew!) and hoooribble B.O. We were packed into the room, and I thought I'd pass out from the lack of fresh air - thank god I didn't have any food I was hoping to eat!

I was cheering for Chelsea, but they were playing lousy and Man U wasn't looking much better. When each team scored, guys would jump up, tear off their shirts, run around the perimeter of the room and then jump over all the couches and chairs where everyone was sitting, screaming and pounding their chests and body-checking the guys cheering for the opposing team. By the time the game finished its double OT and went into shoot-out, I pretty much didn't care anymore who won or lost- I just wanted to shower! And of course, just as the first round of shootouts ended and Chelsea stepped up to take the first sudden death kick, one of the excited fans kicked out the electricity cord and the TV went off - by the time it came back on, Chelsea had missed and Man U were the victors.

The Man U fans screamed as they ran out of the room, the scent of testosterone trailing behind them and into the street. Meanwhile, I couldn't even count on both hands the number of Chelsea fans I saw crying, including our med school friends.

Needless to say, I don't think us girls will choose to watch the next big game at their hostel, our own has a much bigger screen and an OUTDOOR LOUNGE WITH PLENTY OF FRESH AIR. Oh, and beer, too.

The game reminded me of being in Seoul at the town hall square with 60,ooo other S. Korea fans watching the World Cup, only of course it was outside, and their was food drinks, and yes - plenty of swearing.