They were playing a friendly against Chile at the Houston Dynamo stadium, and no sooner had I told our old friends Silvi and Ignacio in Santiago we were going than a box arrived at our door holding official Chile supporters T-shirts! As that team was by far the favourites I was happy to turn up in Chilean regalia (wearing my England shirt with our one World Cup star underneath for good measure).
By a serendipitous coincidence Pete's best friend in his class, Elena, is Chilean, and so we had the company of her and her family. Unfortunately both Pete and Elena, having been born in the USA, enjoy dismaying their parents by claiming to be 100% American rather than acknowledging the truth of their heritages. I took along both my Chilean and USA flags so that they could express the preference, as well as my Welsh flag as a true loyalty test for my son.
I'd like to tell you it was a game of two halves, but it was a game of two goals scored in the first nine minutes and then little after. There were some chances, but there was a definite lack of finishing quality, mostly because Man U wouldn't release Alexis Sanchez for what was basically a kick-around in a park, even though Barcelona's Arturo Vidal and his mohican haircut made it.
None of that dampened anyone's enjoyment, especially Pete and Elena who spent the match eating hot dogs, nachos, and popcorn while screaming "Chi Chi Chi Le Le Le!" at the tops of their lungs. "Thank you, you've made a Chilean out of my daughter!" Elena's mum told me. What I've made of my American-born British boy who now claims he's Chilean while his father tells him he's Welsh is another matter...
Chileans together!
Time for the anthems. The Chilean one is about twice the length of the Star Spangled Banner - an early power move!
Rowdy supporters.
A rare attack.
When the game gets boring, the supporters amuse themselves.
Tonight we are all Chileans. Or maybe Americans. Or just a healthy mix.
