Con esto les respondo ( este articulo salio en un peridico de USA antes del juego vs costa rica )
Soccer
Surviving in a house of horrors
Opponents face nightmares at Saprissa
By Mark Zeigler
Union-Tribune Staff Writer
2:00 a.m. June 3, 2009
Soccer fans at Estadio Ricardo Saprissa in Costa Rica take no prisoners when hounding opponents. The U.S. visits tonight. (Mayela Lopez / Getty Images) -
From time to time you'll see these lists of venues with the greatest home-field advantage in sports. Some people say it is Louisiana State's Tiger Stadium. Some say Duke's Cameron Indoor Stadium. Some say the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wis.
The real answer: None of the above.
They haven't been to Estadio Ricardo Saprissa in San Jose, Costa Rica. I have. I know.
The U.S. men's national soccer team makes its quadrennial visit to Saprissa tonight for a World Cup qualifier against Costa Rica (7 p.m., on ESPN, Galavision). Several players on the U.S. roster have never been there, but they no doubt have heard about it from the veterans, in hushed tones, through pursed lips, like ghost stories told 'round the camp fire.
The wall of noise. The heated coins. The batteries. The bags of urine. The sloped field that shakes when fans jump in the terraces. The funky artificial turf. The tropical heat. The torrential downpours. The locker room with cement benches, a single dripping shower and a toilet stall with no door. The phantom referee calls.
The volcano rumbling in the distance.
San Diego State alum Eric Wynalda, who made 106 appearances for the U.S. national team and countless more for clubs in some of the most foreboding stadiums in Europe, was asked if Saprissa is the most intimidating, most inhospitable, most inhumane venue he had ever experienced.
“Hands down,” Wynalda said in a text message. “1,000 percent yes.”
I have attended two games at Estadio Saprissa, both World Cup qualifiers, both U.S. losses, both like nothing I have witnessed in two decades covering sports in dozens of countries across five continents. My most vivid memory: Wynalda, collecting the coins thrown at him and neatly stacking them on the cement benches of the locker room. There was stack after stack, and that was from warmups.
Mexico City's Estadio Azteca is a tough place to play, certainly, with the toxic cocktail of heat, smog and altitude, but the 110,000 fans are relatively far from the field – or at least far enough that you don't have to worry about whether the yellow liquid spilling from heavens is beer or something less potable. At Estadio Saprissa, the stands rise steeply and are just yards from the sideline. Meaning: All 23,112 fans (or however many are crammed in there) are within range.
It opened in 1972 as a home for Costa Rican club CD Saprissa, but the national team did not regularly play there until more recently. And it's no coincidence that a Central American nation slightly smaller than West Virginia with a population (4.2 million) slightly larger than San Diego County began an improbable run of World Cup qualifications.
The Ticos have reached three of the last six World Cups, including the past two, with rosters that you would hardly classify as overpowering. In their past eight qualifiers at Saprissa, they are 8-0 by a combined 21-0.
The United States? It is 0-6 all-time in qualifiers at Saprissa and has been outscored 13-4.
“It's loud, there's the (artificial) turf, and they are very comfortable there,” U.S. coach Bob Bradley was saying last week. “They have great confidence there. Certainly we are aware that we have never won there.”
The first time I went, in 1996, defender Alexi Lalas was hit on the side of the head with an AA battery. He regained his senses just in time to be plunked on the bridge of the nose by a 10-colones coin, which is wider and thicker than a U.S. quarter, and which most likely was heated by cigarette lighters fans smuggle into the stadium.
Paul Caligiuri emerged from the tunnel underneath the rowdy south end zone and felt something warm on his back. He'd been sprayed by Mace.
Hanging from the second deck were two banners, one making reference to Cobi Jones and the other to the sexual preferences of Wynalda's wife, both in perfect English, neither repeatable in a family newspaper.
It is alarming to receive such treatment under any conditions but particularly jarring after interacting with the Costa Ricans, among the nicest, warmest people on the planet. This is a country, after all, that constitutionally abolished its army.
“It's definitely the most peaceful and educated country in Central America,” David Quesada, who played at SDSU and then professionally in Costa Rica, once told me. “But when it comes to soccer, we're talking about something more important than politics. If the president gets elected yesterday, people are like, 'Cool. When's the next game?' ”
The turf is awful, the rain relentless, the crowd thunderous, the locker room disgusting. And you never know when the volcano might blow.
“Once you get down here, you realize how important home-field advantage is to these countries,” U.S. forward Joe-Max Moore said after that 1996 qualifier at Saprissa, a 2-1 loss. “You go to take a corner kick and you hope nothing hits you in the back of the head.
“But that's why I love to play soccer. You live to play in atmospheres like this.”
Mae creo que mi choza vale más que eso
