Derby Day: It's What We Live For

There’s a simultaneous clash of utter elation and crushing despair in the Jalisco stands. Those clad in red and white bounce about their seats, bodies coming together in embraces, high fives and kisses.
 
The ones wearing yellow and blue hold back their bitterness, shaking their heads, muttering “not again.”
 
Not again.
 
Colo-Colo has risen from the ashes. Even after Universidad cuts the deficit to one after a Juan Manuel Olivera goal, Colo-Colo does not relent, and Luis Pedro Figueroa streaks through the U’s defense to put an exclamation mark on El Cacique’s performance.
 
The Universidad response is tepid. Lunging towards a goal that would put the pressure back on, they lose the ball several times and look more in danger of giving up a fourth than scoring a second.
 
It is done.
 
The clashing titans in La Bombonera see-saw for the remainder of the game to no avail. A Boca shot here, a River run there. Reporters begin writing their drafts for articles and crafting their questions for post-game interviews.
 
Both sets of fans chant and push their teams on, but there’s a growing sense of a stalemate being in the works.
 
América and Universidad push on desperately. Colo-Colo and Guadalajara cruise. River Plate and Boca Juniors fight tooth and nail. A continent looks on.
 
The referee checks his watch, and asks for the ball. There is no more time. The games are over.
 
There is sadness, relief, anger, happiness, disappointment, joy and a million more emotions associated with the same game, only heightened.
 
This is derby day. This is what we live for.

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