I grew up on SEC football, where an Alabama fan treats a fall Saturday like a holy day, and booing the other team is pretty much a reflex. So I figured I already knew what to expect in a sports stadium. Then I went to a Benfica match in Lisbon, Portugal and realized I had no clue.
The first thing that caught my attention was the whistling. A call went against Benfica, and the whole stadium let out this sharp, deafening whistle all at once. For a second, I thought the crowd was excited about something. But using my limited soccer knowledge, I knew they had reason to be upset, and that was when I realized whistling is how you boo. I wanted to join in so badly, but I cannot whistle to save my life, so I just threw up my hands in a shrug and put on an angry face while everyone around me let the referee have it.
What surprised me more was how in sync the crowd was. These were not random bursts of noise like I am used to back home. Everyone knew the same chants and sang them together, with a chant leader and everything. We also got to witness fireworks go off in the stands, courtesy of a superfan group called the No Name Boys. The energy was electric, and what made it even better was ending up on the Jumbotron not once but twice, showing off my newly purchased Benfica scarf and posing like a longtime fan.
The trip ended in Porto, where we walked straight into FC Porto’s victory parade by accident. This was their 31st league title, in a league of 18 teams, and the entire city still came out louder than I have ever seen anyone celebrate an SEC championship in what is supposed to be the most prideful conference in the country. I even heard English speakers who had clearly traveled just for it. That was the moment it hit me that this kind of pride runs through all of Portugal, not just one club.