It was a sunny, but cold Sunday afternoon and we found ourselves among the faithful at the legendary cathedral known as “La Bombonera.” We sat among 80,000 believers who raised their hands up to the heavens and, some with eyes closed, sang songs imploring salvation. They danced, chanted and screamed in delight when the team of high priests marched into view wearing their blue and gold vestments. It looked for all the world like some Pentecostal super church, but it wasn't a church at all. La Bombonera is a legendary soccer stadium and these worshippers are fans of the Boca Juniors soccer club, the most popular in all of Argentina. Today’s sermon? Good vs. evil. Specifically, it was Boca Juniors vs. Argentinos Juniors. The home team, Boca, won 1-0 and it was freaking insane.

The comparison of soccer to religion in Argentina is apt. Religions function to bring social order, to define one’s place, to intensify solidarity in emotionally moving ways. Here, soccer is no different and is infinitely more effective. Religions have their mythologies -- stories of inspiration told by believers to explain their history and identity. Christianity speaks of the Christmas virgin birth and the Easter story of Christ arising from death. Buddhism speaks of the Jataka tales -- stories of the Buddha’s many lives before his human birth. In Argentina, they retell the story of the 1986 World Cup quarterfinal against England, where Diego Maradona (who also played for Boca) scored what has become known as the “hand of God” goal. Argentina's resulting victory was no less miraculous than a virgin birth and it is, to some, more significant.

Our journey into the holy land began at 2 in the afternoon when the company that organized our tickets picked us up at the hostel where we’re staying. A half hour later e climbed the cold cement step of La Bombonera. The stadium itself is nothing like the luxury found in Invesco Field --no molded seats with cup holders here. Numbers marking your row and seat are nonexistent. Absent, too, are the electronic scoreboards that keep time, tell the score and give a plethora of meaningless statistics and other useless information. The faithful here don’t need these things here; they have their beloved team and that is all they need.

We each received a packet of clips of paper about 2x2 inches in dimension. When the team took to the field, 80,000 fans threw these millions of slips of paper into the air creating a snow-like wonderland. They sang at the top of their lungs a song that began, “Boca, mi buen amigo...” The singing was nonstop throughout the match and at times they added a bouncing dance much like a huge, stadium sized mosh pit. Our season tickets to the Colorado Rapids, as much as we love them, are forever banished to disappointment after this raucous experience. Do not come to Argentina without going to a premiere league soccer game. It doesn’t matter if you enjoy soccer or not. There are so very few moments in life when you are completely one in solidarity with your fellow man. Tragedy brings that sense of brotherhood to tight fruition. Nothing, however, brings that feeling like 80,000 maniacs hugging you while in the euphoria of victory handed to them by God himself.

Tomorrow is our second full day in Buenos Aires and well be visiting the cemetary of the rich and famous. This includes the infamous Evita Perron. The cemetary is as legendary for its fanciful tombs as La Bombonera is for its crazy fans.