The journey to Estadio Ciudad de México—famously known as the Azteca—on Thursday underscored the contrast between Mexico’s celebratory spirit and emerging civic unrest as the World Cup opened.
With volunteers guiding the crowd and steel barriers directing the flow, the fortunate ticket holders to Mexico’s opener against South Africa chanted, waved the tricolor flag, and shared beers on the streets. Traditional banda music filled the air, creating a festive atmosphere.
Opposite the cheers, a smaller protest had gathered closer to the stadium’s fence. The demonstrators, many of whom are teachers following a recent labor agreement with President Claudia Sheinbaum, clashed with police, throwing debris at riot units that shielded themselves behind their shields.
Critics have argued that Mexico’s involvement in the tournament is marginal, with most matches, including the final, slated for the United States. Fans outside the stadium remarked that the country’s share seemed “a little bit” of a token participation.
“Previous editions felt like a national celebration,” the fan continued. “This time it’s just a fraction.”
Contrasting past iconic tournaments—most notably the 1986 and 1970 editions featuring Maradona and Pelé—this World Cup has occasionally felt like a footnote for Mexico, compounded by steep ticket prices. A beer at the Azteca cost roughly 280 pesos (about $17), while tickets for matches rose into the thousands.
In the minutes leading to the kickoff, the stadium’s gates opened at 9 am, and fans streamed through turnstiles as the Azteca—renovated to resemble a football cathedral—glowed under a fresh coat of paint.
“It surprised me when we boarded the bus that the crowds outside were so enthusiastic,” midfielder Érik Lira said after Mexico’s 2-0 win. “Growing up here, seeing banners like ‘Mexico united’ or ‘We love Mexico’ was heart‑warming.”
Inside, the scene was vibrant. FIFA added theatrical elements—costumes, smoke, and a gigantic “FIFA” sign that exploded overhead. Though some felt the display was excessive, the local culture was woven in well enough to resonate with the audience.
Mexico’s supporters are known for their passionate support, which could quickly turn hostile if the game faltered. South Africa, a consistently underwhelming team this tournament, offered little resistance, allowing Mexico to secure a quick lead within ten minutes. The Azteca erupted with cheers, and Coach Javier Aguirre celebrated alongside his staff and players. The energy recalled Aguirre’s own 1986 opener against Belgium.
The crowd’s roar framed that moment, but it also presented a daunting challenge for South Africa, which faced jeers throughout the match.
“The scene is brutal,” Aguirre said after the match. “If you’re an opponent, you feel it in your bones. You arrive at the stadium and the intensity is overwhelming.”
Even with a 2-0 advantage, Mexican fans occasionally whistled at their own team as they slowed play to regain control. The tension was palpable, yet the players maintained pressure until the final whistle.
“It should have been 4-0,” Aguirre joked, acknowledging the crowd’s right to criticize. “But they gave us a much more potent reminder of their passion.”
After the last whistle, fans erupted in a collective rendition of “Cielito Lindo,” a moment of unity that echoed beyond the pitch. As supporters streamed out into the streets, the immediate firestorm between protesters and police cooled, though Mexico’s broader social and economic challenges remain unresolved. For those inside the Azteca, the day offered a brief solace amid the turmoil.