The following English translation was generated with the assistance of artificial intelligence and has been reviewed and edited by our team for accuracy and clarity.
[Archival audio]: There’s Maradona, two men mark him, Maradona feints past the ball. He takes off down the right, the genius of world soccer…
[Silvia Viñas]: 1986, the Mexico World Cup. Argentina and England are playing the quarterfinals.
[Archival audio]: GOOOOOOOAL, GOOOOOOOAL, GOOOOOOOAL….
[Silvia Viñas]: Diego Maradona scored one of the most incredible goals in the history of soccer. Starting from midfield, he advanced with the ball unstoppable, dodging five English players –including the goalkeeper.
[Archival audio]: Barrilete Cósmico, what planet did you come from?
[Silvia Viñas]: It went down in history as «the goal of the century» and was a historic moment for Argentines for several reasons:Because of the result, since Argentina won that match 2-1, with goals from Maradona, and advanced to the semifinals; but also because it was the first match between the two countries after the Falklands/Malvinas War, a conflict that lasted 74 days and killed 649 Argentines and 255 British soldiers. That’s why the match carried extra emotional weight, on and off the field.
[Gustavo Grabia]: For all soccer fans, what stays with us is what Maradona did in that match. But at the same time, in the world of barras, what remains is what the national team’s barra did, led by Boca’s barra.
[Silvia Viñas]: This is Gustavo Grabia, the journalist specializing in barras bravas who we heard in the previous episode. That «official» barra of the Argentine national team was a kind of delegation, which had the blessing of the national team’s coach, Carlos Salvador Bilardo. And, according to what was said at the time, it even had the approval of the Argentine Football Association. It was made up of members from the country’s most important barras. But someone had to lead that group, and the one chosen was the boss of the most powerful barra of that moment, La 12, Boca’s barra. That person was José Barritta, “El Abuelo.”
[Gustavo Grabia]: The rest of the Argentine barras had no choice but to fall in line under El Abuelo’s natural authority if they also wanted to have the perks that came with being part of the national team’s barra—I mean, going to Mexico, getting into the stadium, and so on.
[Silvia Viñas]: There are photos from that World Cup where you can see El Abuelo with other members of the barra. He’s carrying a trumpet, which later, in the matches, he’s seen playing to cheer on the team. And there’s a key moment that cements this barra from the ’86 World Cup, led by El Abuelo, as the great Argentine barra. It happened before that match against England.
On one side was the Argentine barra, and on the English side, the hooligans, who the year before had caused the deaths of almost 40 people at a European Cup final. The Argentine barra members felt that, just like the players on the field, they too could have their own revenge for the Falklands/Malvinas. So, before the match, they set up an ambush in the streets of Mexico City.
[Gustavo Grabia]: Together with 50 barra members from Scotland’s Celtic club, who everyone knows have bad blood with the English, they do some intelligence work to find out which way they’re going to head to the stadium, they surround them, they beat them to a pulp, and they steal their banners.
[Silvia Viñas]: Whether they’re barras bravas or hooligans, banners are always sacred, and having them stolen is one of the worst offenses. The barra kept those banners and displayed them like a trophy. They burned one at the start of the match, in front of the television cameras.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And when they get back here to Argentina, they show them off at La Bombonera, and during a match they set the banners on fire. It all sounds crazy, but that’s what happened.
[Silvia Viñas]: That clash from the ’86 World Cup went down in history as a victory on multiple levels.
[Gustavo Grabia]: It was a vindication of Argentine national pride, which was kind of silly because in reality we lost the war and the Falklands/Malvinas unfortunately are still theirs. But well, symbolically, that empowered El Abuelo to a degree that few people could understand. El Abuelo became a mythical figure from that point on, for all of Argentine society.
[Silvia Viñas]: But to understand how El Abuelo and Boca’s barra brava, La 12, reached such a level of power, it’s not enough to remember their starring role in the ’86 World Cup, which Argentina would go on to win. We have to go back a bit further. In this episode we’re going to trace the path that takes us from La 12’s origins to its most infamous moment: the superclásico double murder in 1994. We’re going to understand how it built its influence and how El Abuelo burst onto the scene to seize power and take business dealings and violence in Argentine soccer to levels never seen before.
From Central Series and Radio Ambulante Studios, I’m Silvia Viñas and this is «Superclásico 94.»
Episode 3: The Owner of the Paravalancha.
[Silvia Viñas]: In Argentina there are as many barras bravas as there are soccer teams. And each one has a name that relates, in one way or another, to the club it supports. But no barra has a name as revealing as the one that roots for Boca Juniors.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The fact that Boca’s barra is called «player number 12» is something very symbolic. They’re not «The Drunks from the Plank,» like River. «The Drunks from the Plank» is derogatory. “La Butteler” is the name of a street, it has no specific connection to the San Lorenzo club. “La José C. Paz”, Huracán’s barra, is a plaza. «Player number 12» means: «we are part of the squad.»
[Silvia Viñas]: Legend has it that the name «La 12» came about in 1925. That year Boca made its first international tour. And during that trip through Europe, which lasted five months, there was a fan who paid all his own expenses to accompany the team. He acted like an assistant to the players: he’d bring them water, give them massages, even suggest tactics. And since he was probably the only one in the stands rooting for the club, they nicknamed him «player number 12.»
Mariano Pagella continues the story.
[Mariano Pagella]: As we already mentioned in the previous episode, the barra brava phenomenon slowly took shape over the decades. And in the ’60s the first strong leadership figure of a barra came along: Enrique Ocampo, better known as Quique “El Carnicero» [Quique “the Butcher»].
[Gustavo Grabia]: Look, Ocampo’s La 12 was like a proto-barra brava, more of a neighborhood organization that squeezed a few perks out of the club and not much more.
[Mariano Pagella]: Quique Ocampo owned a butcher shop a few blocks from La Bombonera, Boca’s stadium. Many players shopped there, and also, during matches, Quique sold sandwiches in the stands. This way, little by little, he became well known. Toward the late ’50s he started organizing gatherings with fans, and by the mid-’60s, he had established himself as the leader in the stands and turned La 12 into the absolute point of reference among Argentine barras.
[Gustavo Grabia]: He’s the first boss who sees a business opportunity in Boca’s barra brava, and he manages to get free tickets to the matches; he manages to get a monthly lunch with the whole squad where they didn’t just talk soccer, but the players had to contribute money to the barra…
[Mariano Pagella]: In other words, they were like almost-forced donations.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The first one to see that business opportunity is Quique Ocampo.
[Mariano Pagella]: Around that time, one of the distinctive ingredients of Argentine barras appears: the relationship with club leadership. Boca’s president at the time knew he needed to win over the fan base, so he decided to make deals with Quique: giving him free tickets and letting him meet with the players.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The club also paid for the barra to be able to travel both to Copa Libertadores and to local matches.
[Mariano Pagella]: Where Boca faced teams like Alianza Lima of Peru, or Cruzeiro of Brazil. Later, in 1977, Boca paid the travel expenses for Quique to go watch the team win the Intercontinental Cup final in Germany. He can even be seen in a photo carrying that trophy alongside the coach and the club’s president. That’s how much his power had grown. But then, a new figure burst onto the scene of Argentine barras, someone we mentioned at the start of this episode: El Abuelo.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The million-dollar question everyone asks is, how is a figure like El Abuelo made, right? I think his fate was already sealed, because his last name was Barritta. His name was José Barritta.
[Mariano Pagella]: Barritta was born in 1953 in Catanzaro, in southern Italy. When he was very young his family emigrated to Argentina. They were working class. They arrived in La Boca, but when José was six they moved to another town, an hour and a half away. There they opened a small grocery store that became their main source of income. It didn’t make them much of a profit, but it was enough to get by.
[Gustavo Grabia]: Barritta, like I think the vast majority of Argentine kids, dreamed of being a soccer player. Barritta’s dream wasn’t to lead a barra, Barritta’s dream was to be the one the barra was cheering for.
[Mariano Pagella]: At 14 he started trying out as a player at some clubs, but that meant having to travel every day to training sessions. And his family didn’t have the money to pay for this.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And he has to give up the possibility of being a soccer player. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to study, so his father sent him to work at a sawmill.
[Mariano Pagella]: Around that time, the first half of the ’70s, Boca’s popularity had grown far beyond the boundaries of the neighborhood. And groups of barra members from other Buenos Aires neighborhoods had started joining La 12. At the sawmill where he started working, Barritta made new friends who turned out to be part of the barra. And this is where Barritta took the first step of what would become his unstoppable rise: he brought together these barra buddies from the sawmill with barra members from other parts of the city, and with several childhood friends who were from the La Boca neighborhood.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And with that group he starts going to Boca’s stadium, and around 1975 he makes his way into the second tier, which is where Boca’s barra stands.
[Mariano Pagella]: At 22, José Barritta enters the stands at La Bombonera where La 12 always stands. Since he already had some gray hair despite being so young, they gave him the nickname he’ll go down in history with: «El Abuelo» [«The Grandfather»].
We’ll take a break, and when we come back: El Abuelo’s rise to power.
[Mariano Pagella]: There’s something we need to keep in mind before we go on: to lead a barra brava in Argentina, you have to be someone very special.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The bosses of the barras, all of them, but especially Boca’s, since it’s by far the biggest barra in the country, have to be charismatic. There’s no such thing as a «low-profile» leader. If you run Boca’s barra, you have a very high profile. There’s no way around it.
[Mariano Pagella]: Charismatic, high-profile. That’s what José Barritta, El Abuelo, was like when, at 22, he started going to Boca’s stadium. And as we mentioned before, he went with his coworkers, childhood friends, and members of other Buenos Aires barras.
It was 1975. At the time, the leader of Boca’s barra, La 12, was Quique Ocampo, «El Carnicero.» Remember, he was the barra’s first strong leadership figure. Quique and his followers always went to the same spot in the stands. Around them were other ordinary fans, and everyone knew to keep their distance. But El Abuelo and his friends drew attention from the start.
[Gustavo Grabia]: While they don’t become front-line members or anything close to Quique el Carnicero’s inner circle, they position themselves off to the side. If you’re standing in Boca’s stands, looking toward the field, they are at the right of what would be the main paravalancha.
[Mariano Pagella]: «Paravalancha.» It’s an important word for this story. These are metal structures, shaped like a soccer goal but smaller. They’re placed throughout the stands to hold back the fans and prevent a crowd surge from forming when, for example, people celebrate a goal. Or at least, that’s the function they were designed for. Because the fans found another use for them: standing on top of them to cheer on the team. And there’s one paravalancha that’s special. The main one, in the center of the stands, represents the throne of the barra’s boss. Only he stands there, with his back to the field, directing his people.
[Gustavo Grabia]: A lot of people wonder why they don’t watch the matches and instead stand with their backs turned. The answer is very simple: because they’re always afraid of being betrayed. They always have to be facing their followers and their second-in-command, because they always have this paranoid idea that someone could come and stab them in the back, which is generally what happens in the barra world: attacks come by betrayal.
[Mariano Pagella]: So, we have a young José Barritta who entered Boca’s barra stands with an already solid group. They were off to the side of that main paravalancha, Quique el Carnicero’s throne, the leader of La 12. But El Abuelo had no intention of staying on the margins, and he knew very well how to get attention.
[Gustavo Grabia]: When scuffles with other clubs start breaking out, that group led by El Abuelo starts going to the front lines in those fights. So, if you go to the front in those fights, you win the affection, let’s say, of the leadership.
[Mariano Pagella]: Through sheer force and «going to the front,» El Abuelo’s image started to grow. In just a couple of years, he and his group earned the respect of the rest of the barra. And El Abuelo started to realize he could aim for more.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The difference is that José Barritta sees that there’s a business opportunity, and that, additionally, Quique kept all the power for the La Boca neighborhood and didn’t share it. And so José Barritta starts gaining ground by winning over the other groups.
[Mariano Pagella]: Remember that by this point—we’re talking about the late ’70s—Boca is already a massive club, one that transcends borders. Quique represented the old neighborhood club. El Abuelo understood that Boca was now much more than that. So he started talking to groups from other neighborhoods outside La Boca. And he promised them something: if he became boss, the profits would be split among everyone.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And so he starts adding a lot of groups from Boca’s barra brava, the one from San Martín, the one from Lomas de Zamora, the one from Banfield Temperley, the one from Flores in the capital. Well, the ones from the different neighborhoods, each of which had its own leaders, and he builds an army over the course of a year and a half…
[Mariano Pagella]: And so we arrive at 1981. El Abuelo was already very influential and had convinced his group and others that Quique el Carnicero had already run his course. So he went to confront him and demand that he split up the loot: the profits from the food stands inside the stadium and the «donations» from players and club officials to the barra. Businesses that Quique had invented and that by then already added up to a considerable sum of money.
[Gustavo Grabia]: Quique doesn’t see what’s coming. He refuses to hand over benefits to El Abuelo’s group. And so El Abuelo’s group gathers more people and organizes to seize control of the barra.
[Mariano Pagella]: Basically, they decided to take power by force. The chosen date was June 24, 1981. Boca had a devastating team, with Diego Maradona at the helm. They were leading the tournament, and they were set to play away in the city of Rosario against Newell’s, another strong team in Argentine soccer. Rosario is 300 kilometers from La Boca and from La Bombonera. In other words, far from Quique’s sphere of influence. The ideal spot. So before the match, hundreds of El Abuelo’s barra members got into an all-out brawl with Quique’s people. And the coup plotters won. When the match started, El Abuelo walked into Newell’s stadium as the new leader of La 12. But it was one thing to do it away, and another to do it at home.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The thing is, afterward you have to confirm that at home. Because if you don’t climb up onto the main paravalancha at your own stadium, in this case La Bombonera, you’re not the boss of any barra, no matter how much you climbed up as the visiting team.
[Mariano Pagella]: El Abuelo had to reach the throne: the main paravalancha at La Bombonera. And this had to happen the following week, when Boca played at home. But Quique still had strong connections and time to organize them.
[Gustavo Grabia]: Quique’s people try to make one last effort to hold onto the barra, working with the police and the club leadership, who, at that point, still believed Quique remained the best option.
[Mariano Pagella]: Quique was easier to control. So they came up with a plan with the police: on match day, when El Abuelo arrived in La Boca, they detained him and took him to the police station for «resisting authority.» Quique thought he’d won, but he’d forgotten one detail: out in the street there were still about 300 of El Abuelo’s «soldiers,» ready to attack.
[Gustavo Grabia]: A battle breaks out where they chase them for 10 minutes, eight blocks, and finally, Quique “El Carnicero’s” people are kicked out of the barra.
[Mariano Pagella]: In other words, El Abuelo won—just like in Rosario a week earlier—but this time at home. And in that clash, his followers no longer went in with just their fists. Some carried firearms. They forced Quique and his people to flee under gunfire. The police arrived at the scene to try to control the situation and found themselves facing hundreds of furious barra members unwilling to stand down unless their boss was released. And the police agreed.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And that day he walks into the stadium as the new leader of Boca’s barra brava, he stands on what is the main paravalancha…
[Mariano Pagella]: And so, in 1981, his reign began. El Abuelo’s power in the stands was secured. But very soon he would also have to prove that he could influence what happened on the field…
[Gustavo Grabia]: Because Boca, which had been comfortably in first place, starts tying matches.
[Mariano Pagella]: One, two, three, four matches in a row. It seemed like a curse.
[Gustavo Grabia]: So El Abuelo realizes something that could undermine his power, which is, «Hey, with Quique el Carnicero, Boca was in the lead and was going to become champion. And ever since I took over, the last four matches Boca has tied.»
[Mariano Pagella]: The situation reached a breaking point when the second ranking team got to be only one point away from Boca, who was in first position.
[Gustavo Grabia]: So El Abuelo says, «I’m going to slam my fist on the table,» and he goes to the team’s pre-match training camp before a key match they need to win.
[Mariano Pagella]: The team was in camp at La Candela, their training facility, preparing to play against Estudiantes de La Plata, and El Abuelo’s barra showed up.
[Archival audio, Oscar Ruggeri]: A terrible shakedown. There were a hundred of them. They surrounded La Candela entirely and came in…
[Mariano Pagella]: This is Oscar Ruggeri, a legendary Boca player from the time and future captain of the Argentine national team. And the audio is from an interview where he recalled what that moment was like, when they got a «visit» from El Abuelo’s barra.
[Archival audio, Oscar Ruggeri]: All armed. All with black guns, I’ll never forget it. So, they start coming in from every direction, pulling us out of our rooms.
[Mariano Pagella]: One player was talking to his wife on a public phone, one of those fixed to the wall. When one of the barra members came to get him, the player told him not to bother him, that he was on the phone. So the barra member yanked the phone out of his hand and ripped it off the wall.
[Archival audio, Oscar Ruggeri]: The phone went flying, like, into the middle of the courtyard. He said: «What phone? You’re on the phone? Come here.»
[Mariano Pagella]: One by one they gathered up all the players and took them to a large meeting room. The situation seemed serious.
[Archival audio, Oscar Ruggeri]: And the guns were going like this. They’d point them at you from down here, like that. Back and forth, back and forth. Everybody cornered like that, you know?
[Mariano Pagella]: Once everyone was in the room, El Abuelo started talking. He also had a gun in his hand.
[Archival audio, Oscar Ruggeri]: So, he says: «Look, today we’ve come to talk to you. We’re just telling you, we want to become champions. Tomorrow at six PM»—which was when the match would end—»we won’t be talking to you anymore. Play and win.»
[Mariano Pagella]: The «motivational» talk seems to have worked, because Boca won the match the next day. And, as it happens, the goal was scored by the very player who’d been on the phone when the barra came in. The team started racking up points and became champion of the 1981 Metropolitano tournament.
Let’s go back to Gustavo, the journalist we’ve been hearing from.
[Gustavo Grabia]: So El Abuelo isn’t just the new boss of Boca’s barra, he’s the new boss of Boca’s barra who helped them become champions, in the popular imagination, right? But that’s the moment when El Abuelo appears, for the whole soccer-following society, as the true new leader of Boca’s barra brava.
[Mariano Pagella]: And from that moment on, he started consolidating his power over a structure that, until then, hadn’t existed in Argentine barras bravas.
[Gustavo Grabia]: It’s, if you will, a mafia-like structure, because he starts having much stronger ties to politics. Much stronger ties to unions. Much stronger ties to the clubs.
[Mariano Pagella]: He organized the different factions of Boca’s barra from other neighborhoods. He appointed a representative in each of those groups and kept his promise to split the profits among them. But this meant they had to expand how the business brought in money.
[Gustavo Grabia]: So he says, «hey, look, there are vendors selling food inside the stadium, but also selling outside the stadium. So, you want to work in peace? You’re going to have to leave some money for the barra.» Under Barritta they start by charging whoever sold hats, flags, and headbands.
[Mariano Pagella]: In other words, they started extorting the vendors who made their living selling things around the stadium. And they invented new ways of bringing in money.
[Gustavo Grabia]: Paid street parking, with rates set by the barra, is a new business that Barritta creates.
[Mariano Pagella]: Little by little he started to «professionalize» the barra’s business dealings. They stopped being simply money collected inside the stadium and became an investment.
[Gustavo Grabia]: In fact, with the barra’s first profits, he buys taxis. The idea behind Boca’s barra was to eventually have a whole fleet of taxis to hand over to some of the barra members so they could work and support themselves with that money.
[Mariano Pagella]: So, through investing money, distributing it, demanding it, El Abuelo kept amassing his power. But to maintain that power and those businesses, one last ingredient was necessary: violence. If they wanted to be the strongest barra of all, they had to stamp out any threat, wherever it came from.
[Gustavo Grabia]: «Who’s on the rise? Quilmes’s barra,» he says, «well, we’re going to attack there.»
[Mariano Pagella]: Or Independiente’s barra? Because one of their fans was the president of the AFA, the Argentine Football Association?
[Gustavo Grabia]: «We’re going to attack Independiente’s barra and we’re going to make it clear that we’re the most powerful barra in the country.»
[Mariano Pagella]: As the years went by, La 12 established itself as the strongest and most feared barra in Argentina, and El Abuelo’s popularity also grew stronger nationwide.
[Gustavo Grabia]: José Barritta becomes a hugely important figure in Argentina. He becomes a kind of idol.
[Mariano Pagella]: That, combined with the fact that El Abuelo already had connections with Maradona, the national team’s captain, and with the coach, turned La 12 into the «leading» barra at the World Cups, especially because it brought the most fans. That’s how they traveled to the ’86 World Cup, where the battle against the hooligans took place, as we already mentioned at the start of the episode.
[Gustavo Grabia]: The thing about Boca’s barra under El Abuelo’s reign is that that violence has to keep being topped with more and more violence.
[Mariano Pagella]: Because they also traveled to the ’90 World Cup, in Italy, where there was a new battle. But this time it wasn’t against another country, like in the previous World Cup. This time, the clash was with another Argentine barra, Independiente’s.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And with Independiente’s barra a particular situation arose, because Independiente’s barra had brought a lot of people.
[Mariano Pagella]: And with all those people, the boss of Independiente’s barra, a man nicknamed «el Gallego» Popey, decided to set himself up in the center of the stands during Argentina’s first match in Italy. It was a clear challenge to La 12’s leadership. And well, El Abuelo wasn’t happy. So, true to his style, he decided to settle it all in the streets of Rome.
[Gustavo Grabia]: And el Gallego Popey, who was the boss of Independiente’s barra, knocks El Abuelo out cold with one punch. Knocks him to the ground, out cold.
[Mariano Pagella]: Even though they’d knocked out El Abuelo, La 12 had three times as many barra members as Independiente. So it held onto its leadership throughout the whole World Cup. But this clash didn’t end there. It’s a moment that marked a fierce rivalry between the two barras, a rivalry that would keep growing over the following years. And it would reach its peak in early February 1994, almost three months before the superclásico this series began with, in an event that went down in history as the Battle of Desaguadero. And it’s important because, even though La 12 already had firearms, this battle was the one that—so to speak—»made official» their use among Argentine barras bravas.
One last break, and we’re back.
[Gabriel Canay]: I started getting involved with the barra around 16, almost 17 years old.
[Mariano Pagella]: This is Gabriel Canay. He started going to the stadium to watch Independiente at age 5, with his uncles and cousins. By the early ’90s he was already part of the barra led by el Gallego Popey.
[Gabriel Canay]: The fights in the ’90s were mostly already planned. When we played at home we’d say, «okay, let’s wait at the bridge or at the station,» that was already worked out ahead of time. El Gallego was a mastermind at setting up ambushes, all of it.
[Mariano Pagella]: One of the main barras they were feuding with was La 12. They’d had a few run-ins after the ’90 World Cup, but nothing too serious. Until a friendly tournament, in early ’93, in the coastal city of Mar del Plata. Independiente had just finished playing a match and the barra left the stadium. They were walking toward the buses, which were about ten blocks away.
[Gabriel Canay]: And we were walking with the flags in our hands, like every barra does with the drums. And suddenly ten of them appeared out of nowhere, I don’t know where they were hiding. They started firing a few shots at us and we didn’t have anything.
[Mariano Pagella]: These guys who «appeared out of nowhere» were Boca’s barra members. Independiente’s barra was prepared for a clash with fists or sticks, as was usual. But not for an attack with firearms.
[Gabriel Canay]: They came out at us like that, by surprise, they fired a few shots that made us retreat. And well, afterward we said, «okay, if these guys want to fight us, want to shoot, we’re going to shoot back too, just like they do.»
[Mariano Pagella]: And that’s how we get to the Battle of Desaguadero. Desaguadero is a very small town on the border between the provinces of San Luis and Mendoza, in west-central Argentina. On the main highway, the crossing from one province to the other is marked by an arch-shaped monument: the Desaguadero Arch.
On February 5, ’94, Boca and Independiente were going to play another friendly match in Mendoza. And to get there, both barras had to pass through there, through the arch, where the police had set up a checkpoint operation. The goal was to prevent the two barras from crossing paths—they already had a reputation for violence—so it had been arranged for one to arrive several hours before the other.
[Gabriel Canay]: That day I remember we arrived first. We were in two of those long-distance buses that fit 50, 60 people each. And well, they stopped us to do the usual Mendoza police routine to check the buses, to check the passenger list. And the minutes, the hours went by while they held us there, and they get word to hurry up with us, that La 12 was already on its way. So the head of the operation comes over and tells us, «okay, guys, that’s it, get on the buses because La 12 is arriving.» So we said, «well, this is our chance.»
[Mariano Pagella]: Desaguadero wasn’t just the chance for revenge for what had happened a year earlier at the summer match, when Boca’s barra members appeared out of nowhere with guns. It was the chance to settle scores still pending from that fight in the streets of Rome, at the ’90 World Cup. So the decision was to stay put and wait for La 12.
[Gabriel Canay]: We stalled for time, like saying, «well, some of the guys are in the bathroom, some of the guys are eating, they went to buy something.» We managed to stall for time, and what happened? They arrived.
[Mariano Pagella]: Boca’s barra arrived in several cars and three buses. There were about 100 fans, so the numbers on each side were fairly evenly matched. The police stopped them before they crossed the arch. El Abuelo got out of one of the cars along with his main lieutenants. Meanwhile, on the other side, Independiente’s barra had already gotten out onto the road. Picture the scene: on one side of the arch, Independiente’s people; on the other, Boca’s. And in between, the few police officers.
[Gabriel Canay]: And insults were being exchanged. Us with Boca’s people, them with us, and so on, and well, until…
[Mariano Pagella]: Until La 12 advanced decisively toward the Desaguadero Arch and they stood face to face.
[Gabriel Canay]: And that’s when the argument got more heated until it turned into blows, a couple of punches, hand to hand. And well, they started throwing rocks from behind, throwing bottles that came from who knows where. We went, we squared off. We started, you know, hitting with sticks, throwing rocks, like every barra-against-barra battle.
[Mariano Pagella]: So, right there at the arch an all-out brawl broke loose. Nearly 200 barra members fought savagely, as if it were the last fight of their lives. The police were completely outnumbered.
[Gabriel Canay]: And suddenly shots were heard. «Well,» we said, «these guys started up again with the shooting, they can’t take anything.» I tell the guys, «let’s not sleep on this, we’re going to pay them back in kind,» right?
[Mariano Pagella]: Independiente’s people had already learned their lesson from last time. On the buses they had hidden several firearms, or as they’re often called: «fierros».
[Gabriel Canay]: Independiente’s guys were all ready and they brought out the pieces and started shooting. And that’s when everything started.
[Mariano Pagella]: A fierce shootout broke out between the two barras that lasted 20 minutes. Shots were coming from everywhere. The scene was absolute chaos: a witness said in a news report from that time that there were tourists of all ages, women and children. Boca’s barra wasn’t expecting this response and started pulling back toward their buses. The police took cover and urgently called for backup.
[Gabriel Canay]: The backup arrived and we had no choice but to get on the buses and keep heading toward the Mendoza stadium.
[Mariano Pagella]: Independiente’s barra left the scene. Partway down the highway they threw some of the weapons out the bus windows and hid others again.
[Gabriel Canay]: And well, what I remember is one of our guys was wounded in the leg by a gunshot. And afterward, what I was thinking, what I was afraid of, was that if someone had died we were going to be in deep trouble.
[Mariano Pagella]: Miraculously, despite the terrible shootout, there were no deaths. The result was fifteen wounded on Boca’s side and two on Independiente’s. And Independiente’s buses never made it to the stadium.
[Gabriel Canay]: We must have gone, I don’t know, 20, 30 kilometers, and they’d already closed off the highway. We all ended up at the police station, but they never put us down in the holding cells, because there were quite a lot of us, the bosteros and us. And besides, it would’ve been a massacre if they put us all in together. They called in backup from several police stations in Mendoza, they surrounded the whole station, and we stayed up on top of the buses, inside the parking area.
[Mariano Pagella]: La 12’s people had already been detained at the Desaguadero arch. There’s an iconic photo showing El Abuelo with his hands behind his back. It’s the moment a police officer leads him away in handcuffs.
[Gabriel Canay]: They gave each of us a paraffin test, to see who had fired, and well, until the results came back positive for the ones who had fired. And well, those guys they held, and they let the rest of us go.
[Mariano Pagella]: Eight of Boca’s barra members and four of Independiente’s remained detained after it was confirmed they had fired weapons. Months later they went to trial and were sentenced to two to four years in prison for serious injuries. El Abuelo was released the day after the battle because he hadn’t fired. But he took a big lesson away from that encounter. Gustavo, the journalist, tells us again.
[Gustavo Grabia]: When El Abuelo gets out of there, what Boca’s barra realizes is that they have to arm themselves at least at the same level Independiente’s barra was armed, because otherwise, in any confrontation, they could get killed.
[Mariano Pagella]: Up until that point, the use of firearms had been the exception. The most common thing in a clash between barras was bare-knuckle fighting or, at most, knives. But from that clash in Desaguadero on, firearms would take on a much bigger role. Several members of La 12’s leadership started getting hold of «pieces.»
[Gustavo Grabia]: And when you shoot, generally, barring a miracle like what happened at the Desaguadero arch, you end up killing someone. And that’s what ended up happening on that April 30, 1994.
[Mariano Pagella]: Three months after Desaguadero, the superclásico double murder happens, in which those two River fans, kids really, died: Ángel and Walter. As we can see, those killings didn’t come out of nowhere. There’s a whole path of violence that had been building for decades and that led directly to that day. A day we already got to know from the side of River’s fans, and now we’re going to get to know from the side of Boca’s barra. A day that, for some members of La 12, felt strange from the very start.
[Darío Vesseliza Randi]: «Head to the club, everybody separately. Don’t all go together in groups of 20, of 30 people.» That alone was something that broke from the norm.
[Mariano Pagella]: A former Boca barra member is going to tell us about the strange moves from that day, but also how he got into the barra and how he came to be very close to José Barritta, El Abuelo.
[Darío Vesseliza Randi]: It was a voice, and it was a way of talking and addressing you, where he didn’t need to get angry to command respect. He’d talk to you in a certain way and he’d already make it clear that, «this is how it is, this is what I’m telling you.» I shared more with José and with the barra than I ever got to share with my own family.
[Mariano Pagella]: And we’re also going to find out what that superclásico was like from that famous main paravalancha, through a journalist.
[Marcela Mora y Araujo]: On April 30, 1994, I spent the whole afternoon at La Bombonera with El Abuelo, before, during, and after the match played against River.
[Mariano Pagella]: All of this in the next episode of Superclásico 94.
[Silvia Viñas]: Superclásico 94 is a podcast from Central, Radio Ambulante Studios’ series channel, and is part of iHeartRadio’s My Cultura podcast network.
This series was produced by Mariano Pagella, Alejandro Marinelli, and Sergio Renna.
The editors were Pablo Argüelles, Daniel Alarcón, and me.
Fact-checking was by Ana Prieto.
Mariano did the sound design, with original music by Nicolás Pagella, who also composed the series’ theme song. Martín Cruz was in charge of sound mixing and mastering.
The series’ graphics and art direction are by Diego Corzo. Digital production was by Andrés Centeno with Óscar Luna.
Business and strategic partnerships were led by Camilo Jiménez Santofimio. And Julián Santos and Eric Spiegelman gave us legal support.
Carolina Guerrero is the CEO of Radio Ambulante Studios.
At iHeart, the executive producers are Arlene Santana and Leo Gomez.
Radio Ambulante Studios produces and mixes its podcasts on Hindenburg PRO.
You can follow us on social media as centralseriesRA and subscribe to our email newsletter at centralpodcast.audio.
I’m Silvia Viñas. Thanks for listening.