The other day I was taken aback, to say the least, when I was given a football shirt as a gift from a stranger on the streets of Barcelona.
I have an Argentina shirt which retains an essential spot in my single backpack of possessions. One of the occasional football shirts I spent my pocket money on when at school, I’ve worn it for over ten years (long before Messi became a god :) Its iconic, timeless appearance along with its sheer comfort makes it a firm favourite and meant that it survived the cull when I downed tools and went travelling.
Oddly enough, in Spain it also makes for some great banter from the Argentinian expats, arguably better than you would receive with a Spain shirt. This was as true in 2006 as it is now, and you can perhaps put this down to the strong regional identities found in Spain along with fierce club rivalries. Every day I wear the Argentina shirt, it’s a guarantee of a couple of good chats and many other shouts in the street. Of course, there is the Messi factor too, above all here in Barcelona.
This brings us up to the other day. I travelled to Palma de Mallorca by overnight ferry: a gratuitous trip, seeing as I would only spend a few hours there due to budget, but it meant I could see one of the Spanish islands, the much-vaunted cathedral, and travel on the sea which certainly appealed to the romantic in me. I encountered a higher-than-usual rate of Argentinian banter, from labourers at the port to truck drivers on the ferry itself. I took to explaining to people that my favourite player is Juan Román Riquelme, a genius of vision who could split entire teams open with a single pass almost at will. This is to challenge the assumption that I’m wearing the shirt because of Messi or Maradona, “the big two”. Slightly reminiscent of the way the lead character in the film Looking for Eric idolises Eric Cantona.
Fatigued from a night without sleep and two almost back-to-back eight-hour ferry rides (I know, poor me!) I somehow got sent the wrong way when trying to disembark in Barcelona. After tangling with the various decks of trucks and motos, I finally found my way out last of all the passengers. Immediately upon exiting the terminal, I heard the shout:
“Argentino! Hola tío, Argentino!” A young guy carrying a holdall.
“I’m not Argentinian, I’m from Scotland.”
“Ah, you’re from Scotland! But you speak really good Spanish.”
“Thanks a lot, well I’m trying to learn.”
“So why are you wearing this shirt?”
“I really like the football team. My favourite player is Riquelme.” I waited for the reaction, expecting something like “ah, but Messi is out of this world” or “Maradona was the best ever”. Instead, he said “Juan Román Riquelme? Wait a minute.” He began rummaging in his bag. My natural reaction was that he was going to sell me something or, I’m more ashamed to admit, was this a distraction technique for pickpockets? I’d heard about all the disarming tactics they supposedly use in Barcelona, it was dark, and I was lightly-dressed with a wallet and phone conspicuously bulging out of my shorts.
Moments later, he pulled out a Boca Juniors football shirt. He showed me the back, Riquelme’s name and number 10 proudly printed there. What a coincidence, I thought. This guy doesn’t have very much and he’s carrying this shirt!
“Un regalo para ti.” He wanted to give me it as a gift. I didn’t know what to say, other than stuttering “No, I can’t…” But he was persistent and I took the shirt. We chatted about Argentina, the economy (what else?), and how he was travelling back as his visa had expired. We shook hands and parted ways, firm friends Gianfranco and I after scarcely ten minutes.
Numerous studies have shown that, psychologically, people tend to create strong first impressions in around seven seconds or even less. It can be incredibly difficult to overcome that first impression, whether positive or negative. Apparently around eight positive experiences are required to overcome a bad start. We’d like to think that our interactions are based on logic, perhaps shared interests or heritage, and founded on open-mindedness. The human mind is normally just not wired for this.
I am also reminded of the idea of “minimal groups”. Simply by randomly assigning people to two meaningless groups (“A” and “B”, “Blue” and “Green”, etc.) one can instil a fundamental ingroup-outgroup bias. We see it all the time on gameshows, in pub quizzes, and the like, while loyalties are just as easily switched.
Despite having connections to Argentina and football which are tenuous at best (I want to go there some day, I’m learning Castilian, and like most men enjoy a bit of international football), wearing the shirt endears me to part of society and has resulted in some of my most memorable experiences and random conversations while travelling. I would suggest to people simply leverage this. Particularly while travelling, first impressions are everything and you will often make friendships which only last a day, hours, or minutes. Pick an icon to gain attention, then once you have it you can switch things around and learn about the people who give you their time.
I liked the serendipity of the Riquelme incident. Of course, being the logical and unemotional person that I am, I encouraged friends and family to buy lottery tickets that night on my behalf. I don’t think they did but I’m suspicious of the ones who have gone quiet…
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