The first game and a half of the Buenos Aires Super-Clasico in the Copa Libertadores had proved something of a disappointment. In the first leg, River Plate beat Boca Juniors by a single goal -- a late penalty -- in a spiteful game.
In the return match on Thursday, in Boca's stadium, River had held out very comfortably for the first 45 minutes. Boca had been clear favourites going into the tie. Up to that point, though, they had not produced. Could they turn things round in the remaining 45 minutes? What could they throw at River in the second half?
We will never know. As River's players made their way through the inflatable tunnel they had a reportedly home-made substance with pepper and acid hurled at them, leaving four of the team with streaming eyes and burns on their bodies. The match was suspended.
After days of waiting, the punishment was finally announced on Saturday night by the disciplinary tribunal of CONMEBOL, the continental federation. Boca have been eliminated from this year's Copa Libertadores, though they have not been banned for any future versions of the competition, as had been speculated. They will play the next four matches home matches of a continental competition behind closed doors, and will not be able to have fans at the next four away games. They have also been fined the sum of $200,000.
This has struck many as being extremely lenient. More important than any punishment, however, is the need to change the environment that makes this type of incident possible. This, in turn, requires an honest assessment of the problems.
The inflatable tunnel appears before and after the game, and also at half time, with the aim of protecting the players as they move between the pitch and the dressing room. On this occasion it offered no protection. A group of Boca fans first managed to cut through the fence separating them from the pitch, and then slice through the tunnel.
But the mere existence of, and necessity for this tunnel is in itself an admission of defeat. It is a confession by the authorities that they are unable to prevent fans from throwing objects at the players -- rather like the situation which prevails in some part of the continent where visiting players are protected by police with riot shields when they take a corner, a confession which in practice serves as an encouragement for some fans to throw bottles and cigarette lighters.
A climate of disorder is thus permitted. Firstly, because the stadium architecture does not facilitate the swift identification and apprehension of the wrongdoer.
Secondly, a much wider point, because the relevant institutions are either too weak or unwilling to punish certain wrongdoers. This, of course, goes well beyond the sphere of the football authorities.
Argentina's organised groups of supporters, the barras bravas, began many decades ago (the 1930s in some cases). The idea of the club as a representative of its neighbourhood is a strong concept in Argentina. Over time, though, the concept of the group of super-fans has mutated into something much more sinister -- a rent-a-mob, useful not only in the internal politics of the club, but also for hire in the formal political process.
Sergio Levinsky, a leading Argentine journalist (and sociologist) participated for some time in a NGO aimed at cleaning up football in the country. "But I came to the conclusion that it was impossible to keep going," he says.
"I got tired of working without finding any solutions. In Argentina there is no political will to find a solution. Today, to be a politician in Argentina, you need a barra bravas, an ultra-violent gang, to carry out services. Without that you don't get into power. So the politicians don't fight against the barra bravas. There's no solution."
Journalist Gustavo Grabia is a specialist on the subject, and wrote a book on La Doce (The number 12), Boca's most prominent organised group.
"La Doce is split into three lines," he says. "The first is the leaders and their assistants. There are about 20 of them and they live from their group activities -- touting tickets, extortion of street sellers and parking, selling products, organising travel for the fans and doing work for political parties.
"The second line, of about 100, are the most violent ones. Then there is the third line, of a few thousand, the mass. As there is no formal structure, those who rise are the strongest, or have contacts in the club, the police or with politicians."
As his account makes clear, disorder and profiteering go hand in hand. One creates the climate for the other.
"In Argentina the State is weak," he says, "and leaves power vacuums. La Doce take advantage of this and occupy those vacuums."
This climate of disorder has now, in front of a worldwide audience, sullied what should be one of the great spectacles of South American football.