Aix and Beyond: Marseille vs. Paris Saint-Germain: A Night at the Velodrome

Marseille and Paris. France's two largest cities. Economic rivals, cultural adversaries, historic combatants. The French capital and the country's largest port city have been feuding for years to to claim the title of France's most important city. The rivalry pits Parisian glitz and glamor versus Marseillais grunge and grime. Paris houses the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower and the other haute cultural attractions for sock-and-sandal American tourists and Disneyland-shirt-wearing Japanese amateur photographers. Marseille, on the other hand, is a people's city. What it lacks in polished monuments and lavish boulevards, it makes up for with working-class charm and - a sometimes in your face - cultural mix that brings together a plethora of North African identities alongside Roman and Catalunyan influences, as well as a classic Mediterranean feel.

The antagonism between the two cities affects more than just cultural and economic relations - it also greatly informs what has become the largest rivalry in French football. While mediocrity has plagued Paris Saint-Germain in recent seasons, the matches between the two teams remain heated contests. Both sets of supporters are fanatical - the white and baby blue of Olympique Marseille is ubiquitous as you walk the streets of the provencal capital, while the Rouge and Bleu of PSG reflect their inherent belief that they represent the spirit of the French Tricolor.

Spurred by this fanaticism, the French Football Association has barred visiting supporters from attending the matches in Paris and Marseille. In the last couple of years scandal has erupted during these national derbies as Parisian and Marseillais fans have clashed causing countless injuries and even a few deaths. Thus, on March 21st I was a little nervous heading to the imposing Stade Vélodrome to watch the game between the two teams.

I am an ardent PSG fan, which is a dangerous business while studying in the South of France. However, for the night I decided to swallow my pride and do my best to at the very least act neutral as I watched the match - not any easy task as my gut reaction is jump for joy when PSG scores, or scream some obscenity when they go behind.

Kickoff was late 21:00 - or 9 p.m. - and I wanted to see the two teams warm up and soak up as much of the atmosphere as possible. I caught the bus from Aix to Marseille at about 6:30 and then hopped on the Metro to the Sainte Marguerite Dromel stop - the end of the line. The Metro leaves it's subterranean tunnel for the last couple of stops and zooms by the Vélodrome on an elevated track - from the exterior the stadium is a hulking structure with floodlights blasting. The train car was packed with fans wrapped in Marseille scarves, wearing Marseille jerseys, sporting Marseille hats and chanting Marseille songs. When we got to the stop I scrambled off and made my way out into the large plaza that sits besides the massive stadium.

Vendors hocking incredible looking grilled meets and kebab lined the square and fans loitered as they drank cold beer and ate their awesome smelling sandwiches. I was, however, a man on a mission and decided to skip the temptation to scarf down some mystery meat gutbomb and instead proceeded to the first security gate. I presented my ticket and passed through into another open plaza that acted as a buffer between the unsecured and undulating group of fans near the carts and the second security checkpoint right outside the stadium steps. I walked up to the next gate and scanned my ticket before being patted down to make sure I wasn't going to start a riot.

From here I took my first steps into the gigantic footballing cathedral. I walked down a short tunnel to the field and all of a sudden a whole new world bloomed in front of me. Floodlights blazing, the manicured pitch was illuminated and looked about as close to heaven as I can imagine. The stadium was only about half-full and the teams hadn't yet made their way onto the field for the warmup, but already you could tell the ambiance was going to be impressive.

I found where I was sitting and plopped down in my spot for the night. My tickets were unbelievable - which makes sense considering they cost me 85 euros. I was right at half-field about 15 rows from the grass, just high enough up to see the entire pitch, but so close that I could make out individual hairs on the players faces if I squinted. As if a sign from God, the two seats in front of me were empty (probably the only empty seats in the stadium) so my view was completely unobstructed, leaving me an incredible perspective for the entire match.

As I sat and looked around the stadium it started to fill up and get noisy. The two ends of the stadiums - the Virage Nord and Virage Sud - behind the goals are reserved for the Supras or mega-fans. These are the people that take their football so seriously they are willing to beat the shit out of you for mentioning the word Paris Saint-Germain. Although I can't really relate to that kind of mentality, I loved the fact that these fan-groups provided so much energy and organized craziness.

About 30 minutes before kickoff the two PSG goalies - Gregory Coupet and Apoula Edel - emerged from the tunnel accompanied by their goalie coach. The hushed murmur of 60,000 people talking immediately transformed into a raucous and deafening collective "BOO." Whistles sounded, nic-nacs were flung and the omnipresent "PUTAIN" was hurled at the three tiny individuals now gingerly preparing themselves for the pressurized match. The thing that amazed me the most about this initial onslaught of hatred was that it remained impassioned and constant for a good 10 minutes. The abuse was ever-present, not ephemeral, signifying the deep-rooted animosity that lies at the heart of the Paris-Marseille rivalry.

Eventually the rest of the players began to pour out of the tunnel and made their way onto the pitch. Again, when the PSG team jogged to the other end of the stadium to warmup the entire stadium erupted into a fervor - any and all insults were sent towards the Parisians.

In contrast, when the Marseillais ran onto the field the attention of the entire stadium diverted their attention to their beloved team. A collective cheer rang out across the Vélodrome and 60,000 people expressed their undying love for their club.

The starting 11 for Marseille warmed up directly in front of me which was pretty awesome. They did some light running on their own before lining up with their fitness coach to be put through their paces. After about 10 minutes of running, cutting, high knees and heels they stopped to stretch as a group briefly before breaking into a 5v5 game. The keep-away session lasted for about 10 minutes before the group broke up and the starters worked on whatever they felt they needed before the game began.

After the warmup the teams disappeared back into the dressing-rooms for one final pep-talk from their respective Managers. When they reemerged the stadium was completely packed The starting lineups were announced with blatant apathy in the voice of the announcer when he said the PSG names. Once the first 11 was on the pitch there was a moment of silence to pay homage to the disaster in Japan - with the two Virages creating a massive image of a Japanese flag and a few phrases.

Similarly, out of nowhere a giant banner/tarp appeared and was passed up from below me over my head. The people around me kept shuffling the cloth upwards until it was completely unfurled and then pulled up from behind me. I'm not sure what the banner said, but it was pretty cool and super well organized.

With that, the game began. The match was played at a furious pace - each team both needing and wanting to win. PSG's dreams of Champions League football next year was and still is hanging in the balance after a season of ups and downs. Marseille remain in contention for the Ligue 1 title, but could not afford to slip-up if they are to catch Lille, who currently sits top of the table.

The ambiance in the Vélodrome was mind-blowing. The two Kops took turns chanting lines of supporter songs. In between the alternating yelling the stadium was eerily silent for a couple of seconds, signifying that the whole ordeal was being beautifully orchestrated.

Before too long there was a skirmish on the edge of the PSG box and the ref called a foul. Coupet set his wall and moved back into the center of the goal while Mathieu Valbuena and Cheyrou stood over the ball considering their options. Out of nowhere former Paris Saint-Germain and Manchester United defender Gabriel Heinze swooped in and lifted the ball over the wall and gently curved it into the post with his left foot. What followed is something I will remember for the rest of my life. Up in one of the Virages a flare had been lit. Red light and smoke began to creep over the Kop. Simultaneously, the most intense explosion of joy I have ever been witness to took place. 60,000 people went temporarily insane - complete strangers shrieked and hugged each other, old women jumped from their seats while young men wiped away tears of happiness. Every single person in the Vélodrome was swept along into this torrent of ecstasy.

When the hubbub had died down and the game had begun again the stands began to sing a traditional post-goal song and the atmosphere felt electric. To make it better, I had a perfectly unobstructed view of the goal which couldn't have been prettier.

The game gritted onwards with the play becoming choppy as ankles were hacked and boots raised in tackles. PSG finally found an equalizer through their dynamic midfielder Clément Chantome. Nene, the PSG number 10, watched his shot bounce of the post and fall directly into the path of Chantome who slotted home neatly from 10 yards. Chantome sprinted like a madman to the jubilated Parisian bench while - in stark contrast to the Marseille goal - the stadium fell 100% silent. Not a word was uttered, not even a boo. You can see why playing away from home is such a difficult task when there are literally no fans in a stadium who provide any energy or spark on which to feed.

The first half ended with things tight. Right before the interval Nene chose the selfish path after a fast break and attempted to chip Steve Mandanda, the Marseille goalie, instead of laying the ball across to Guillaume Hoarau for a sure goal. The shot narrowly missed, and because of the Brazilian's choice to go it alone the teams went into the interval even at 1-1.

During the second half Marseille began to assert themselves more and more. Although PSG managed some neat play in the midfield and defense their forwards provided little in the way of attacking options. Hoarau looked tired, while the miniature Ludovic Giuly found it hard to create much of anything when confronted by the hulking figure of Marseille left-back Taye Taiwo - who much have outweighed the petit Frenchman by about 60 pounds of muscle.

Finally, Marseille found the way through and after some quality play on the sideline André Ayew rose over Sylvain Armand and forced a header past Coupet in the Parisian net. The stadium erupted once more into a communal shriek and after that the game was all but over for the club from the capital.

When the final whistle blew the Vélodrome was alight with energy and the Marseille players showed their thanks to the fans by making a quick tour of the pitch. All in all the experience was incredible, despite my favorite team falling to their biggest rivals 2-1.

Getting to watch such a heated contest in an amazing stadium was fantastic. It made me want to be a professional footballer so badly. I have one memory burned into my brain from the game - when Lucho Gonzalez came on as a substitute in the second half 60,000 people showed their appreciated for the talismanic Argentine by collectively chanting "LUCHO, LUCHO" for a good 2 minutes. I tried to imagine what it must be like to enter the game and feel so much energy being funneled to you and your team.

The experience was well worth the 85 euros, I just wish it could have gone on all night. Now I need to try and make it to Paris before the season is over to watch my beloved PSG play in the Parc Des Princes.

The stadium before the warmup.

Virage Sud - prematch.

Virage Nord - prematch.

The PSG goalies appear for their warmup.

The two of them had to deal with a ridiculous amount of abuse and pressure.

The starting 11 for Marseille stretching before their warmup really begins.

The team was composed of: Steve Mandanda in the net. The back four: Rod Fanni, Gabi Heinze, Souleymane Diawara and Taye Taiwo. The midfield: Mathieu Valbuena, Benoit Cheyrou, Stephane Mbia and Andre Ayew. The front two: Andre-Pierre Gignac and Loic Remy.

Heinze front and center.

The keep away session after the running.

The PSG starting 11 talk before the game. They looked pretty small and alone in that massive stadium.

The starting 11: In net: Gregory Coupet. The backline: Siaka Tiené, Christophe Jallet, Mamadou Sakho, and Sylvain Armand. In the middle: Nene, Ludovic Giuly, Clément Chantome, Mathieu Bodmer and Claude Makélélé. Alone up front: Guillaume Hoarau.