Daniela Spina’s connection to Huracán runs deeper than football. It’s woven into her family’s history, stitched into the fabric of Buenos Aires itself.
Her grandfather, a Huracán fan through and through, met her grandmother while dancing tango at the club.
Her mother played basketball there. Her great-uncle sparred with the legendary boxer Ringo Bonavena, another die-hard Huracán supporter. And at nine years old, Daniela was led up the steps of the Estadio Tomás Adolfo Ducó by her grandfather, hand in hand, to see the pitch for the first time.
“I knew right then that I wanted to be a Huracán fan,” she says. “It was one of the happiest days of my life.”
Now a photographer, Daniela’s work is an extension of that lifelong devotion.
Her project, Por Su Gente (“For Its People”), captures the raw emotion of Huracán’s fanbase—their joy, their frustration, their unwavering belief in a club that doesn’t need trophies to define its greatness.
“Huracán is great, only great because of its people, even without winning championships,” she says, quoting a song that inspired the project’s name.
Through her lens, she documents the stands, the streets, and the cafés where the club’s presence is felt long after matchday ends.
“Huracán is the clear representation of the porteño,” she explains. “Of Buenos Aires, of tango, of the middle class, of the neighbourhood.”
Daniela’s photography isn’t just about football—it’s about the way the game seeps into the city’s identity.
Buenos Aires, she notes, has more stadiums with capacities over 10,000 than any other city in the world, and inter-neighbourhood rivalries define its football culture.
“In Argentina, the club is a social space, a place where the neighbourhood comes together, where people form bonds and create history.”
In this conversation, Daniela talks about growing up in Huracán, the unique footballing culture of Buenos Aires, and the images that have meant the most to her.
“Football can tell the story of a neighbourhood,” she says. And through her photography, Daniela is making sure those stories are seen.
MY GRANDFATHER HAD OTHER PLANS
My grandfather was a Huracán fan, and his story is deeply tied to the club.
He met my grandmother while dancing tango at Huracán’s club, so in a way, my very existence is connected to this place.
My family has also been involved in sports at the club—my grandfather played basketball for Huracán, and his brother was the sparring partner of Bonavena, one of Argentina’s greatest boxers and a devoted Huracán supporter. My mother also played basketball there.
The first person who took me to the stadium was my grandfather when I was nine years old. My mom didn’t want me to be a Huracán fan because she was one herself and had suffered a lot.
She thought it would be better for me to support Boca, like my dad. But my grandfather had other plans.
Now, I go to the stadium with my mom and my brothers. One of my favourite family photos is of my mother, my grandfather, and me, while I was still in my mom’s belly, at the stadium.
It’s crazy to think that I was there before I was even born.
IT WAS INEVITABLE THAT THEY WOULD BE THE PROTAGONISTS OF MY PHOTOS
Huracán is the clear representation of the porteño, of Buenos Aires, of tango, of the middle class and of the neighbourhood.
Porteño football is represented in Huracán; it is felt in its streets. When Huracán wins, the neighbourhood is happy.
Most importantly, the people of Huracán are a club that feels like a family and that can withstand any adversity.
Since the people are so fundamental to this club, it was inevitable that they would be the protagonists of my photos.
The contribution of this club to the history of Argentine football is fundamental, both in goals and in the beginning of the recent history of national football: without Menotti in the national team, the identity and history of Argentine football would not have begun to be drawn.
He revolutionised Argentine football. He not only led Argentina to its first World Cup victory but also gave Huracán its first professional-era trophy.
His story began at Huracán, brought to the club by a local doctor who was also the club president.
Before 1973, Menotti wasn’t well known, but he built a team from Huracán’s youth academy and introduced a beautiful style of play that captivated football lovers worldwide.
He then went on to change the history of Argentine football.
I GREW UP SURROUNDED BY ITS COLOURS AND SPIRIT.
The Ducó is my second home, I can’t describe all the things I have felt there. And the crazy thing is that the years are passing by, but the only thing that persists is going to see my team.
I remember the first day that I went to the stadium. I vividly remember walking up the stadium stairs with him, holding hands with my grandfather.
The moment I saw the field for the first time was one of the happiest days of my life.
I knew right then that I wanted to be a Huracán fan.
At the time, the club was in the second division, fighting to return to the first. Supporting my grandfather’s team meant everything to me.
My neighbourhood was filled with Huracán fans—I grew up surrounded by its colours and spirit.
Choosing Huracán over Boca (my father’s team) wasn’t just about football; it was about my identity. It was the first time I ever felt the deep joy and heartbreak that football can bring.
Other of my greatest memories was the Huracán versus River match of 2009; that was a total show (Fun fact: I appeared on national television crying) and a lot of clásicos (Huracán vs San Lorenzo).
The most beautiful thing now is that I have these memories in my photos.
Last year, I exhibited a photo of the Huracán fans screaming a goal versus San Lorenzo in the “Gente de mi Ciudad” exhibition, and it was a dream come true.
HURACÁN IS THE REASON FOR THE NEIGHBOURHOOD TO BE HAPPY
The football can tell the story of a neighbourhood or a city. It consumes the personality and the history of these places.
Luis Menotti once said, “Huracán es la excusa de un barrio para ser feliz” (Huracán is the reason for the neighbourhood to be happy), and that is something that changed the way people live football.
Passion is not negotiable, and passion is one of the most beautiful things to live and to capture in a photo.
Argentines, like in other parts of Latin America, have few resources.
Football only requires a ball and 4 sticks to make someone happy.
We may lack everything, but Argentines will always be looking for a way to play or watch football.
IT’S PART OF MY HISTORY
Buenos Aires is the city in the world that has the most stadiums with over 10,000 spectators: 36.
In many of them, transcendent episodes have occurred not only for the history of Argentine soccer but for the history of world soccer.
Furthermore, as in Argentine soccer, the processes of antagonization have been different from those of other countries; an almost unique phenomenon of inter-neighbourhood rivalries predominates in Buenos Aires (San Lorenzo-Huracán, Chicago-All Boys, Atlanta-Chacarita, etc.).
On the other hand, the social aspect of the clubs means that the fans’ passion can be felt in the streets.
In Buenos Aires and throughout Argentina, the club is a social space where the neighbourhood comes together to create its history, where people form bonds and create memories.
It’s not just a place dedicated to soccer; the club is the place where neighbours meet and create the identity of the place where they live, where neighbourhoods come alive.
That’s why soccer fans are so passionate; in Argentina, neighbourhood clubs are a social space of enormous importance for families.
This is also experienced in the streets of the neighbourhoods, with the cafés, restaurants, and businesses that embrace the club’s identity.
As I mentioned before, my grandparents met dancing the tango at my club. How could it not be important to me and my neighbourhood if it’s part of my history?
FOOTBALL IS PART OF THAT IDENTITY
Buenos Aires is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I have travelled a lot and I really miss my city and the people (and the food) when I’m abroad.
Buenos Aires has a very strong identity, and football is part of that identity; it is in its streets and in its people.
For anybody visiting, I would recommend living an authentic neighbourhood experience in Buenos Aires, in a place like Parque Patricios, Villa Crespo or La Paternal. In those places you will find life like in Buenos Aires, where we porteños live.
FOOTBALL IS BEAUTIFUL
The project for my images is called Por Su Gente (“For Their People”), inspired by a song that says, “Huracán es grande, solo grande por su gente y sin salir campeón” (Huracán is great, only great because of its people, even without winning championships).
It reflects the reality of being a Huracán fan—we don’t experience trophies often, but we deeply love our club.
As a woman, I always wondered how I could connect with my club beyond just being a fan.
Men often dream of scoring goals and hearing the crowd chant their names.
For me, this project is my way of giving back and expressing my love for Huracán.
I don’t have an exact date for when I started this project—it happened naturally.
I was at the stadium, surrounded by all these incredible moments, and I felt the need to capture them. Football is beautiful, and in Latin America, it’s even more special.
Families go together, kids grow up in the stands, and sometimes, even dogs join in (one of my first pictures was of a dog at the stadium).
When I was 18, I co-founded an NGO to support my neighbourhood and the club.
We did community projects, including painting a massive Huracán flag.
I wanted to photograph it after spending so many hours working on it.
But when I picked up my camera, I realised there was so much more to capture—the people, the kids, the emotions. That’s how it all started.
THE PASSION AND ANGER ARE UNMISTAKABLE
I have two favourite photographs.
One is of a woman with an intense, furious expression, making a horn gesture with her hand.
It was one of the first pictures I took with my 70-300mm lens, and it inspired me to keep shooting.
Even without context, you immediately know it’s a football match—the passion and anger are unmistakable.
The other is from a clásico against San Lorenzo. It captures fans screaming after a goal, their faces filled with raw emotion. It’s powerful because it shows one of football’s purest moments of joy.
Capturing that kind of image is difficult, you have to react quickly and position yourself perfectly. In those moments, I became a photographer, not just a fan.
ALL OF OUR THANKS TO DANIELA SPINA.
ALL IMAGES BY DANIELA.
TO SEE MORE OF DANIELA’S WORK, PLEASE FOLLOW HER HERE ON INSTAGRAM: danielasacafotos