In La Boca, Life Loses all Colour Without Blue and Gold

“It was the most alive I think I’ve ever felt.”

On 12 December, Boca Juniors fans celebrate what they proudly call the Día del Hincha de Boca — the Day of the Boca Fan. It’s a date dedicated to the club’s so-called 12th man, a nod to the supporters who believe their presence, noise, and loyalty are as important as the players on the pitch. The day is also closely linked to La Doce, one of Boca’s most famous barra brava factions, and to the wider idea that at Boca, the crowd is never just the backdrop.

It’s that belief that brought Josh Walker to Buenos Aires, making his way to the city to experience its football culture first-hand.

Josh set out to understand what makes La Bombonera feel so different, why it moves, why it shakes, and why Boca’s supporters are spoken about with such reverence.

What follows is a personal reflection on seeing Boca Juniors up close, not just the club, but the people who give it its meaning, and the moments that make La Bombonera feel like a living thing.

Life in Blue and Gold

“My friend Lucas once told me that Boca is a way of seeing life. In his own words, ‘It’s what I see every day of my life, and what taught me to love unconditionally.’ Last month, I was lucky enough to finally find out exactly what he meant.

Over two weeks, we were fortunate enough to experience Boca twice. There were so many moments I could draw on, not least a Superclásico win and the full force of La Bombonera laid bare.

However, it was a week later, against Tigre, and a moment right at the end of the game that has truly stuck with me. The day itself had been incredible: beers and conversation leading up to kick-off, a goodbye to Lucas as we took our separate seats, and then, afterwards, a return to our own lives. I think I was feeling a quiet melancholy as the trip drew to a close, trying to soak in every last detail the stadium and its supporters had to offer before it was all over.

It took every bit of me to stay composed. The heartbeat of that stadium, the way Boca fans seem to experience a surge of being simply by standing in the presence of their team — and in the presence of each other — was overwhelming. It was the most alive I think I’ve ever felt. It was a different way of seeing life: the Boca way. And honestly, I don’t want to go back to any other way. In that moment, I finally understood what Lucas meant.

I once read a quote from a famous Boca fan, La Raulito, that has stayed with me: “Nobody made me a Boca fan; I already knew those colours would bring me so much joy.” In Argentina, life starts and ends with football. In La Boca, life loses all colour without blue and gold.

In my case, I couldn’t have imagined the joy those colours would bring me. Nobody made me a Boca fan either — except Boca itself, if that makes any sense at all. This mental club, and everything and everyone it encompasses, draws you in. If you get it, you get it. And if you don’t, well… shame on you.

Against the backdrop of a turbulent period for Argentina, the richness that football gives to the people of this country is beauty beyond belief—a special club, in a special part of the world.

Dale Boca. Forever.