Fireworks and flares on a massive, never before seen scale lead to nearly $200,000 fine for a soccer team

B efore the ball even touched the grass, before the 90 regulation minutes began, an avalanche of fireworks swallowed an entire stadium in a curtain of light, smoke, and thunder. It wasn't a show, it was a declaration. An attempt to impose presence, strength, and territory with a display so excessive it seemed to blur the line between celebration and excess.

The flares were endless, as if someone had decided to set the entire sky on fire with their hands . Fireworks exploded in every direction, each one bigger than the last, echoing off the stands with a force that shook even the people outside the stadium. It was impossible not to freeze for a moment: the scene was beautiful and wild, stunning and dangerous. Cameras could barely capture what was happening. The air turned red, blue, white. At times, the field disappeared under the thick cloud of gunpowder.

An unprecedented pregame show becomes costly

But that visual grandeur had a sharp edge. What began as a monumental display quickly turned into an equally monumental violation. Security officials took notes. The referees waited. And the match the real match suddenly felt secondary to the sheer scale of the pregame reception. No one knew what the cost would be yet, but it was clear the limits of South American football had been pushed like rarely before.

Only then did the full picture come into focus: the spectacle had taken place at El Cilindro de Avellaneda, right before the clash between Racing Club and Flamengo, a high voltage matchup on its own. But that reception went beyond color and passion; it was a display so exaggerated it broke through any protocol, any warning, and any margin allowed by CONMEBOL regulations.

The response came quickly. What fans saw as an act of love and support, the South American body saw as a clear violation of safety and conduct rules. The sanction landed with unusual force: three home matches behind closed doors, a fourth with reduced capacity, and a fine close to $200,000. A punishment that not only hits the club financially, but also silences its greatest weapon: its people.

The irony is that the entire display aimed for the opposite effect: to intimidate the rival, ignite the home team, and build an atmosphere so overwhelming that Flamengo would feel every step. In chasing that level of intensity, Racing ended up losing far more than it gained. The pregame celebration, the explosion of colors and flares, turned into an affront that cost them far beyond the final score.

A postcard that will remain one of the most impressive and most expensive of the continental season.