Direct witness of 'Le Classique' in Marseille: Anti-PSG, an incognito bus to avoid stones...

It had been 14 years since Olympique de Marseille had beaten PSG in Ligue 1 at the Velodrome. Fourteen years of long wait during which Marseille fans have seen their rivals win 10 championships (13 in total compared to OM's nine) and a Champions League (matching Marseille's triumph in 1993). A change in the balance of power as sudden as it was overwhelming, coinciding, of course, with the acquisition of the Parisian club by Sheikh Nasser in 2011.

Walking through the streets of Marseille, one becomes aware of how difficult it must have been to accept Parisian domination in recent years. OM, in Marseille, is everywhere: in the murals that colour every wall in the city; in the shirts proudly worn by Marseillais on the street; in the signs of bars, restaurants, supermarkets or shops, where the team's crest is never missing. It is a total identification, the one that exists between the city and its football team. It is one of the reasons why Roberto De Zerbi, after his experience in the Premier League, has chosen to settle on the Cote d'Azur: Marseille is a city that lives and breathes football every day, every week, all year round. Paris, on the other hand, the city of enemies, as can be seen from the many shirts worn by fans with the inscription "Anti-PSG" instead of the name of any player, represents a way of living football at the antipodes. The French capital lives on fashion and art, and the match at the Parc des Princes seems to be just one of many pastimes to which one can devote oneself. Paris, culturally, cannot be considered a football city

The tensions over the postponement of the match only served to exacerbate an already high level of tension. The match, scheduled for Sunday 21, was postponed due to a downpour that hit Marseille from the afternoon onwards. The postponement sparked controversy on both sides: Marseille demanded from the outset to play on Monday, appealing to the regulations according to which the first available date must be used to recover the match; PSG, for its part, pressed for a postponement to Tuesday or the end of December, in order to avoid a clash with the Ballon d'Or ceremony, which would see several of the team's protagonists rewarded (and perhaps to recover Doue, Dembele, Neves and Barcola, who were injured). In the end, OM got its way: they will play on Monday at 20:00.

A sociopolitical clash

At 5pm, the atmosphere outside the Velodrome is already fiery. Some Parisian fans comment on social media that it is yet another demonstration that Marseille fans are all unemployed: skirmishes of a "Classique". It should be remembered that, as is often the case, also between Marseille and Paris the rivalry transcends football to enter into a socio-political dimension. As so often happens, the confrontation is between the cultural and economic capital (Paris) and the south of the country, more passionate and hedonistic in its way of living, but also more complex at a social level. The chants are almost all dedicated to their arch-rivals: OM have not won at home for 14 years, but their fans never stop claiming their belonging to the "right" side of French football history. At around 6:30pm everyone moves towards the arrival of the buses: first comes Marseille's, greeted with applause and cheers. But that's just about it. What really matters is to unleash all the hatred accumulated in those 14 long years when PSG arrive, who enter the Velodrome without their personalised bus for security reasons: crossing the city would become dangerous. In 2015, PSG's bus entering the Velodrome was stoned by OM fans, who broke the front windows of the vehicle. No one was injured, but since that day PSG have travelled incognito. This is "Le Classique".

Inside the Velodrome, wonderful for its imposing nature combined with the elegance of an undulating structure, almost like a butterfly in the shapes of the stands, its curves stand out: Virage Nord and Virage Sud coordinate with enviable precision: each curve has its own ultra groups and leaders, but the sense of cohesion is total. Even more so when the most famous OM chant begins: "Aux armes" ("To arms"). One end sings it, and the other, from the opposite side, responds. When the players take to the field, two choreographies are displayed, one for each end, while the roar of the stadium becomes deafening. The Virage Sud displays a giant picture with the OM logo and the inscription "Olympique Marseille since 1899". The Virage Nord, on the other hand, displays the coat of arms of the city of Marseille; the flags held by the fans make up the number "2600" (years since the founding of the city) which completes the banner displayed: "2,600 years that the city of Marseille shines for its exploits." Unlike most European stadiums, here almost every song is followed by the whole stadium, including the stands, without exception. OM, despite De Zerbi's offensive creed, play a game of suffering and containment, but for a return to a victory absent for 14 years, it could not be otherwise. The stadium adapts and bursts into ecstasy with every winning sweep, clearance or clash of gladiators in white and blue shirts. The last few minutes are lived by everyone with their hands on their heads and their legs trembling nervously: the final whistle is a cry of liberation choked for fourteen years. At the end of the match a fight breaks out because something is thrown from the stands towards PSG players: it is an excess of love that sometimes leads to madness. The Virage Sud once again displays its choreography: it is a way of reaffirming to the enemy that OM's status has been reclaimed. Then "Aux armes-Nous sommes les Marseillais-Nous voulons gagner Allez l'OM" ("To arms! We are Marseilles! We are here to win, Allez OM!") rings out again. This time it is not a cry of encouragement for battle; now there is all the pride for the triumph achieved.

Total celebration in the streets of Marseille

n the post-match, outside the stadium, the party is total, unbridled, without limits. The background sound is a mixture of horns blaring, engines roaring and the rhythm of the straight bass beats of Jul, Marseille's symbol and OM's rapper. In the street in front of the stadium, total anarchy reigns. Traffic is completely blocked by celebrating fans, who sing and wave scarves and flags against car windows, but the drivers do not seem to mind: they themselves celebrate with the same enthusiasm and honk their horns. Then a van passes by, and the crowd immediately has a brilliant intuition: about 30 fans jump into the back and jump around like crazy. Others climb onto the roof of another truck, until the police, who until then had let the fans let off steam, start to approach with the threat of charging.

It is the madness of Marseille, a city that lives for its football team, a heritage in which it takes refuge from the numerous social problems that beset it, including a very high average unemployment rate and a crime rate that makes it one of the most dangerous cities in Europe. But when the lights of the Velodrome come on, the difficulties give way to a party in which the divisions of the city are overcome in the name of community spirit. That's what it means for a whole city to push its team. After 14 years of waiting, Marseille is dreaming again.