200 Meters of Hell, Argentina

They divide belief. Memory. Identity.

On one side: the Estadio Libertadores de América – Ricardo Bochini. A red fortress—angular, defiant, heavy with legacy. Its lines are sharp, its silence loaded. Even empty, it feels full.

Full of history, pride, and pressure. Photographing it is like entering a space that doesn’t welcome, but challenges.

Just across the street: El Cilindro, Racing Club’s home. It curves where the other cuts. The space opens, the light moves differently. At first glance, it feels softer—calmer.

But there’s no less fire here. The passion simmers just beneath the surface, in the blue paint, in the echo of chants that never fully leave.