Colombia: The South American Rock Show
Even though football and rock music appear to be unrelated, there are some rudimentary similarities between the two, especially in a nation like Colombia. Both have been the voice of the downtrodden and the youth of the country. Both provided the much needed breath of fresh air to Colombians who had survived two harrowing wars and countless epidemics. It provided people with something that was somehow bigger than religion and more powerful than gunpowder. Surprisingly enough, rock music’s biggest paradigm shifts throughout the century have always somehow coincided with the evolution of Colombian football. Ayan Roy Chowdhury tells us more at Goalden Times.
Alvaro Ortega was returning to his hotel room after an exhausting day of football when he realized that the streets were unusually still. A bit unnerved, he decided to walk faster. His hotel, after all, was just around the corner. Suddenly, two mysterious men appeared seemed to appear out of thin air. Were they the ghosts of Medellin’s past?
The air smelled like death. There was a blinding flash, a deafening roar, a morbid scream of sheer terror.
“That will teach you to disallow a f**king Medellin goal,” screamed the assassins, before they pumped twenty bullets into Ortega’s body.
In 1989, referee Alvaro Ortega was killed by two gunmen after officiating an Independiente Medellin v Club America match. European football is well-publicized throughout the world. It doesn’t matter whether you are a middle class family man in Vietnam or a poor farmer in Burkina Faso—European football is just one click away. Tactics, directness, physicality—European football gets things done its own way. But when we search for romanticism in football—that mystique aura which elevates it to fairy-tale stature—the answer almost always lies with football in Latin America. It’s the land of joga bonito, the land of superclasico, the land of Maradona and Pele. It’s the place where people don’t have enough money to buy food, but enough skill to dribble past ten.
Today, however, we are going to discuss about the perennial bad boy in class.
There is one country in Latin America that has created a football pedigree of its own—a decades-long legacy. Colombia is as Latin American as they come, with a football history that’s intertwined with that of a famous drug cartel.
However, like many other great characters in timeless epics, Colombian football is rather neglected on the world stage, despite producing one of the greatest football stories ever written.
This article looks at two landmark events of Colombian football that helped shaped its fate—Colombia’s first World Cup outing in 1962 and the ill-fated World Cup campaign in 1994. These two events showcase the entirety of Colombia’s football journey, including its glorious highs and tormenting lows.
Chapter 1: El Dorado
When music and football both decided to rebel
“There are strange things happening everyday
Oh, the last man, judgment day
when they drive him all away
there are strange things happening everyday” 
In the late 40s and early 50s, before the days of Elvis Presley and Bil Haley, rhythm and blues had started to rule the music universe. It was the music industry’s first step towards a rock and roll culture.
1949 was a landmark year for music. From 1945 to 1949, records produced largely by black artists were catalogued and ranked as Race Records. In 1949, Jerry Wexler and Billboard established the more politically correct Rhythm and Blues charts.
Meanwhile, Colombian football decided to change too.
Fun Fact: The Colombian national league is considered to be the second-best in the world according to IFFHS ranking, and is supposed to be the best domestic league in South America.
So, how was 1949 a landmark year for the game in Colombia? Well, they decided to break away from FIFA.
DIMAYOR (División Mayor del Fútbol Profesional Colombiano), the organizer of the league, broke away from FIFA after a dispute with Adefútbol, the existing amateur football authority in Colombia.
What that meant for Colombian football was that no domestic team could take part in international tournaments henceforth. The Colombian national team was also under heavy sanctions. That sounds pretty bleak, right?
Well, guess what happened? The Colombian league enjoyed its first golden era during these years.
Rocket 88 is a song created by Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats. Legend says that the band’s guitar amp fell off the back of their pickup truck as they travelled to Memphis to cut this—their first record. The bass cone busted on the amp, so the guitarist stuffed a piece of crumpled up paper into the gap. Sun producer Sam Phillips liked the resultant rattling, and this became the first instance of guitar distortion and, for many, represented a starting point for that which we call rock and roll.
A freak accident led to what many consider to be the first true rock song ever. The Colombian national league needed such an accident after its FIFA suspension. In 1948, the Argentine Football Association faced General Juan Domingo Perón and began a strike that caused the migration of several of the most important Argentinian footballers to the Colombian league. Also, since the league was not affiliated to FIFA, the Colombian clubs weren’t required to pay transfer fees under FIFA rules.
These two factors saved the nation’s football league.
Millionarios, one of the biggest clubs in Bogota, started to take advantage of this situation. They bought Alfredo Di Stéfano. La Saeta Rubia , which translates to “The Blond Arrow” (as Di Stefano was fondly known) started pumping goals left, right and center. During this period, Millionarios played some dazzling football with a squad that was known as The Blue Ballet. It featured great players such as di Stefano, forward Adolfo Pedernera, defender Néstor Rossi, and other figures (mainly) from River Plate. Thanks to their great football skills on the pitch, Millonarios were named the best team in the world in the early 1950s by several European and South American media outlets.
All other clubs decided to hop onto this football train. Santa Fe signed Neil Franklin and George Mountford from Stoke City, Charlie Mitten from Manchester United, and Hector Rial from Real Madrid. Rial was part of the Real Madrid team that won five consecutive European championships. All this led to Colombia being suspended by FIFA due to the illegal recruitment of international players. The teams were forced to return all expatriate players that had participated in the tournament through irregular means. The Colombian national team was also banned from the 1954 FIFA World Cup for the same reason.
In 1950, DIMAYOR agreed to end El Dorado through the Pacto de Lima with FIFA, but with the requirement that foreign players would return to their countries in 1954.
Chapter 2: Adolescence
World Cup and bend it like Marcos Coll
“There’s battle lines being drawn
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind”
60s was a time when rock music finally started to grow beyond its original boundaries. Britain successfully invaded the rock and pop territory with a band from Liverpool taking charge. The Beatles craze that swept the world had its own specific name—Beatlemania.
But it was someone else who decided to explore new shores. Psychedelic music’s LSD-inspired vibe began in the folk scene. Los Angeles-based group The Doors was all things dark and everything against social norm. Although its charismatic lead singer Jim Morrison died in 1971, the band’s popularity has endured to this day.
Colombian National football started being internationally recognized as well. It was time for World Cup 1962. Given that Brazil had already qualified as the defending champions and Chile was the host country, Colombia had their work cut out. Seven teams were in contention to qualify for the World Cup. Paraguay were drawn to play in the CONMEBOL (Confederación Sudamericana de Fútbol)/ CCCF (Confederación Centroamericana y del Caribe de Fútbol)/ NAFC (North American Football Confederation) intercontinental play-off. The remaining six teams were pitted against each other in three head-to-head ties.
Even after all this, it would have been hard if Colombia had faced Argentina or Uruguay. But Colombia was to play against the humble Peru. One win and one draw helped the former secure their place in Chile. Colombia was the young face in the football arena. Nobody had any real expectations from them.
The dream of Colombia playing in the biggest possible stage came to fruition in 1961, when the team defeated Peru in a two-game play-off and became one of the 16 teams that went for the crown in Chile in 1962.
The team had grit, thanks to a handful of footballers who managed to excel in a league of foreigners. Credit must also be given to one of the most important outsiders in Colombian local football in the 50s—the Argentine Adolfo Pedernera.
The 35 pre-selected players found a comfortable training camp in Bogota. “The only problem was that there was no hot water, we got up at 6 in the morning to bathe in cold water, some of them did not bathe before training, and then they had to take it because the water was still cold.” recalled Aceros, one of the players in Colombia’s World Cup squad. 
Of the initial 35, manager Pedernera finally selected his 22-men squad. Only a couple of them had ever played outside the country. The trip to Chile was an incredibly novel experience for most in the team, getting away from the atrocities at home.
The trip was long. The Colombian national team undertook a 62-km bus ride, from Bogota to Arica, with stops in Lima and Tacna. Arica was chosen as the base of World Cup’s Group 1 because the organizers had assumed Peru would be one of the contenders. In fact, Arica was Peruvian territory. In 1879, Chile declared war on Peru. Four years later, with the Treaty of Ancon, the Chilean forces withdrew. However, Arica remained a Chilean domain for ten years. After this allotted period of time, there would be a plebiscite that would determine whether this city and Tacna remained within Chile or Peru. The plebiscite was never held and in 1929, Arica was still officially within Chile.
“At the beginning, the reception was very cold, but afterwards, people began to make us laugh, even though Uruguay was also in that group, and those who did not play ended up on the rostrum bar, “ recalls Hernando Tovar, one of the players in the squad.
Group 1 of the tournament had Yugoslavia, Soviet Union, and Uruguay. Among these, Soviet Union was the inaugural Euro champion, Uruguay was the then-reigning South American champion, and Yugoslavia would eventually finish fourth in the tournament. Colombia lost their first match against Uruguay 2-1. It was the second match that marked the nation’s arrival at an international footballing stage. Colombia staged a legendary comeback against the mighty Soviet Union. The former was 4-1 down after 60 minutes. Lev Yashin, arguably the greatest goalkeeper of all times, was guarding Soviet Union’s post. Even then, Colombia managed to end the match at 4-4. An impressive performance from a fledgling team.
In this process, Marcos Coll achieved the impossible. He scored an Olympic goal—a corner that goes straight into the net—against Lev Yashin. It has remained the only Olympic goal to be scored in a World Cup till date.
Fate switched sides in the next match. Colombia’s last match was a rather display, as they were demolished 5-0 by Yugoslavia.
It had not been easy for Colombia to reach the World Cup. So, even though they only managed to get one point during the entirety of the tournament, the Colombian fans were overjoyed. “Marcos Coll’s Olympic goal and 4-4 made people come in. There were a lot of people at the airport and then, on the way to downtown Bogota,”  Rada said.
Colombia would not feature in a World Cup for the next 28 years—a decidedly long hiatus. Even today, with more options to qualify (because the number of teams that can qualify was expanded to 24 in 1982 and 32 in 1998), getting to the World Cup remains a difficult challenge for Colombia. That is why the 22 players commanded by Pedernera are still deservedly remembered as heroes.
Colombian players kept on reminding everyone about their football prowess—with or without the World Cup. The best example of this came in 1975. Colombia’s rampant display against defending champions Uruguay in 1975’s Copa America semifinal will always be remembered as the biggest advertisement of Colombia’s football pedigree before the 1980s.
The Medellin drug cartels led by Pablo Escobar rose to prominence in the 80s. An era of terrorism and glory began. Colombian society and law enforcement that opposed the cartel faced the wrath of Pablo Escobar. An organized and ruthless army of Sicarios (assassins) turned Medellin into Pablo’s favourite hunting ground. In 1985, Pablo Escobar allegedly backed Palace of Justice Siege [*], an incident that shook Colombian justice and law, and strengthened Pablo Escobar’s reign beyond imagination. Forbes magazine estimated Escobar to be one of the richest people on the planet. This endless fortune of drug money acted as the catalyst Colombian football had been waiting for. Just how much did drug money influence football?
Chapter 3: Smells like teen spirit (Soccer, drug and The Escobars)
“The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there
Smiling in the pictures you would take
Doing crystal meth, will lift you up until you break”
In the late 80s and early 90s, USA was grooving to the beats of Nirvana. The band’s lead singer, Kurt Cobain was the voice of the new generation—proclaiming himself to be “carefree” and “out of any shackles”. However, a listless generation took this as an invitation to do drugs. For addicts, perhaps even a hint of excuse is enough. All of USA was flooded with contraband drugs.
Well, here we were, discussing football. What might a drug lord have to do with it? For that, you have to understand the socio-economic scenario of Colombia—an ailing country that was torn apart by guerrilla warfare and oligarchy. The rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer. The communist guerrilla war only managed to rack up dead bodies. Pablo Escobar’s drug cartel brought sanity and order to Colombia’s underground world. The rule was simple. If you want to do something illegal, take Pablo’s approval. During his heyday, Escobar’s daily earning was close to USD 50 million. Why would a person like this be interested in football?
The answer is simple. When one is earning that kind of money, one has to know how to launder it as well. Ticket sales in stadiums generated a huge amount of cash. Now, suppose one sold tickets worth USD one million, and showed it to be USD two million on paper—effectively converting USD one million from black to white money. This method also worked during player transfers. One could always claim that a player was sold for much more money than he was actually sold for.
Pablo Escobar was not the only drug lord who needed to launder his money. There were others too. While Escobar invested heavily in Atletico Nacional, El Mexicano (another head of the Medellin cartel) invested in Millionarios. Miguel Rodriguez, a Colombian drug lord, one of the leaders of Cali Cartel, invested with America De Cali. Football became a form of cold war between Colombian drug lords. However, it completely changed the Colombian national league. Now they had the money to attract foreign players, while retaining their best players and developing a healthy infrastructure for the sport. All Colombian clubs began growing fast. (Fun fact: Pablo Escobar, along with his associated, used to attend almost all of Atletico’s matches.)
It is a hard world for a referee when drug lords are backing clubs whose matches they are officiating.
During the 1989 tournament we referred to at the beginning of this article, the bookies favoured the Medellin club and lots of money was involved. But guess what? Their opponents, America de Cali, won the match. That infuriated Escobar. He allegedly threatened to kill everyone for the loss of his beloved club, and instructed his associated to murder the referee. With such a dictator at the helm, it’s not surprising that 1989 was the year of Atletico’s famous Copa Libertadores run.
Andre Escobar, young but valiant, (but no way related to the drug lord Pablo) was part of this team. Atletico went down 2-0 against Paraguay’s Club Olimpia in the first leg of the final. They turned the table after that, with a 2-0 victory at home. After a stalemate, young Andre Escobar was sent to take the first penalty—and he scored. Rene Higuita was blocking everything that came his way, but the Atletico players couldn’t capitalize. Finally, it all came down to Leonel Alvarez, who scored a goal to win the match for Atletico. This was the first time a Colombian club had triumphed outside Colombia. It was the finest hour for Colombian football.
Andres Escober, Rene Higuita, Carlos Valderrama, Freddy Rincon, Leonel Alvarez—this young group of men gradually formed the backbone of Colombia’s national team. To this formidable combination, Arnoldo Iguaran added his much-needed experience. 1989 was truly a watershed year for the nation’s football. Along with Atletico’s Copa Libertadores victory, the Colombian national team qualified for the World Cup to be held in 1990. After topping its qualification group, Colombia was set to play against Israel. The former won the match by a narrow margin, and announced its return to the World Cup.
Colombia’s 1990 World Cup campaign was nothing short of a Broadway play. It was the only team not to lose against the eventual champions West Germany. A win against the UAE and a draw against West Germany ensured Colombia’s progress to the round of 16 as one of the best third-placed teams. In fact, their World Cup dream could have expanded even further if not for the intervention of a 38-year-old legend. In one of the best extra-time clashes World Cup has ever witnessed, Cameroon’s Roger Milla decided to stop the world and make it his own. In a game that finished 2-1 in favour of Cameroon after extra-time, Milla’s second goal against Higuita is considered one of the biggest goalkeeping goof-ups World Cup has ever seen.
But that is a story for another day.
A year after Atletico secured the Copa Libertadores, Colombian domestic football was suspended when a Uruguayan referee accused Escobar’s men of putting him under pressure to “ensure that Atletico won the tournament.” The official died a year later—his meal at a restaurant had been laced with rat poison. Referee Alvaro Ortega was killed by two gunmen after officiating an Independiente Medellin v Club America match. Two goalkeepers were shot dead in 1993 after letting in soft goals during league games. As Andres Escobar put it, there was a “culture of fear” in Colombian football.
Fans are undoubtedly one of the stimulants that elevate football to a whole new level.
Latin Americans, especially, are passionate fans. The biggest names in Colombian football are Atletico and Millonarios, for obvious reasons. However, like the Millwalls and the West hams, it is the small clubs that produce the fiercest rivalries between fans.
Add guns, drugs, and salsa to this potent mix, and you might get an idea of the rivalry between America de Cali and Deportivo Cali.
Frente radical Verdiblanco of Deportivo and Baron Rojo Sur of America are among the most notorious hooligans football has ever seen. Backed heavily by drug money in the 80s and 90s, what started this rivalry was the oldest reason of them all—wealth. Deportivo and America had deep cultural differences based on their economic backgrounds. The working class fans of America are called los Escarlatas and the middle class crowd of Deportivo are los Azucareros. These disparities of wealth have characterized the region since Spanish colonizers overwhelmed and enslaved indigenous tribes of the Cauca Valley in 1536. Quickly recognizing the cash bonanza in sugar cane, Spain imported thousands of slaves from Africa to Colombia. Cali steadily grew in importance, attracting both sugar and coffee magnates as well as poor farm workers. But it was when the railroad rolled in at the beginning of the 20th Century that the city truly began to flourish.
At this time, the sons of the wealthy tycoons returned from studying in Europe with a new game and formed the Cali Football Club in 1912. In contrast, América originated from literally the other side of the tracks. Established by Pablo Manrique—a sports teacher at a poor college in the southern shanties—on behalf of the city’s workers, it took nine years and three name changes (Júnior, Racing, and Independiente) before the club was officially founded on 13 February 1927.
The greens of Frente radical Verdiblanco and the reds of Baron Rojo Sur still flood the city of Cali on match days. The intensity is so mind numbing that these two sets of fans won’t even look at each other.
Football hooliganism is the dark underbelly of this beautiful game. Like other hooligan rivalries, this too has resulted in deaths. 17 November 1982 will always be remembered as a sad day in the history of Colombian football.
That day, América and Cali drew 3-3 at the Pascual Guerrero Stadium. Reportedly, drunken thugs urinated on enemy fans below, causing a stampede. 24 people died and 163 were injured. After this incident, Gilberto Rodríguez Orejuela, the kingpin of Cali cartel, made America one of the most successful clubs in 80s and 90s till USA’s anti-drug Clinton bill brought them to their knees.
Dreams of a Nation
Andres Escobar, René Higuita, Leonel Álvarez, Fernando Herrera—almost half of that legendary Atletico team came from slums, where Pablo donated football fields and created organized football leagues. For most of these players, Pablo was not a drug kingpin, but the guy who gave them hope. Wealth did not matter in football fields. Prowess with the ball decided one’s fate. Whole communities would forget their worries just to see their local heroes in action. Shunned by society, handicapped by poverty, football was their escape route, their Holy Grail. Players had a strong relation with Pablo. He was the Robin Hood paisa, Inviting players to his ranch for entertaining evenings and football matches.
Andre Escobar, on the other hand, was a righteous man. He liked to stay away from drug money. He loved his country. Colombia was synonymous with drugs, pornstars, kidnappings, and guns. Andre Escobar knew that football was the only way to redeem its name. Atletico had an amazing team. Rene Higuita, Carlos Valderrama, Andre Escobar, Faustino Asprilla, Leonel Alvarez, Freddy Rincon—the best of Colombia in one single team. Leading up to the 1994 World Cup, they played 26 matches throughout the world and lost only one.
The entire nation was rooting for their team this time. They had already become the best team in South America—with a FIFA ranking of four. The expectation was so much that president Gaviria used the national team in a million dollar P.R. campaign to clean Colombia’s drug-infested image. Legend has it that Colombian paramilitary and communist guerrillas together watched their national team play.
During qualifications for 1994’s World Cup, it all came down to the ultimate showdown between Argentina and Colombia. The winner would get a direct admission to World Cup 1994. Naturally, it was the biggest match in the history of Colombian football. When the Colombian national team reached Argentina, they were treated with abuse and even physical assault by local fans. In the match, however, Faustino Asprilla danced through the Argentine defence. Valderrama was unstoppable, Escobar was unbreakable. The final result was so astounding that the entire world came to know of Colombia as football’s new royalty. Argentina was demolished 5-0. The entire stadium gave the Colombians a standing ovation. They qualified for the World Cup as one of the tournament favourites.
One Goal, Six Bullets
All avid followers of football know that Colombia’s 1994 campaign was cursed. But what exactly happened that led to such debacle? Saying a team collapsed under the pressure of a country’s dream is true, but not even tip of the iceberg. Let’s try to dig deeper.
In 1991, Escobar was responsible for kidnapping the daughter of Carlos Molina, a rival cocaine baron. Higuita helped secure her release by delivering a ransom of USD 300,000 to his friend—Escobar. Higuita spent seven months inside jail on charges of profiting from a kidnapping. The charges against him were later dropped, but Higuita’s chances of playing in the fateful 1994 World Cup were over.
Apart from that, Higuita gave an interview while going to visit Pablo at La Catedral. That potentially proved Pablo’s influential presence in Colombian football—the only thing that the Colombian government was trying to portray as drugs-free. So it is only justified that the government would block Higuita from representing Colombia.
After the death of Pablo Escobar, Colombia was burning. Every small-time drug dealer had become his own boss and chaos reigned supreme. The infamous PEPEs (Perseguidos por Pablo Escobar, which translates to Persecuted by Pablo Escobar), a vigilante group of almost all of Pablo Escobar’s enemies, would kill anyone related to Pablo. Daylight burglary, murder, and bomb blasts were common occurrences. Andres Escobar and his fiancée narrowly escaped a bomb blast. Andres was about to move to Milan after the World Cup. The bomb blast unsettled him even further. Chonto Herrera’s three-year-old son was kidnapped. It was a complete nightmare on all fronts.
Colombian players still managed to suit up and appear for the finals. Their first match was against Romania. Barrabas and Leonel passed the ball to Valderrama and Rincon, and they moved the ball forward. That’s how Colombia functioned. The Romanian players managed to cut off the midfield link, thereby disrupting Columbia’s passing game, and then hit them on the counter. Romania scored their first goal through one such counter attack. After that,Gheorghe Hagi scored an unbelievable long ranger to double their advantage. There was no turnaround for Colombia.
After such a devastating start, what Colombia needed was a confidence boost from somewhere. But what they had in store was something else. Before the second match against USA, all Colombian players received death threat through their hotel televisions. The message was clear—if you play Barrabas, we will kill you all. Imagine a death threat before the one game that could potentially throw you out of the World Cup. Barrabas was pulled out of the game.
All clubs wanted to see their players play so their value would increase. Regional rivalry reigned supreme over national integration. Riots back home, family under police protection, unsettling death threats—the Colombian players were going through all these. If this was any Hollywood flick, Colombia’s national team would go on to snatch the World Cup. But the person who writes our story is a sadistic narcissist.
The rest of this historic match has been well-documented everywhere. Against the Americans, Valderrama and Asprilla hit woodwork. As John Harkes crossed the ball for teammate Ernie Stewart, a stretching Escobar diverted the ball past a stunned Oscar Cordoba. After this own goal, Escobar’s nine year old nephew exclaimed to his mother, “Mommy they are going to kill Escobar.” Dismay of a child, or may be a nation’s dictate.
A desperate cross, a wrong-footed Cordoba, and an honest mistake. Six gunshots and the death of a gentleman that announced the end of Colombia’s football dreams—at least for a decade.
After the 1994 FIFA World Cup, Escobar decided to return to Colombia instead of visiting relatives in Las Vegas, Nevada. On the evening of July 1, 1994, five days after the elimination of Colombia from the World Cup, Escobar called his friends, and they went to a bar in the El Poblado neighbourhood in Medellin. Then they went to a liquor store. Shortly afterwards, they arrived at the El Indio nightclub. His friends split up. At approximately 3:00 the next morning, Escobar was alone in the parking lot of El Indio, in his car, when three men appeared. They began arguing with him. Two of the men took out handguns. Escobar was shot six times with a .38 caliber pistol. It was reported that the killer shouted “¡Gol!” after every shot, once for each time the South American football commentator said it during the broadcast. The group then drove away in a Toyota pickup truck, leaving Escobar to bleed to death. Escobar was rushed to the hospital where he died 45 minutes later.
The murder was widely believed to be a punishment for the own goal. In the UK, the BBC issued a public apology after its football pundit Alan Hansen commented during the match between Argentina and Romania that “the Argentine defender warrants shooting for a mistake like that”, on July 3, a day after the murder of Escobar.
“Drugs, porn stars, kidnappings, guns,” Metiche laments. “That is how the outside world views Colombian football. Let’s be honest. If Higuita or Asprilla had been shot dead back in 1994, no one would have been surprised, given the company they keep. The shocking thing was that Andres Escobar was always horrified by corruption in the national leagues. Why do the innocent always suffer?”
-  Song Strange things happening everyday, one of the iconic songs of the 40s
-  Songfacts
-  Mass labor strike during Juan Domingo Peron’s reign in Argentina.
-  The era of Colombian league from 1949 to 1954 is popularly known as El Dorado
-  For what it’s worth by Buffalo Springfield, still considered one of the greatest songs of all time
-  El Tiempo.com
- [*] Business Insider
-  Semi Charmed life by Third eye blind, this song showcases American youth’s quest for meths and depleted lifestyle
-  Paisa is someone from northwest of Colombia. Robin Hood Paisa is Escobar’s nickname
-  The Two Escobars– ESPN documentary
-  Sabotage Times