Pressed into the sodden crowd, I heard a whoosh and a crack. I spun around, fearing the worst; in the US, you can never be too sure whether a loud bang is a backfiring scooter or a gunshot.
But seeing the red spark and grey streak in the air, I realised: it was a firework shot into the air by one of the 5,000 Argentina fans who’d taken over Times Square ahead of the World Cup final in the New York/New Jersey Stadium.
To say the crowd brought the place to a standstill doesn’t do the pre-game ‘Banderazo’ party justice.
Traffic was brought to a halt as fans took over. Police closed entire streets as they struggled to control the hordes of blue-and-white-striped supporters climbing on top of postboxes.
After Argentina’s bad-tempered semi-final win over England, it would be tempting for me, as a Londoner, to stand on the sidelines with a shake of my head.
I mean, one of the crowd’s favourite songs is about winning for ‘Maradona and Las Malvinas (The Falkland Islands),’ and another just goes, “he that doesn’t jump is an Englishman.”
But the energy of a Banderazo is infectious. And, under the lashing rain, I found it impossible not to bounce with the crowds and laugh at the wild scenes.
At one point, a couple of tough-looking blokes in a vintage Ford Mustang got trapped between the fans. Every time the driver revved his noisy engine, the crowd went wild, cheering and dancing around the car.
When a police cruiser with its sirens blaring started moving through the crowd, they clambered onto each other’s shoulders and marched behind it like a conga line.
Fans were singing and dancing in local pizzerias and burger joints; they chanted at each other across traffic lights and banged drums down side streets.
The torrential rain did nothing to dampen the atmosphere; if anything, it heightened it.
To give a sense of what it was like, I’d encourage you to imagine the craziest concert you’ve ever been to and combine that with the wildest football game. But even then, I’m still not quite getting the intensity of the mayhem across to you.
Walking through the crowds, I saw men and women of all ages. One moment, there was a 9-month-old being cradled by their mother to my right; the next, a group of lads smoking something from a wine bottle.
Flags were waved, and people trembled with emotion as friends held them aloft to chant songs.
Even in a place like New York—which, it’s fair to say, is used to seeing some crazy stuff—you could tell the locals were blown away by just how many fans had descended on Times Square and just how hard they were partying.
But, eventually, the city that never sleeps had to reassert some control.
Distinctly non-festive NYPD officers started barking instructions at the crowds, and people slowly dispersed.
Sodden from the rain but still with smiles on their faces, they moved away from New York’s most famous strip.
No doubt, if they win against Spain, they’ll be back, and the scenes will be even wilder.