Watch The Atlas Lions’ Victory in Rabat Local Bar – “Cheers!”

In meditative concentration, the patrons are loud in their vocal support of the Lions and joyously singing football anthems.

The atmosphere is electrifying and tense. Beer cans are gulped one after the other. “I’m already tired,” said the waitress. “I have to run up and down. Everybody is either extremely excited or drunk. Two customers have just left without paying me. I now have to pay for their drinks out of my own pocket.”

“They ordered two 50 ml beers –that is MAD 74, sh*it,” she exclaims before she herself runs to serve another table.

The game was bound to be fast and furious. With each near-misses, the drama and tension were inevitable, until the long awaited moment; “GOAL! “everybody shouts in synchronicity.

The crowd stands in an abrupt manner, slamming their beers on the tables, their eyes wet from both laughter and tears.

Two strangers, sharing a table, stand, gaze at each other, and spontaneously hug and jumping up and down feverishly, crying “Russia, Russia, Russia.”

It takes the crowd about 15 minutes for its excitement to calm down. The cigarette smoke twists in graceful curls, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights, as the waitress, now clothed in a Moroccan flag, serves the drinks, now at ease, appearing to be much more energetic and happy than before.

One goal is not enough. The supporters still thirst for more and strive to see the opponents defeated.

Along with the lingering smell of alcohol and cigarettes, the scent of victory hovers in the air. All kinds of emotions stir, as the men joke speak to each other constantly, the crowd roars, and the drinks continue to flow.

Strange cries echo in the bar with each missed score from the home team and each potential goal from the opponents. And then it happens again, the Atlas Lions scored a second goal in the same half. The whoops magnify. The Moroccan flag is hoisted in the air, and vodka is served as the crowd is now sure Morocco will fly to Russia.

“Russia and Putin are waiting,” the young and old come together and chant throughout the half-time.

A fan picks up his phone and calls a friend. “We ****ing did it. I told you we would. You lost the bet. A week’s lunch is on you,” his words are followed by frenzied laughter.

The commentator announces the start of the second half. The crowd, perpetually excited and perpetually anxious, keep their eyes on the screen.

Abruptly, a man, barely keeping his balance stands and yells: “Just end the game, god damn it. It’s clear that we won.” His eagerness isn’t reciprocated by the fans. “Shut up. We want another goal,” voices from invisible corners yelled.

The host announces the end of the game. Morocco wins two-zero. The fans breathe a sigh of relief across the bar; the cries, the dancing flags and more cans of beer follow.

The celebrate the victory with shots of vodka and talk about buying tickets to Russia. Some customers leave immediately to share their happiness and delight in the streets. Others stay, restless in their drunken haze and newly renewed sense of patriotism and love for the Atlas Lions.