San Telmo: Bienvenido — Terrace Edition

Words: Roy Piepers

Images: Roy Piepers

Anyone who strolls through Buenos Aires knows San Telmo: cobblestone streets, colonial buildings, bustling plazas, and antique markets.

It might steal the spotlight as one of the birthplaces of tango, but football once had its place too—Club Atlético San Telmo was born in this very neighbourhood in 1904.

Its football stadium, however, has been on the (in)famous Isla Maciel since 1929. At that time, San Telmo was a multicultural, working-class barrio, home to well-established immigrants and their Argentine-born children.

It was close to factories and the port, and tightly linked to dockworkers and artisans.

Just a short distance away, Isla Maciel told a very different story. It became home to recent arrivals from Spain and Italy, often living in makeshift housing near factories on the far side of the Matanza River.

©Roy Piepers/ Terrace Edition. Club Atlético San Telmo vs Club Atlético Colón.

Back then, attending a match meant taking a ferry across the river for San Telmo residents—a journey that some supporters still recall vividly.

Although not truly an island, Isla Maciel was where sailors spent short-term leave, giving it a reputation for vice. “Up until the 1990s, boys and men on the stand at Calle General Las Heras would glance toward the streets during slow matches, noting the ladies of the night working nearby,” one spectator recalled.

Gustavo, one of the supporters I met, told me the neighbourhood has become much safer over the last 20 years, even going there on a Friday evening to play cards with his friends—though many in Buenos Aires proper remain unaware.

Even today, taxis and rideshares often refuse to cross the river.

Walking with him and his friends from La Boca to the stadium, I felt welcomed into the heart of the club, learning its history, Isla Maciel’s story, and the passion of its supporters.

San Telmo is one of over 50 clubs in Buenos Aires competing in Argentina’s top three tiers.

As with many smaller clubs, the connection between supporters is remarkably close. Greetings, chats, and introductions flowed continuously on the way to the stadium—from street vendors to bar owners, to old colleagues and ex-students—everyone just as welcoming as the next.

Following Argentine football tradition, the previa—the pre-match ritual—meant eating, drinking, catching up with friends, and soaking in the atmosphere, until the Barra Brava filled the streets around the stadium and erupted with songs, pounding drums, blaring trumpets, and bursts of fireworks.

It was the sound of matchday beginning, and experiencing this alongside locals just felt magical.

Watching a San Telmo match today is still not for the faint-hearted. The Puente Nicolás Avellaneda bridge makes it walkable from the outskirts of La Boca, but once crossed, it’s clear this is no tourist zone.

Isla Maciel’s population grew and diversified in the 1970s, as residents from other provinces settled there.

That gave the San Telmo vs. Colón de Santa Fe match I attended an unusual atmosphere: “Many San Telmo supporters have parents from Santa Fe, so seeing fans in Colón shirts at a San Telmo match isn’t unusual,” Gustavo told me when I noticed a fan wearing clothing of both teams.

Even Colón fans mixed freely in the stands, without incident.

Despite a ten-match winless run, the atmosphere was as lively as expected in any Argentine match. Their 1–0 victory felt like a small miracle, almost certainly sparing them relegation.

The club’s nickname “El Candombero” comes from “el candombe,” an African dance performed during carnivals across South America—a nod to the team’s multicultural roots.

San Telmo’s jersey colours have an unusual origin. Their first kit was blue and white stripes, but after the opening match—played in rain and mud—the wife and daughters of founder Francisco Pantarotto washed the shirts, and the blue dye bled into the white, leaving a sky-blue shade.

Rather than replace them, the club embraced the accident, and the blue-and-celeste colours remain its identity today.

The club’s greatest moment came in 1976, their only year in Argentina’s top flight, when Boca Juniors were beaten 3–1 at Huracán’s stadium, since their own ground was deemed too small for such a match.

San Telmo even boasts some illustrious names. Carlos Peucelle, the right winger who was part of River Plate’s famous “La Máquina” in the 1930s and was central to River’s ‘Millonarios’ nickname after a then-record 10,000-peso transfer, began his career at San Telmo.

He even played in the first World Cup final in Uruguay.

Another notable name was Oreste Corbatta, a star of the 1957 Copa América–winning “Carasucias” though he arrived in the twilight of his career.

If the nickname and colours define the club’s soul, its stadium anchors it in Isla Maciel. Estadio Dr. Osvaldo Baletto is named after a San Telmo doctor who rose from team physician to president, beginning in 1942

He played a key role in the construction of all the stadium’s stands in 1956. The Las Heras stand was built using parts of Platense’s wooden velodrome stand, an arrangement made when goalkeeper Enrique Rodolfo Schmidt transferred, along with a 15,000-peso fee, boosting capacity to 15,000.

Originally called Estadio San Telmo, it was renamed in Baletto’s honour in 1983 and now holds about 10,000.

The streets of Isla Maciel are not easy to walk, and its reputation keeps many away. Yet on matchdays, the barrio comes alive in colours of blue and celeste, echoing with songs that can be heard across the river.

San Telmo’s story is one of survival against the odds—of a club and community that refuse to be forgotten.

In the end, that stubborn resilience is its greatest victory.