It turns out, unbeknownst to me, that I've bought a pretty special ticket that allows me to mingle with other fans and enjoy cocktails and hors d'oeuvres in Club Empresa, the team's VIP lounge, before heading to my seat.
I showed my ticket at the door, they make me sign my name to the registry, and I proceed to head in, before I'm stopped by the hostess.
She says something I can't quite make out - my Spanish skills aren't the best – and she calls over a colleague.
"There is a dress code, and you are not allowed to wear sporting shirts or scarves in the club," she tells me in English.
I kindly explained to her that I didn't know my match ticket gave me access to the VIP lounge, and that if she would just allow me to walk through the club and to the stadium so I could get to my seat that I would appreciate it.
"We don't let people into the stadium through the club until 60 minutes before the game starts," she said.
"Can't you make an exception in my case," I asked.
"I'm afraid not," she retorted.
I'm peeved. What do they want me to do? Walk around the stadium and come back in half an hour?
"Listen," I say, loosing my patience. "I think it's unreasonable to tell someone they can't wear a Barcelona shirt or scarf to one of their games. Doesn't that seem ridiculous to you?"
"But this is the club lounge, and to ensure the comfort for VIPs and distinguished guests such as yourself before the match, we have a dress code," she answered back.
I'm flattered that they considered me a VIP, but I reiterate to her I just want to go to the game and would they kindly let me through so I could get to my seat.
She then goes to the back before quickly returning with a sports jacket in her hand.
"If the gentleman would kindly put this on, he would be allowed to enter the club," she said.
I roll my eyes at her.
"You can't be serious?" I ask.
"Because you are wearing a jersey, we require you to wear a jacket, senor," she replies.
Unbelievable. So, I'm forced to put on a jacket because I'm wearing the jersey of the team I'm paying to see play, but the guy ahead of me in line who was wearing a Bart Simpson t-shirt, he gets in no questions asked.
That makes a lot of sense.
I put the thing on, hand them my scarf and begin to eat and drink them out of house and home by swigging back beers and devouring the hors d'oeuvres - screw with me, will you?
The waiters are glad to see me leave when they finally open the doors and let us through to the stadium. I hand them back the jacket (with a wine spill on the sleeve), collect my scarf and head to my seat.
As for the game itself, only about 20,000 spectators showed up - Barcelona had already wrapped up first place in their round-robin group and had nothing to play for, so they decided to field their 'B' team, which meant no Messi, Henry, Puyol, Xavi or any of the regular starters.
Shakhtar earned a 3-2 win, solidifying their hold on third place in the group and ending Barcelona's 20-game winning streak.
Next up is the Clasico between Barca and Real Madrid on Saturday. I can hardly wait.
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