La caseta de la 45: fútbol y aguardiente a las 6 a.m.
It's 5:50 in the morning in Envigado. The sky is still gray and the cool air of the Aburrá Valley chills you to the bone. The streets are empty, except for a couple of men walking their dogs and the distant noise of the first minibuses. But if you head to the corner of Calle 45 with Carrera 40, there's a place where the light is already on and the smell of grilled chorizo cuts through the mist. Inside, an old Transversal mounted to the wall with wire shows the pre-match coverage. There's a man in his 60s, with an apron stained with coffee and grease, serving aguardiente in small plastic cups. It's 6:00 a.m. and this is not a dream: it's Don Darío's caseta, the secular temple of Envigado fans who rise early with their passion on full display.
This article is not for the tourist looking for the perfect photo of the Parque Principal or for those who want to see the Puente de Occidente. This is for those who want to feel the real pulse of the city, the one that doesn't appear in guides or Instagram reels. Here we tell you what it's like to watch a match at 6 in the morning (yes, BetPlay League schedules can be crazy), have a drink before breakfast, and feel part of a community governed by its own codes. If you arrive with respect, they'll adopt you. If you arrive in a hurry, you'd better keep walking.
📌 Transparency
This article contains sponsored/affiliate links. We may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you.
Spanish Bootcamp Online
What exactly is "la caseta de la 45"?
Just to be clear: we're not talking about an elegant bar or a gastro-pub with LED lights. La caseta de la 45 is a neighborhood kiosk, the kind we call "caseta" or "tienda de barrio" in Medellín, but with a special twist: it has become the official meeting point for a faction of the Envigado F.C. supporters before home matches, and also for watching away games when the team plays in another city.
The place is small: about four plastic tables, stackable chairs that stick to the floor, a fridge that makes more noise than an old truck engine, and the counter where Don Darío, the owner, has been serving coffee, soda, and, on match days, aguardiente since 5:30 a.m. for over 25 years. There's no big sign. In fact, there's no sign with a name at all. If you don't know, you won't see it. Neighbors just say "go to old Darío's caseta" and that's enough.
What makes this place special isn't the infrastructure, but the ritual. On match days, especially when Envigado plays at home in the Estadio Polideportivo Sur, the caseta opens at 5:00 a.m. The most loyal fans, those who know the roster by heart and argue about the coach's tactics as if they were managers, start arriving at 5:45. The first aguardiente is ordered, a "calentao" (rice mixed with egg, shredded beef, and hogao, a classic of paisa cuisine) is shared, and the pre-match buildup begins. By 7:00 a.m., when the referee blows the whistle to start, there are already 15 to 20 people crowded around the Transversal
The owner: Don Darío, a character from another time
Don Darío Giraldo (his real name, and he'll tell you himself he doesn't like his surname in the media because "it brings more problems than benefits") is 64 years old. He was born in the La Paz neighborhood of Envigado and has lived his entire life within ten blocks of where the caseta stands. He's been an Envigado F.C. fan since the team existed as a neighborhood club in the 80s, long before it became the talent factory known today for developing players like James Rodríguez or Juan Fernando Quintero.
"I'm not one of those who switch teams based on trends," says Don Darío as he serves a coffee with panela. "I'm from Envigado. When the team was in the B league, I went. When they lost 5-0, I went. Now that a kid goes to Europe, I still go. Here you don't come to watch them win, you come to watch them play." That philosophy is what has built the community around the caseta. "Fair-weather fans" (those who only show up when the team is doing well) are not tolerated. Here you come to suffer, to celebrate, and to drink aguardiente, in that order.
Don Darío's relationship with the fans goes beyond business. He knows the names of most of their children. He knows who lost their job, who got divorced, and who's going through a tough time. In his caseta, those who have no money don't pay, but the code is clear: if you can someday, you pay double. There's no written record, but nobody dares to fail. "This isn't a business, it's a social service," he says with a laugh, wiping his hands on his apron.
The sound scene: shouts, radio, and glasses of aguardiente at 6 a.m.
If you need silence to have breakfast, this is not your place. La caseta de la 45 is a complete sensory experience. At 6 in the morning, the sound is a chaotic but harmonious mix:
- The radio: Don Darío has an old battery-powered radio tuned to the local station that broadcasts the matches. The announcer shouts with a contagious passion, and the fans comment on every play out loud, as if the radio didn't exist.
- The shouts: There's no match without a collective "¡uyyyyy!" when the opposing team has a scoring chance. And if Envigado scores, the shout can be heard three blocks away. The neighbors are used to it: they know that if they hear screams at 7:30 a.m., it means the team scored a goal.
- The sound of glasses: Aguardiente is served in small plastic cups, the kind used for coffee. The "chin-chin" of toasts is constant. You don't toast for the goal, you toast for life. The goal is just the excuse.
- Tactical debates: Between drinks, heated arguments break out: "Why did he take off the number 9?", "That coach is useless", "The kid from the U-20 should be playing". Nobody gets offended; it's part of the ritual.
The curious thing is that, despite the aguardiente, nobody gets scandalously drunk. There's an unwritten limit: those who overdo it don't come back. Don Darío is strict about that. "We come here to watch soccer, not to cause trouble," he says. And the fans respect him because they know that if this space is lost, there's no other like it.
What to do: the complete early-morning soccer experience
If you want to experience la caseta de la 45, it's not enough to just show up and order a coffee. There's an order, a liturgy that must be followed to be accepted as part of the group. Here's the step-by-step:
Arrive early, but not too early
On home match days (usually Saturdays or Sundays at 7:00 a.m. or 8:00 a.m., depending on the Dimayor schedule), the caseta opens at 5:00 a.m. Arriving at 5:30 is ideal: there's space, Don Darío is in a good mood, and you can chat with the regulars before the whole crowd arrives. Arriving at 6:30 is risky: there might be no chairs left and the atmosphere is already fired up. Arriving after 7:00 is for those who just want to watch the match without the buildup, but they miss the best part.
Order the "calentao" and the aguardiente
The signature dish of the caseta is the "calentao," which is only served during match hours. It's not that Don Darío doesn't want to sell it on other days; he simply doesn't make it. The caseta's calentao includes rice, fried egg, shredded beef (which Don Darío buys on Fridays at the market square), homemade hogao, and a touch of cumin that gives it an unmistakable flavor. It's served in a deep aluminum plate, with a grilled arepa on the side. The reference price in August 2026 is $12,000 COP (about $3 USD), which is a steal: it's incredibly cheap for what it is.
Aguardiente is sold by the glass ($5,000 COP) or by the bottle ($45,000 COP). Most people order by the glass, because it's about sharing, not drinking a whole bottle alone. If you're a foreigner and not used to aguardiente, Don Darío recommends ordering a "media de verde" (a small bottle of green aguardiente, which is the smoothest) and mixing it with coffee or cola soda. But beware: if you order aguardiente with Red Bull, you'll get weird looks. That's not done here.
The code of honor: how to order without getting weird looks
- Greet first: Upon arriving, say "buenos días, Don Darío" and greet those present with a "¿qué más?" or a "¿cómo va la cosa?". This is not optional. If you walk in without greeting, they'll ignore you for the rest of the day.
- Don't ask for "shots": In Colombia, you don't say "shots," you say "copas" or "tragos". Asking for "a shot of aguardiente" gives you away as a tourist. And being a tourist isn't bad, but if you want to blend in, use the local vocabulary.
- Don't criticize the team if you're not a fan: If you're a Nacional or Medellín fan and you come to the caseta to watch an Envigado match, you can enter, but don't even think about mocking the team. Envigado fans are long-suffering and proud. Mockery is an offense. You can speak well of your team, but not badly of theirs.
- Offer a round: If you arrive and sit with a group, the proper thing is to offer a round of aguardiente or at least a coffee. It doesn't have to be expensive, but the gesture counts. The locals will see it as a sign of respect.
- Don't ask for Wi-Fi: There's no Wi-Fi. There's no decent cell signal. The caseta is a refuge for disconnecting. If you need to be glued to your phone, you'd better stay home.
Stay until the end
The match lasts 90 minutes, but the caseta experience lasts longer. After the final whistle, there are two scenarios: if Envigado won, there's a celebration with another aguardiente and the match is analyzed until Don Darío decides to close (usually at 11:00 a.m.). If they lost, there's mourning: silence, long faces, and a "well, next match will be better" that everyone repeats like a mantra. In both cases, nobody leaves before the end. Staying until the end is part of the code of honor.
Where to eat or drink: beyond the caseta
If you're inspired to visit la caseta de la 45 and want to explore the area, Envigado has a gastronomic offering that combines the traditional with the modern. Here are some nearby recommendations, all within 15 minutes on foot or by minibus:
La Plaza de Mercado de Envigado
About 15 blocks from the caseta, the Plaza de Mercado is the gastronomic heart of the municipality. There you'll find everything from the classic "bandeja paisa" on the second floor (where stalls compete for the best price, with dishes from $18,000 COP) to fresh juices from the most exotic fruits you've ever seen. If you go after the caseta, order a "jugo de guanábana" and a "huevo perico" (scrambled eggs with tomato and onion). It's the perfect combination to settle the aguardiente.
El Parque Principal de Envigado
The park is the meeting point for the people of Envigado. There are several restaurants around it, but what's most worth i


