In Aruba, a Cool Breeze and a Loose Game NOORD, Aruba - The concierges at the major Aruban hotels generally do not hesitate when a guest asks for directions. Looking for Baby Beach? Out comes the map, a few quick slashes of a pen to mark the route and off you go. Best way to Little Switzerland? Slash, slash. Heading to Yemanja, the downtown gem of a restaurant with its smoky wood-fired grill? Slash, slash, a "pass the movie theater and you've gone too far" reminder and you're on your way in seconds. But last week, when I posed my question to the woman behind the desk, she hesitated. Then she looked down at the map. Then back at me. "I'm sorry," she said, as she spun the paper map sideways. This isn't a place that I've ever shown someone before. After a few more moments of searching, however, she had traced the route from the hotel to the Frans Figaroa soccer stadium and a few hours later I found myself pushing through the gates with my brother-in-law Brad. It was, to be sure, an unusual way to spend an evening here (standard tourist nights involve restaurants, shopping or casinos), but while many European soccer league seasons were already over, I had overheard a few hotel employees talking about the Aruban soccer league's playoffs just beginning. A quick search of the league's web site confirmed it, and, as annual visitors to the island - I married into a timeshare - it seemed like an intriguing local experience; indeed, after paying 14 florins (about $8) for our tickets, Brad and I quickly determined we were likely the only tourists in the place. In truth, that was perhaps the best part. The game, between La Fama and Brittania, was loose and a bit choppy, the skill-level of the players similar to that of a college game in the United States. The atmosphere, though, was lively. The La Fama fans, many of them in green and having come from Savaneta, on the far side of the island, milled about on one side of the stands while the Brittania fans clustered on the other. There were a few chants and plenty of whistles, many of which were directed at the referee who sent off two Brittania players - the second of which prompted a plastic cup of beer or two to be tossed onto the field from the stands. But generally the feeling in the tiny stadium was genial. There was a cool breeze blowing, the players were running hard and the fans lounged in their seats or hung on the railing along the walkway above the stands. They drank Balashi. They snacked on candy. Ursell Arends, a friendly and outgoing official with the league we met later, said the league's popularity is growing. "Soccer is the king here," he said. It is by far the most popular sport. Baseball is second but it is not even close. Arends and Orson Oehlers, who also chatted with us, are among the people working to increase the league's overall visibility. The website is part of their plan. So are live Internet streams of games as well as some television broadcasts. When the game ended - a 2-0 win for La Fama - the 800 or so fans poured out on to the street, heading for their cars. Brad and I found ours, too, and drove back to the hotel area. There were a few days still left in the family vacation, a few days more for the standard activities - beach, pool, a bingo game over lunch. But we quickly decided we would find our way back to a game again next year. "Absolutely," Brad said as we pulled on to the road. And next time, we won't even need a map.