World Cup / USA 1994 : WORLD CUP JOURNAL : Goooaalll Tending : The <i> real</i> contest was to see which fans could scream it out better.

G ooooooood golly!

Edgard Ariza’s goal was simply to get to the Rose Bowl in time for the World Cup match between the United States and Colombia as he walked through Old Town Pasadena on Wednesday.

Suddenly, a shout from a Colorado Boulevard pool hall made him stop in his tracks.

“Gooooooaalll!” was the cry.

To soccer fans, that is the drawn-out, trademark yell of a Spanish-language sportscaster whose excitement becomes contagious when a goal is scored on international soccer broadcasts.

Ariza, a 35-year-old engineering draftsman from Las Vegas, stuck his head inside Q’s Billiard Club. He was surprised to see that a contest was under way to determine whether U.S. or Colombian fans could yell it out the best.

U.S. supporter Jorge Sepulveda--a 27-year-old benefits eligibility worker from Sylmar--had stars and stripes painted on his face and an American flag draped over his shoulders. He took a deep breath and bellowed a five-second “Gooooooaalll!”

Colombia backer Miguel Mercado, 28, a teacher from Los Angeles, let loose with a six-second shout. Paco Chavez, 46, a real estate agent from Montebello supporting the U.S. team, screamed out a four-second yell that sounded like “G-g-g-g-gooooaalll!”

A dozen contestants from the two countries were lined up. So Ariza joined them.

None could match the long-winded “Goooooolll!” of Univision play-by-play announcer Andres Cantor, who memorializes soccer gols (as the word is spelled in Spanish) on about 75 games a year. In fact, for a time it sounded like the winners might be Q Club waitresses Nina Booth, 22, and Lisa McDonald, 21. They turned the word into a 14-second scream.

When it was Ariza’s turn, he combined the G-word with the names of his two favorite Colombian players--Carlos Valderrama and Freddy Rincon. And for good measure he tossed in his (inaccurate, as it turned out) prediction of a 4-1 Colombian win. When he finished 15 seconds later, the crowd of about 50 onlookers went wild.

Ariza won two tickets to a World Cup second round match on July 3. He got in the last word, too.

“Thhaaaaaannnnnks!” he shouted.

*

Sure, World Cup fans can patiently endure the hassles with traffic, parking, long lines and sweltering heat. But soccer aficionados were flabbergasted when guards confiscated their snacks and water bottle caps, throwing away seemingly benign goodies--like apples--after a security pat down.

Before the games began, World Cup officials released a list of do’s and don’ts. For fear of mischief-makers, alcohol, poles and umbrellas were banned from the Rose Bowl. Firecrackers, flares and smoke bombs were also definite no-nos, World Cup officials declared.

At security checkpoints, zealous guards took apples, potato chips and pretzels from families with small children. An apple, World Cup spokeswoman Sue Carpenter said, could readily become a projectile. “But pretzels? Can I get back to you?”

Carpenter never called back.

Confiscating a bag of pretzels on Wednesday, security guard Dianna Valdez said: “You can throw a pretzel and you can hurt someone.”

Neil Cannon showed up clutching several large water bottles, only to be told that he must remove all the caps before he was allowed in the stadium.

“I don’t understand this--my friends came to the last game and they told them they could take in bottles,” said Cannon, a chief executive officer of a sales promotion agency.

Purple-bereted security guard Donnell Warren, 27, explained that water bottles, too, could be used as a weapon.

“If you throw the water bottles with caps, it could have water and really hurt people. We take anything that could be used as a weapon,” Warren said.

Sports fans can buy water bottles--with the caps-- inside the stadium, Warren said. But they were prohibited from bringing them inside. “I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them,” he said.

*

Merchandise at the souvenir stands moves as fast as a punctured soccer ball, vendors say. Most fans come to gawk at the prices. A sweat shirt with Mexico emblazoned across the chest costs $165. A lightweight jacket with leather sleeves is $575.

“They want $60 for a long-sleeve T-shirt? $575 for a jacket?” said Erica Cohen, 33, her eyes turning into large green saucers. “I don’t think so.”

Cohen, a Westchester resident, had shelled out $40 for her ticket six months ago. She would have been tempted by an inexpensive trinket, something that would later remind her of the famous game but nothing seemed to fall into that category.

“It’s a business,” she sighed. “but still everybody should be able to buy a little piece of the World Cup.”

Vendors, who declined to give their names, said that they had been told that they would sell about $25,000 in merchandise each day. Instead, some said they were selling less than half that amount.

On Wednesday, soccer fans demanded two items: sunglasses and blond wigs to resemble the frizzy, Phyllis Diller-like hair of a popular Colombian player, Carlos Valderrama. But most declined to fork over $99 for the official World Cup sunglasses. And none of the vendors carried any wigs.