I concluded my World Cup viewing at Fado in downtown Seattle. While it wasn’t packed to the point where you couldn’t walk (I have seen it that crowded for USA games before, including qualifiers), it was certainly highly populated. The numbers wearing German white/red/black/yellow and Argentine white/blue were almost equal, but the neutrals were overwhelmingly in favor of Germany. Interestingly, the most common jersey I saw was that of the Seattle Sounders (including the one I was wearing). It warmed my heart to see so much hometown support even in the midst of the biggest game in world sport.
The game was edgy, as were the fans, which was understandable with so much on the line. Germany’s goal near the end of extra time to give them the lead was greeted with the largest cheer for any non-U.S. or Colombia goal that I had heard since the first week of the tournament. And it was a fantastic goal, too. Even some of the Argentinian fans applauded the beauty of it, though their faces were stone. In the end, that one goal was enough, and “We Are the Champions” was blared from the speakers as the final whistle blew. For the first time since 1990 (and the first time ever as a unified country), Germany were world champions.
Later that day, my parents and I attended the first professional soccer game in the world after the World Cup - the Sounders-Timbers match at CenturyLink Field. Living in Walla Walla for the past three years, I’ve hardly had any opportunities to go to Sounders games, and I’d forgotten how much I’d missed them. The electric crowd was matched (and, in some cases, surpassed) chant-for-chant by the large Timbers Army contingent. The fire and fireworks were dramatic (and American) touches to the match, although in the area in which I was sitting ash rained down after the fireworks. The match ended 2-0 to Seattle, and I was happy to join in the celebration for Seattle’s second win over Portland in the space of five days.
During the course of this wonderful month of soccer, oe thing that struck me is that, despite significant growth in recent years, soccer is still very much a niche sport in this country. The World Cup may bring out the biggest crowds and a bunch of “bandwagon fans,” but even then there it is apparent that those who pay attention to the entire World Cup are definitely in the minority. Even among those paying close attention to the competition, there was still a clear difference between those who were along for the World Cup ride and those who watch European soccer and/or MLS regularly.
In this way, the World Cup gives a flattering impression of the level of this country’s love for soccer. But this World Cup also provided the first opportunity in 20 years for Americans to see truly top-level soccer in a somewhat-friendly time zone (with all due respect to MLS, the World Cup is a considerable step up in quality). Normally, one must get up at 7am on weekends to watch the English League play, and in the previous World Cup the games started anywhere from 4:30am to 11:30am Pacific Time. This year, the earliest games were 9am in the west, and the latest game (on the tournament’s second day) started at 6pm. And for those further east, the games were even more accessible, with none starting any earlier than noon on the east coast.
The favorable time slots gave many the opportunity to watch great soccer for the first time, and contributed to huge audiences for the games. Everyone I talked to said that bar/viewing party crowds were bigger than they had been in 2010, and many said that the level of support they’d seen for all the games (not just the United States’) would have been unthinkable eight or twelve years ago.
Major tournaments serve as a perfect introductory stage for newcomers to fall in love with the beautiful game. It was one of them which got me hooked, all the way back during the 2004 European Championships. And even though this World Cup is over, plenty more tournaments are coming up in the next two years: the 2015 FIFA Women’s World Cup (held in Canada, with the final in Vancouver), the 2015 CONCACAF Gold Cup (the North American championship, held in the United States), Euro 2016 (the European championships, expanded to 24 teams for the first time), Copa America 2016 (the 100-year anniversary of the first South American championship, held in the United States as an all-Americas tournament), and the 2016 Olympic Tournament in Rio de Janeiro. It is my hope that many will flock out to support these tournaments just as they came to support the World Cup. And while most will sadly stop paying attention to the beautiful game until the next major tournament, some will be converted, like I was, and start watching more club soccer year-round. And who knows? We yet may turn this country as soccer-mad as I am.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
SEATTLE - Home, and a Dragon's tale
I was so happy when I saw the Seattle skyline rise up in the distance on Thursday. While I may have seen some incredible places, met some interesting people, and thoroughly enjoyed my trip, there is nothing like coming home to my favorite city in the world.
For the third-place game two days later (the first during my time in Seattle), I went to the George and Dragon, Fremont’s famous soccer pub. This wasn’t my first time at the English pub - I had previously watched my favorite club, Arsenal, play their match against rivals Tottenham Hotspur in the FA Cup’s third round (round of 64) this past January at 9am. Even at that early hour, the place was busy. Arsenal supporters took up one side of the bar and Tottenham supporters the other. The two sets of fans didn’t really interact much, but the atmosphere was electric, and by 11am I was celebrating along with the rest of the right side of the bar as Arsenal walked out 2-0 winners. In short, I had high expectations.
However, it was a quiet day at the George and Dragon for the third place game. While there were a lot of people there, only a couple were wearing Brazilian colors, and only two were in Dutch orange. The place was rather quiet. After the humiliation their team received at the hands of the Germans, the Brazilian fans were more subdued than usual, and two Dutch goals in the first fifteen minutes didn’t really help matters. Still, I had fun. The drinks and food were good, and I spent the match talking about soccer with my parents and two Brazilian men sitting next to us. In the end, the Dutch won bronze with a 3-0 victory (the first time any team has been shut out in the third place game since Bulgaria lost to Sweden 4-0 in 1994), and the crowd exited rapidly.
I then went to talk to the bartenders. Because I had been away from Seattle for the entire World Cup, and I wanted to know what had been going on in my hometown during the competition.
The people working at the bar were very kind, and willing to talk about all the fun experiences they’d had working during the World Cup. The George and Dragon was packed for many matches of the World Cup, especially in the group stage. One of the women told me that she had to work every day for the first two weeks to deal with the crowds. Everyone showed up full of hope to watch their team. As the tournament went on, some of the crowds thinned as teams got eliminated, but the showing has been very strong for the entire competition.
Aside from the expected masses of Americans and Englishmen, there had been huge contingents of Germans, Argentinians, Dutch, Brazilians, Mexicans, and Colombians. As the tournament progressed, a lot of people came to show CONCACAF (North and Central America’s soccer federation) solidarity with surprises Costa Rica as well. But the biggest surprises of the tournament were the large numbers of Iranians and Algerians, both of whom took up the entire outside deck for their teams’ matches. The Iranians in particular were a delight to host, dancing and cheering throughout their (short) stay in the tournament.
I then asked for particular stories or moments that had stuck in the memories of the bartenders. The first one that came to mind was a fan that they had all dubbed “Tambourine Lady.” A Brazilian woman had come in for a match (they forgot which one) with a tambourine that she banged so hard that it broke mid-match. The bartenders were somewhat grateful for this, as it had been loud and annoying. Another fan that came to mind was a Brazilian man from Brazil’s 7-1 loss to Germany, who was hitting things with his shirt on the way out and ended up hitting one of the bartenders in the face.
In general, the Brazilians were not the best-liked supporters. While they did show up in the biggest numbers, they were also the most rowdy, and not always in a good way. In contrast, the bartenders’ favorite fans were those who supported the Brazilians’ third-place opponents - the Dutch. Whenever the Oranje played, orange filled the bar, along with scarves and feather boas everywhere (the one talking to me told me that there would be orange feathers everywhere for days after a Dutch game).
For the third-place game two days later (the first during my time in Seattle), I went to the George and Dragon, Fremont’s famous soccer pub. This wasn’t my first time at the English pub - I had previously watched my favorite club, Arsenal, play their match against rivals Tottenham Hotspur in the FA Cup’s third round (round of 64) this past January at 9am. Even at that early hour, the place was busy. Arsenal supporters took up one side of the bar and Tottenham supporters the other. The two sets of fans didn’t really interact much, but the atmosphere was electric, and by 11am I was celebrating along with the rest of the right side of the bar as Arsenal walked out 2-0 winners. In short, I had high expectations.
However, it was a quiet day at the George and Dragon for the third place game. While there were a lot of people there, only a couple were wearing Brazilian colors, and only two were in Dutch orange. The place was rather quiet. After the humiliation their team received at the hands of the Germans, the Brazilian fans were more subdued than usual, and two Dutch goals in the first fifteen minutes didn’t really help matters. Still, I had fun. The drinks and food were good, and I spent the match talking about soccer with my parents and two Brazilian men sitting next to us. In the end, the Dutch won bronze with a 3-0 victory (the first time any team has been shut out in the third place game since Bulgaria lost to Sweden 4-0 in 1994), and the crowd exited rapidly.
I then went to talk to the bartenders. Because I had been away from Seattle for the entire World Cup, and I wanted to know what had been going on in my hometown during the competition.
The people working at the bar were very kind, and willing to talk about all the fun experiences they’d had working during the World Cup. The George and Dragon was packed for many matches of the World Cup, especially in the group stage. One of the women told me that she had to work every day for the first two weeks to deal with the crowds. Everyone showed up full of hope to watch their team. As the tournament went on, some of the crowds thinned as teams got eliminated, but the showing has been very strong for the entire competition.
Aside from the expected masses of Americans and Englishmen, there had been huge contingents of Germans, Argentinians, Dutch, Brazilians, Mexicans, and Colombians. As the tournament progressed, a lot of people came to show CONCACAF (North and Central America’s soccer federation) solidarity with surprises Costa Rica as well. But the biggest surprises of the tournament were the large numbers of Iranians and Algerians, both of whom took up the entire outside deck for their teams’ matches. The Iranians in particular were a delight to host, dancing and cheering throughout their (short) stay in the tournament.
I then asked for particular stories or moments that had stuck in the memories of the bartenders. The first one that came to mind was a fan that they had all dubbed “Tambourine Lady.” A Brazilian woman had come in for a match (they forgot which one) with a tambourine that she banged so hard that it broke mid-match. The bartenders were somewhat grateful for this, as it had been loud and annoying. Another fan that came to mind was a Brazilian man from Brazil’s 7-1 loss to Germany, who was hitting things with his shirt on the way out and ended up hitting one of the bartenders in the face.
In general, the Brazilians were not the best-liked supporters. While they did show up in the biggest numbers, they were also the most rowdy, and not always in a good way. In contrast, the bartenders’ favorite fans were those who supported the Brazilians’ third-place opponents - the Dutch. Whenever the Oranje played, orange filled the bar, along with scarves and feather boas everywhere (the one talking to me told me that there would be orange feathers everywhere for days after a Dutch game).
Friday, July 11, 2014
PORTLAND - To Support and Serve
While they may support a team that I despise, the Timbers Army would be considered by many as the standard among MLS supporters groups when it comes to the combination of rabid fandom and community service. Their tifos and their log-cutting antics are known league-wide, and the Army, often through 107 Independent Supporters Trust (107IST, the governing body for the Timbers Army) gives a lot to improve the soccer community. One of the most interesting bits of community service that they do is Operation Pitch Invasion (OPI), a project by the Timbers Army to improve/construct soccer fields around the Portland area.
I met with Garrett, a member of the Timbers Army at the Horse Brass pub, an English bar where a bunch of the Timbers players used to meet up during the team’s USL days. He told be that OPI began once it became apparent that Portland was going to get an MLS team. The Timbers Army had been around since 2001 (although they were named Cascade Rangers until 2002), but they were, to use Garrett’s words, an “Army without generals.” For the step up to MLS, they wanted to increase organization, as well as increase their presence in the community. At a meeting at Cinema 21, one man, Fernando Machicado, suggested that the group build soccer fields throughout Portland to generate a positive impact on the city and its soccer culture. Everyone loved the idea, and the seeds of OPI were sown.
In Portland, the soccer fields at city parks are, according to Garrett, somewhat underfunded. Even recently, many fields were uneven, dirt, had sprinklers poking out of the ground, or were otherwise less-than-optimal. Improvements were needed, but it didn’t look like the city was going to be able to get to them in the near future.
At first, no one had too much of an idea about how to go about the project. They were able to raise money to help build Harper’s Playground (a playground with wheelchair-friendly equipment, named for the disabled daughter of one of the Timbers Army members), but they didn’t really know how to go about fundraising on a large scale. Garrett told me about how they would occasionally put on small fundraising concerts to raise a little money. But they really got the ball rolling when they started doing “Art Takeovers,” or design shows where they get local designers to create pennants/flags with Timbers designs/slogans and auction them off.
With the money raised from events such as these, OPI was really able to move forward with their plans. One of their proudest achievements in recent years has been the building of Bless Field, a 9,000 square foot, all-weather turf field. Named for Hartmut Bless, a founding member of Timbers Army who had passed away in 2009, the field was designed specifically for youth soccer, and is located in the highly-diverse New Columbia district of Portland. By obtaining Section 501(c)(3) status (which meant that corporations would be able to receive tax deductions for their donations), OPI was able to mobilize many groups, including 107IST, Adidas, and Portland Timbers, to donate generously to the completion of the field.
But OPI has also proved that they don’t need big sums of money to make a positive contribution to the Portland soccer community. Garrett told me that OPI would sometimes gather volunteers and go out to existing fields for a couple hours to make improvements. They’ll flatten out the field, replace dangerous sprinkler heads, and do various other projects to make the fields better and safer. I thanked him profusely for this work, having received a big gash myself from a stray sprinkler head in a soccer game when I was fourteen. Any organization that works to make sure that this and other field-caused injuries don’t happen to future generations of players earns points in my book.
Of course, Operation Pitch Invasion isn’t the only community outreach arm of Timbers Army. Recently, 107IST donated over $5,000 worth of soccer books to Portland schools, and their “Buy Your Capo (chant leader) A Pint” campaign raised funds for a summer camp for Oregon kids with speech, language, and auditory disabilities. While they may support my team’s rivals, they certainly do a lot to help out their community, and that makes the Timbers Army praiseworthy.
I met with Garrett, a member of the Timbers Army at the Horse Brass pub, an English bar where a bunch of the Timbers players used to meet up during the team’s USL days. He told be that OPI began once it became apparent that Portland was going to get an MLS team. The Timbers Army had been around since 2001 (although they were named Cascade Rangers until 2002), but they were, to use Garrett’s words, an “Army without generals.” For the step up to MLS, they wanted to increase organization, as well as increase their presence in the community. At a meeting at Cinema 21, one man, Fernando Machicado, suggested that the group build soccer fields throughout Portland to generate a positive impact on the city and its soccer culture. Everyone loved the idea, and the seeds of OPI were sown.
In Portland, the soccer fields at city parks are, according to Garrett, somewhat underfunded. Even recently, many fields were uneven, dirt, had sprinklers poking out of the ground, or were otherwise less-than-optimal. Improvements were needed, but it didn’t look like the city was going to be able to get to them in the near future.
At first, no one had too much of an idea about how to go about the project. They were able to raise money to help build Harper’s Playground (a playground with wheelchair-friendly equipment, named for the disabled daughter of one of the Timbers Army members), but they didn’t really know how to go about fundraising on a large scale. Garrett told me about how they would occasionally put on small fundraising concerts to raise a little money. But they really got the ball rolling when they started doing “Art Takeovers,” or design shows where they get local designers to create pennants/flags with Timbers designs/slogans and auction them off.
With the money raised from events such as these, OPI was really able to move forward with their plans. One of their proudest achievements in recent years has been the building of Bless Field, a 9,000 square foot, all-weather turf field. Named for Hartmut Bless, a founding member of Timbers Army who had passed away in 2009, the field was designed specifically for youth soccer, and is located in the highly-diverse New Columbia district of Portland. By obtaining Section 501(c)(3) status (which meant that corporations would be able to receive tax deductions for their donations), OPI was able to mobilize many groups, including 107IST, Adidas, and Portland Timbers, to donate generously to the completion of the field.
But OPI has also proved that they don’t need big sums of money to make a positive contribution to the Portland soccer community. Garrett told me that OPI would sometimes gather volunteers and go out to existing fields for a couple hours to make improvements. They’ll flatten out the field, replace dangerous sprinkler heads, and do various other projects to make the fields better and safer. I thanked him profusely for this work, having received a big gash myself from a stray sprinkler head in a soccer game when I was fourteen. Any organization that works to make sure that this and other field-caused injuries don’t happen to future generations of players earns points in my book.
Of course, Operation Pitch Invasion isn’t the only community outreach arm of Timbers Army. Recently, 107IST donated over $5,000 worth of soccer books to Portland schools, and their “Buy Your Capo (chant leader) A Pint” campaign raised funds for a summer camp for Oregon kids with speech, language, and auditory disabilities. While they may support my team’s rivals, they certainly do a lot to help out their community, and that makes the Timbers Army praiseworthy.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
MILWAUKE II - A thriving indoor scene, and an outdoors revival
For all the stick that we give Seattle weather, we really are quite fortunate. Never, in my entire youth, was the weather so bad during soccer season that I had one of my team’s games cancelled. But, as I’ve found out on this trip, there are places in the country that aren’t as lucky, and sometimes special measures have to be taken to ensure that soccer can continue despite mother nature’s wrath. Probably the best example of this I’ve seen is Milwaukee, where I experienced the world of indoor soccer for the first time.
It started out with a national team game. I had gotten wind a couple days earlier that the USA futsal (indoor soccer) team was playing France in a friendly the day I was there. So, after the World Cup’s opening match, I walked across town to the Milwaukee School of Engineering for the match. The first thing that struck me was how well attended the match was. While I had heard of futsal before, I had never heard anyone in Seattle talk about it, nor had I ever seen a match. But this game packed the (admittedly small) hockey arena of MSOE, with people having to stand on the concourse because all the seats were taken.
The match itself was quite entertaining. The smaller field and reduced team size made for a much faster pace of play, and it was the perfect setting for the showing off of each player’s skill on the ball. In a way, it was like hockey, with teams setting up their offense in the “attacking zone” like they do in hockey, and with the USA bringing their goalie up to be an extra attacker in the final minutes in search of an equalizer. In the end, however, the French emerged with a 5-3 victory.
During the match, I spoke with Forest Richter, a member of American Outlaws Milwaukee. He described the city as “thirsty for soccer.” Milwaukee’s most recent pro team, the Rampage of A-League (the USA’s second division at the time), folded in 2002. Several attempts to get an MLS franchise in the city in the last twenty years have also failed. Despite this, Milwaukee has a rich soccer history and a thriving indoor soccer scene. Brian McBride, a US soccer legend, started his career out with the Rampage, and the current coach of the United States futsal team, Keith Tozer, was the longtime coach for the Wave, Milwaukee’s indoor team. During this time, he was very active in the community, always willing to talk to fans and win them over to indoor soccer, making the sport’s popularity bigger in Milwaukee than it is in many other areas of the country, as was evidenced by the large crowd at the USA-France match.
In many ways, the thriving indoor scene is brought on by the climate in Milwaukee. The harsh winters make playing outdoors year-round impossible, and makes the maintaining of full-sized outdoor fields difficult. Because of this, the city of Milwaukee has very few outdoor fields, especially compared to its (richer) suburbs. This in turn has led to the game becoming a sport for the suburbanites, with the city high school teams constantly struggling against their suburban counterparts and the city teams in the local adult leagues struggling to find spaces to practice and play outside.
There are those spearheading a charge to change this, however. Quite by chance, I stumbled across James Moran as I was leaving MSOE. James is the founder and leader of the Milwaukee Soccer Development Group. The purpose of MSDG is to both show people that they can play soccer on any open space of grass (they don’t need a fully-marked field to play outdoor soccer), and yet at the same time to get more land from the city to create more fields, particularly so that the (largely Latino and African American) city teams in the local adult leagues have a guaranteed place to play. The ultimate goal is to make playing soccer affordable for everyone in the city, and to get the city teams on a level playing field with those from the suburbs.
To do this, MSDG organizes events throughout the Milwaukee area to increase interest in soccer. The one James was promoting at the futsal match was SoccerFest 2014, an event to “promote diversity, sustainability, health and wellness, and fair play” through soccer. The event featured mini-games (footgolf, soccer tennis, etc.), a skills competition, a 3v3 tournament, and “the cage”, a 1v1 game inside a small cage. James told me that he was extremely happy with how supportive the city had been for the event, saying that they had gotten great publicity on the internet and on TV, and that he’d even gotten someone from the Mayor’s office to help promote it. In the end, Moran believed the event had been a success, calling it “one of the best days ever,” and was even more blown away by how much Milwaukee has embraced the World Cup this past month.
It started out with a national team game. I had gotten wind a couple days earlier that the USA futsal (indoor soccer) team was playing France in a friendly the day I was there. So, after the World Cup’s opening match, I walked across town to the Milwaukee School of Engineering for the match. The first thing that struck me was how well attended the match was. While I had heard of futsal before, I had never heard anyone in Seattle talk about it, nor had I ever seen a match. But this game packed the (admittedly small) hockey arena of MSOE, with people having to stand on the concourse because all the seats were taken.
The match itself was quite entertaining. The smaller field and reduced team size made for a much faster pace of play, and it was the perfect setting for the showing off of each player’s skill on the ball. In a way, it was like hockey, with teams setting up their offense in the “attacking zone” like they do in hockey, and with the USA bringing their goalie up to be an extra attacker in the final minutes in search of an equalizer. In the end, however, the French emerged with a 5-3 victory.
During the match, I spoke with Forest Richter, a member of American Outlaws Milwaukee. He described the city as “thirsty for soccer.” Milwaukee’s most recent pro team, the Rampage of A-League (the USA’s second division at the time), folded in 2002. Several attempts to get an MLS franchise in the city in the last twenty years have also failed. Despite this, Milwaukee has a rich soccer history and a thriving indoor soccer scene. Brian McBride, a US soccer legend, started his career out with the Rampage, and the current coach of the United States futsal team, Keith Tozer, was the longtime coach for the Wave, Milwaukee’s indoor team. During this time, he was very active in the community, always willing to talk to fans and win them over to indoor soccer, making the sport’s popularity bigger in Milwaukee than it is in many other areas of the country, as was evidenced by the large crowd at the USA-France match.
In many ways, the thriving indoor scene is brought on by the climate in Milwaukee. The harsh winters make playing outdoors year-round impossible, and makes the maintaining of full-sized outdoor fields difficult. Because of this, the city of Milwaukee has very few outdoor fields, especially compared to its (richer) suburbs. This in turn has led to the game becoming a sport for the suburbanites, with the city high school teams constantly struggling against their suburban counterparts and the city teams in the local adult leagues struggling to find spaces to practice and play outside.
There are those spearheading a charge to change this, however. Quite by chance, I stumbled across James Moran as I was leaving MSOE. James is the founder and leader of the Milwaukee Soccer Development Group. The purpose of MSDG is to both show people that they can play soccer on any open space of grass (they don’t need a fully-marked field to play outdoor soccer), and yet at the same time to get more land from the city to create more fields, particularly so that the (largely Latino and African American) city teams in the local adult leagues have a guaranteed place to play. The ultimate goal is to make playing soccer affordable for everyone in the city, and to get the city teams on a level playing field with those from the suburbs.
To do this, MSDG organizes events throughout the Milwaukee area to increase interest in soccer. The one James was promoting at the futsal match was SoccerFest 2014, an event to “promote diversity, sustainability, health and wellness, and fair play” through soccer. The event featured mini-games (footgolf, soccer tennis, etc.), a skills competition, a 3v3 tournament, and “the cage”, a 1v1 game inside a small cage. James told me that he was extremely happy with how supportive the city had been for the event, saying that they had gotten great publicity on the internet and on TV, and that he’d even gotten someone from the Mayor’s office to help promote it. In the end, Moran believed the event had been a success, calling it “one of the best days ever,” and was even more blown away by how much Milwaukee has embraced the World Cup this past month.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Why the last four matches should be amazing
While this tournament has seen its fair share of surprising results (Mexico drawing Brazil, Algeria and the USA getting through their groups, Costa Rica reaching the last eight for the first time ever), the final four have an incredible pedigree.
BRAZIL - 5-time champions (most in World Cup history) appearing in their 11th semifinal. To impress the magnitude of that on you, this is only the 20th World Cup. Brazil has won 1/4 of all the World Cups, and has been in the last four of more than half. This is their first time in the semifinals since 2002 (when they won it all), which might not seem like a long absence (it is just two Cups), but for Brazil that is an eternity.
GERMANY - 3-time champions (3rd-most in World Cup history) appearing in their 13th semifinal, which gives them the record for the most top-four World Cup finishes. This is their fourth straight semifinal, which is also a record. However, despite all this recent success, Germany hasn't lifted the World Cup since 1990, and hasn't won any major title since the 1996 European Championship. The German fans are desperate for that drought to end.
ARGENTINA - 2-time champions (tied with Uruguay for 4th-most in World Cup history) appearing in their 5th semifinal. This is their first time in the last four since 1990 (the longest drought of this years semifinalists). Interestingly, Argentina has never lost a semifinal in the World Cup. They are seeking their first title since 1986.
NETHERLANDS - The only semifinalists yet to win the World Cup, this will be the 5th semifinal for the Dutch (who were runners-up in 2010). While the Germans have lost more finals, no team has been to the final as many times as the Netherlands (three times) and never won it. The Dutch, for their illustrious reputation as a soccer giant, have only ever won one major title, the 1988 European Championship. Like their semifinal opponents Argentina, the Netherlands also has a fantastic record in World Cup semifinals, only losing one of their previous four (to Brazil in 1998).
Fantastic pedigrees like that should be enough to whet anyone's appetite for the last four. But this year, we get even more: every single semifinal match and potential final/3rd-place game is oozing with history that should make these clashes sing.
SEMIFINALS
Germany-Brazil: - Two of the three most successful nations in World Cup history, and yet this is only the second time ever they've met in a World Cup. The only other time was the 2002 final, a 2-0 win for Brazil.
POTENTIAL FINAL/THIRD-PLACE GAMES
Netherlands-Brazil - This match defined the 90s World Cups. 1994 quarterfinal (Brazil won), 1998 semifinal (Brazil won again). Also, rematch of the 2010 quarterfinal where Netherlands knocked Brazil out 2-1.
Netherlands-Germany - Europe's biggest rivalry. They hate each other. Also, this is a rematch of the 1974 World Cup final and the Euro 1988 final (where Netherlands won their only ever major title). And they played each other in the group stage of Euro 2012 (Germany won).
Germany-Argentina - Huge rivalry back in the day, and it remains potent even now. 1986 World Cup final (Argentina won). 1990 World Cup final (Germany won). Also, Germany eliminated Argentina in the past two World Cups, both times in the quarterfinals.
Argentina-Brazil - Probably the biggest international rivalry in the world. They hate each other so much. A Brazilian that I met in South Africa four years ago was always ready to point out that he would never support Argentina as a neutral. And when the Netherlands eliminated Brazil in the quarterfinals, the biggest celebrations in Cape Town didn't come from the cities sizable Dutch population, but from the elated Argentinians, who were dancing on tables in delight. However, they haven't met in a World Cup since Argentina knocked Brazil out in the round of 16 in 1990.
Basically: This should be good.
BAY AREA - A diverse city with supporters from many nationalities
In the Bay Area, I got my first opportunity to watch an entire World Cup round, the quarterfinals, in one location. It was a nice experience, with sparse crowds at the Pyramid Brewery for the first game of the first day (Germany vs. France), but packed houses for every other match. In particular, it was a lot of fun watching Netherlands vs. Costa Rica at Danny Coyle’s. I somehow ended up hitting it off with a large group of crazy guys (and a couple girls), all in their mid-to-late 20s. We joked, laughed, gasped, and drank our way through the extremely tight game. When the Dutch subbed on keeper Tim Krul in the last minute (and every time he made a save in the penalty shootout), our little group filled the bar with a chant of “Krul! Krul! Krul!” In short, watching the games here was fantastic.
The day after the quarterfinals, I met with Momo, a Bay Area native who has followed soccer for the last nine years. Since most of her soccer-watching friends were international students from college, Momo was able to give me a unique insight on what she saw as the interesting differences between the supporter culture of some of the different nationalities in the diverse San Francisco Bay Area.
Momo is of Japanese descent, with both of her parents having been born in Japan. Therefore, she has a lot of experience with the Japanese and Japanese-American supporter culture, having watched games in Japan in the past and having organized a viewing party for the Samurai Blue’s first game of the World Cup, against Cote d’Ivoire. From her observations, Momo reported that the Japanese tend to be quite reserved when watching their team play. They are, according to her, “well-mannered and quiet” with not much chanting and somewhat limited cheering for big events. However, the Japanese are knowledgeable. Even though most of the people who attended the viewing party that she set up weren’t “super soccer followers,” they still knew everyone on the Japanese team and were able to make observations on some of the finer points of the game. Also, despite Japan’s disappointing performance this World Cup, there was little negativity from their supporters. Momo told me that Japanese culture values how you present yourself to others, so this precluded any overt public disparaging of the team. In addition, it also meant that the team and the country’s FA were very apologetic over their performance, going so far as to release a press report to say they were sorry for letting the fans down. After the viewing party (Japan lost to Cote d’Ivoire, 2-1), many came up to thank Momo for putting it together, grateful that she was able to bring them together in love for country and sport.
With the Koreans she knows, it is a completely different story. When Momo first started getting into soccer in 2005, most of her international student soccer friends were Korean, so she got to observe them watching their team in multiple World Cups, including going to a viewing party with her friends in 2010. The first thing she stressed about the Koreans is that they are extremely loud and excitable. At the viewing party she went to, energy was abundant. Chanting and yelling were omnipresent, as was the banging of inflatable thundersticks. Her international student friends were only focused on the Korean team, and even within the Korean team the spotlight was mostly on the several stars who played on European teams. And just as the Koreans are more outgoing than the Japanese in terms of their support, they are also more open with their criticism. She brought up a story about how a Korean fan greeted the team at the Inchon airport after their sub-par performance by throwing toffee at them (a degrading Korean insult). She added that, in general, the Koreans just aren’t very optimistic.
And then we came to the third nationality - the Americans. While Momo made sure to emphasize the energy the Koreans had, she immediately said that Americans “kick it up a notch.” For them, everything must be flashy. Their entire body must be covered in red, white, and blue. For many, that includes facepaint (while volunteering to do facepainting for the USA-Portugal viewing party at Civic Park, she received several requests to paint an American flag covering the person’s face). Americans also know a lot about their own team, but most lack the knowledge of the game’s finer points to understand some of what goes on as well as fans from Korea or Japan. This may be the result of a large number of “bandwagoners” who just pay attention because it is the World Cup. But these new fans are ever eager to learn about the game, constantly asking questions of Momo, me, or anyone else who follows soccer. What stuck out most to her was how optimistic Americans were. While other nationalities get depressed rather easily, Americans never lose hope that their team can pull off the win, no matter the odds.
The day after the quarterfinals, I met with Momo, a Bay Area native who has followed soccer for the last nine years. Since most of her soccer-watching friends were international students from college, Momo was able to give me a unique insight on what she saw as the interesting differences between the supporter culture of some of the different nationalities in the diverse San Francisco Bay Area.
Momo is of Japanese descent, with both of her parents having been born in Japan. Therefore, she has a lot of experience with the Japanese and Japanese-American supporter culture, having watched games in Japan in the past and having organized a viewing party for the Samurai Blue’s first game of the World Cup, against Cote d’Ivoire. From her observations, Momo reported that the Japanese tend to be quite reserved when watching their team play. They are, according to her, “well-mannered and quiet” with not much chanting and somewhat limited cheering for big events. However, the Japanese are knowledgeable. Even though most of the people who attended the viewing party that she set up weren’t “super soccer followers,” they still knew everyone on the Japanese team and were able to make observations on some of the finer points of the game. Also, despite Japan’s disappointing performance this World Cup, there was little negativity from their supporters. Momo told me that Japanese culture values how you present yourself to others, so this precluded any overt public disparaging of the team. In addition, it also meant that the team and the country’s FA were very apologetic over their performance, going so far as to release a press report to say they were sorry for letting the fans down. After the viewing party (Japan lost to Cote d’Ivoire, 2-1), many came up to thank Momo for putting it together, grateful that she was able to bring them together in love for country and sport.
With the Koreans she knows, it is a completely different story. When Momo first started getting into soccer in 2005, most of her international student soccer friends were Korean, so she got to observe them watching their team in multiple World Cups, including going to a viewing party with her friends in 2010. The first thing she stressed about the Koreans is that they are extremely loud and excitable. At the viewing party she went to, energy was abundant. Chanting and yelling were omnipresent, as was the banging of inflatable thundersticks. Her international student friends were only focused on the Korean team, and even within the Korean team the spotlight was mostly on the several stars who played on European teams. And just as the Koreans are more outgoing than the Japanese in terms of their support, they are also more open with their criticism. She brought up a story about how a Korean fan greeted the team at the Inchon airport after their sub-par performance by throwing toffee at them (a degrading Korean insult). She added that, in general, the Koreans just aren’t very optimistic.
And then we came to the third nationality - the Americans. While Momo made sure to emphasize the energy the Koreans had, she immediately said that Americans “kick it up a notch.” For them, everything must be flashy. Their entire body must be covered in red, white, and blue. For many, that includes facepaint (while volunteering to do facepainting for the USA-Portugal viewing party at Civic Park, she received several requests to paint an American flag covering the person’s face). Americans also know a lot about their own team, but most lack the knowledge of the game’s finer points to understand some of what goes on as well as fans from Korea or Japan. This may be the result of a large number of “bandwagoners” who just pay attention because it is the World Cup. But these new fans are ever eager to learn about the game, constantly asking questions of Momo, me, or anyone else who follows soccer. What stuck out most to her was how optimistic Americans were. While other nationalities get depressed rather easily, Americans never lose hope that their team can pull off the win, no matter the odds.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
SALT LAKE CITY - A business designed to spread the game
Cam Cameron had already thought of starting his own business in his undergrad years at the University of Michigan, which he attended on a soccer scholarship. Coming out of college, he thought about trying to go into MLS, but the low pay for rookies, grueling travel schedule, and aspects of the stereotypical player lifestyle (such as going out on the town with your teammates) deterred him from choosing that path, especially after he got married a week after graduating from Michigan in December, 2010. Instead, Cam moved out to Salt Lake City with his wife to get his MBA at the University of Utah while working a full-time job to pay the bills.
In his second year of the MBA program, Cam started taking entrepreneurship classes, in which panels of entrepreneurs were brought in to guide students on how to start their own business. These classes gave him the courage to believe he could do this, despite the risks. Specifically, Cam wanted to start a business that would add value to the game of soccer and help make the sport he loves more accessible. Soccer allowed him to attend college and travel all over the world to play. But he knows that not everyone is as fortunate.
Cam hoped that through his company, Just Play Cleats, he could make soccer equipment more affordable and thus help soccer grow in the USA and around the world. Many a time Cam had seen a player left behind, despite great talent, because of the costs of playing. Cam looked at the most basic yet most expensive piece of equipment: cleats.
Top-of-the-line cleats from the big brands can cost over $200 per pair, sometimes as much as $275. This is simply out of reach for many people. Cam wanted to create a shoe with a similar feel to the top brands that at the same time would be much more affordable, making good shoes more available.
According to Cam, top-quality cleats are extremely important for safety, and performance. While the difference in quality isn’t as big a deal for those who play at low levels, once a child hits 9 or 10 and starts playing “seriously” (select or school soccer), a good pair of cleats is essential. Not only will good cleats survive intense training much better than a cheaper pair, but they are also lighter, hold their shape better, and have a much more solid stud configuration (as opposed to the rubber studs on low-quality cleats which wear down easily). This means that they feel more comfortable, allow the player to maximize their athleticism, and better protect players from injuries like rolled ankles.
Michigan provided Cam with top quality cleats during his time at the university, so he already knew the feel that the expensive cleats gave players. This allowed him to tweak the established cleat designs to address whatever problems he experienced. He was also able to send them to his friends in MLS to try out, and after many rounds of revisions he eventually came out with the final product this past January.
However, this is no mere business venture (although that is certainly a large part of it). As Cam constantly stated during our meeting, he wanted Just Play Cleats to be a way to actively contribute to the soccer community.
First and foremost, Cam has tried to contribute by increasing the affordability of soccer. He told me about a mother of three sons with whom he had spoken, all of whom play soccer and all of whom wanted brand-name cleats. One of her sons was growing so fast that she had to buy him three new pairs per year at enormous cost. With ventures like Cam’s Just Play Cleats, it becomes a lot easier for families (especially with many young children) to afford good cleats, thus allowing more to play and develop their skills in their youth.
Cam’s attempts to improve soccer’s availability haven’t stopped at selling more affordable cleats; he says that forming his own company has given him the opportunity to donate equipment and time to help those who want to play. He spoke about traveling to the Caribbean island of Anguilla, where he and the rest of the Just Play Cleats crew met up with the president of the Anguilla Football association, Ramond Guishard, to donate 30 pairs of cleats to players in need. While there, Cam was also asked to lead a training session for the Anguilla Women’s National Team, since he had experience with high-level college training sessions that had never been available to these women.
Just Play Cleats has also contributed to Utah’s soccer community by working with Balance House LLC (a program that promotes recovery from alcoholism and drug addiction) to provide cleats for their Utah refugee soccer league. Utah has around 40,000 refugees from all over the world, and they have created a refugee league to give all of them something to bring them together. However, the players are severely lacking in equipment, to the point where those getting subbed off have to give their cleats to the player replacing them. Cam was able to work with Balance House to reduce the price of his cleats by over 50%, so they were able to provide over 100 pairs to those who needed them throughout the league.
All in all, Cam reflected that while it has been a lot of hard work, but it has been a lot of fun, and the thought of having an impact on the game he loves makes it all worth it. “I’d just love to see soccer grow,” he said. “It would be great to have some small impact on that.”
In his second year of the MBA program, Cam started taking entrepreneurship classes, in which panels of entrepreneurs were brought in to guide students on how to start their own business. These classes gave him the courage to believe he could do this, despite the risks. Specifically, Cam wanted to start a business that would add value to the game of soccer and help make the sport he loves more accessible. Soccer allowed him to attend college and travel all over the world to play. But he knows that not everyone is as fortunate.
Cam hoped that through his company, Just Play Cleats, he could make soccer equipment more affordable and thus help soccer grow in the USA and around the world. Many a time Cam had seen a player left behind, despite great talent, because of the costs of playing. Cam looked at the most basic yet most expensive piece of equipment: cleats.
Top-of-the-line cleats from the big brands can cost over $200 per pair, sometimes as much as $275. This is simply out of reach for many people. Cam wanted to create a shoe with a similar feel to the top brands that at the same time would be much more affordable, making good shoes more available.
According to Cam, top-quality cleats are extremely important for safety, and performance. While the difference in quality isn’t as big a deal for those who play at low levels, once a child hits 9 or 10 and starts playing “seriously” (select or school soccer), a good pair of cleats is essential. Not only will good cleats survive intense training much better than a cheaper pair, but they are also lighter, hold their shape better, and have a much more solid stud configuration (as opposed to the rubber studs on low-quality cleats which wear down easily). This means that they feel more comfortable, allow the player to maximize their athleticism, and better protect players from injuries like rolled ankles.
Michigan provided Cam with top quality cleats during his time at the university, so he already knew the feel that the expensive cleats gave players. This allowed him to tweak the established cleat designs to address whatever problems he experienced. He was also able to send them to his friends in MLS to try out, and after many rounds of revisions he eventually came out with the final product this past January.
However, this is no mere business venture (although that is certainly a large part of it). As Cam constantly stated during our meeting, he wanted Just Play Cleats to be a way to actively contribute to the soccer community.
First and foremost, Cam has tried to contribute by increasing the affordability of soccer. He told me about a mother of three sons with whom he had spoken, all of whom play soccer and all of whom wanted brand-name cleats. One of her sons was growing so fast that she had to buy him three new pairs per year at enormous cost. With ventures like Cam’s Just Play Cleats, it becomes a lot easier for families (especially with many young children) to afford good cleats, thus allowing more to play and develop their skills in their youth.
Cam’s attempts to improve soccer’s availability haven’t stopped at selling more affordable cleats; he says that forming his own company has given him the opportunity to donate equipment and time to help those who want to play. He spoke about traveling to the Caribbean island of Anguilla, where he and the rest of the Just Play Cleats crew met up with the president of the Anguilla Football association, Ramond Guishard, to donate 30 pairs of cleats to players in need. While there, Cam was also asked to lead a training session for the Anguilla Women’s National Team, since he had experience with high-level college training sessions that had never been available to these women.
Just Play Cleats has also contributed to Utah’s soccer community by working with Balance House LLC (a program that promotes recovery from alcoholism and drug addiction) to provide cleats for their Utah refugee soccer league. Utah has around 40,000 refugees from all over the world, and they have created a refugee league to give all of them something to bring them together. However, the players are severely lacking in equipment, to the point where those getting subbed off have to give their cleats to the player replacing them. Cam was able to work with Balance House to reduce the price of his cleats by over 50%, so they were able to provide over 100 pairs to those who needed them throughout the league.
All in all, Cam reflected that while it has been a lot of hard work, but it has been a lot of fun, and the thought of having an impact on the game he loves makes it all worth it. “I’d just love to see soccer grow,” he said. “It would be great to have some small impact on that.”
Thursday, July 3, 2014
DENVER - Match Report 5 - America bows out
It is July 1. It’s the USA’s time to shine in the knockout round, and my friend and I arrive at the Three Lions pub at 9:30 A.M. anticipating a fantastic day of soccer. However, for being such an important day, the crowd is thin early on. Although the place isn’t empty, there are plenty of open tables. About 3/4 are in their USA gear, the other quarter are in Argentinian blue and white. I am the only person wearing the red of Switzerland for the day’s first game. Nevertheless, the crowd is still quite amiable towards me. A kind Argentinian woman in her late 20s invites me and my friend to sit with her at the best table in the house (even though I am “wearing the wrong jersey”).
During the Switzerland-Argentina match, the bar rapidly fills up. By half time every table is full, and by the end of regular time I have to fight through the crowd just to reach the bathroom. As in other cities, the patrons, though almost exclusively clad in USA gear, are as engrossed in the day’s first game as they would be if their own country were playing. A gasp for every big save. A loud cheer for Argentina’s go-ahead goal three minutes from the end of extra time. A groan of dismay when Switzerland’s Dzemaili hits the post with a header two minutes later. The American fans also offer up consolation generously. In the half hour after the game, I get many pats on the back and words of comfort praising the Swiss on their good fight. I need this, as the heartbreaking nature of the loss has me closer to tears than any other moment so far this World Cup.
However, there is no time to mourn. The USA plays next, and I needs must change into my USA outfit (complete with lucky socks).
In the lead-up to the match, there are the customary cheers for Klinsmann and boos for the Belgian squad, but compared to everywhere else I have been there is very little chanting until just before kickoff. This isn’t for any lack of voices, though. Every inch of space is taken up 30 minutes before game time, and the bar has to stop letting people in before the match even starts.
As usual, the national anthem is sung a couple beats behind the music on the TV. A couple boos are scattered throughout the Belgian national anthem. And with the songs out of the way, the game begins.
In the first half, energy of the bar seems to have little to no relation to the game going on. Seven Nation Army is sung, as is Florida State’s War Chant. The crowd is just as partisan as in Philadelphia, complaining about most calls against the USA even if the decision is obviously correct. Otherwise, the fans start out quite cheerful and optimistic, with the only target of negativity being Michael Bradley, who has had a very poor tournament by his high standards.
At half time, another friend, who joined us during the game, asks how my original friend and I know the people we are sitting with (in addition to the Argentinian woman, four American men have joined us). We respond by saying we don’t know them, and that only because of soccer are we able to converse as easily as we are. This then leads to a discussion of how wonderful it is that the beautiful game can bring together people all over the world with nothing in common but a love for the sport. The conversation is broken up when a gigantic American flag is unfurled, covering the everyone on the ground floor. Chants of “USA!” begin as we hold it up, only stopping once the second half begins.
During the second half, the crowd gets more intense the closer the game comes to extra time. By the hour mark, chants and bursts of loud noise are so frequent that I can’t even hear what my friends are saying. People are so fixated on the match that they don’t even notice a fire truck slowly roll by the bar with a giant American flag painted on it. Everyone is so anxious that Tim Howard’s saves are cheered as loudly as if the USA had scored a goal (no exaggeration whatsoever). A loud, drunken rendition of the Star Spangled Banner is sung as regular time ends. 0-0. We are headed for another 30 minutes.
Right at the beginning of extra time, De Bruyne makes it 1-0 Belgium, and the energy is completely sapped from the crowd. All encouraging cheers and chants are reduced to a third of their original strength, and many people start criticizing the team for every small mistake that they make. The frustration only doubles when Romelu Lukaku makes it 2-0 Belgium right before half time of extra time.
As the crowd’s attitude threatens to become downright toxic, a lifeline appears. 19-year-old Julian Green scores a wonderful volley, and the USA is only one goal down. A cheer that is as much relief as it is jubilation roars up, along with a slightly belated beer shower. Whereas the crowd’s energy was gone two minutes ago, now it is back and stronger than ever. Screams erupt for every half-chance the USA gets. The negativity is still there (shouts of “what are you doing?!?” are present every time a ball, touch, or a run isn’t 100% perfect), but it is more desperate than frustrated now.
The final whistle blows, and so ends the United States’ World Cup journey. A disgruntled silence lasts for about ten seconds before a round of appreciative applause begins. It starts small, but soon everyone in the bar is clapping. Despite everything that happened during that match, the crowd is still eager to thank the players for an entertaining journey which, while it ended sooner than we would have liked it, firmly established the USA among the world’s top 16 teams.
I left with my friends to go explore the city, hoping that the nation will not stop watching the World Cup now that the USA is done. I certainly won’t. Even if many do, I hope that watching the USA for the past three weeks has given them enough of a taste of the world’s game necessary to create a couple more lifelong fans, and further the game’s presence here in the United States.
During the Switzerland-Argentina match, the bar rapidly fills up. By half time every table is full, and by the end of regular time I have to fight through the crowd just to reach the bathroom. As in other cities, the patrons, though almost exclusively clad in USA gear, are as engrossed in the day’s first game as they would be if their own country were playing. A gasp for every big save. A loud cheer for Argentina’s go-ahead goal three minutes from the end of extra time. A groan of dismay when Switzerland’s Dzemaili hits the post with a header two minutes later. The American fans also offer up consolation generously. In the half hour after the game, I get many pats on the back and words of comfort praising the Swiss on their good fight. I need this, as the heartbreaking nature of the loss has me closer to tears than any other moment so far this World Cup.
However, there is no time to mourn. The USA plays next, and I needs must change into my USA outfit (complete with lucky socks).
In the lead-up to the match, there are the customary cheers for Klinsmann and boos for the Belgian squad, but compared to everywhere else I have been there is very little chanting until just before kickoff. This isn’t for any lack of voices, though. Every inch of space is taken up 30 minutes before game time, and the bar has to stop letting people in before the match even starts.
It is a packed house by the end of Argentina-Switzerland
In the first half, energy of the bar seems to have little to no relation to the game going on. Seven Nation Army is sung, as is Florida State’s War Chant. The crowd is just as partisan as in Philadelphia, complaining about most calls against the USA even if the decision is obviously correct. Otherwise, the fans start out quite cheerful and optimistic, with the only target of negativity being Michael Bradley, who has had a very poor tournament by his high standards.
At half time, another friend, who joined us during the game, asks how my original friend and I know the people we are sitting with (in addition to the Argentinian woman, four American men have joined us). We respond by saying we don’t know them, and that only because of soccer are we able to converse as easily as we are. This then leads to a discussion of how wonderful it is that the beautiful game can bring together people all over the world with nothing in common but a love for the sport. The conversation is broken up when a gigantic American flag is unfurled, covering the everyone on the ground floor. Chants of “USA!” begin as we hold it up, only stopping once the second half begins.
I get caught under a giant American flag that gets rolled out at halftime
During the second half, the crowd gets more intense the closer the game comes to extra time. By the hour mark, chants and bursts of loud noise are so frequent that I can’t even hear what my friends are saying. People are so fixated on the match that they don’t even notice a fire truck slowly roll by the bar with a giant American flag painted on it. Everyone is so anxious that Tim Howard’s saves are cheered as loudly as if the USA had scored a goal (no exaggeration whatsoever). A loud, drunken rendition of the Star Spangled Banner is sung as regular time ends. 0-0. We are headed for another 30 minutes.
Right at the beginning of extra time, De Bruyne makes it 1-0 Belgium, and the energy is completely sapped from the crowd. All encouraging cheers and chants are reduced to a third of their original strength, and many people start criticizing the team for every small mistake that they make. The frustration only doubles when Romelu Lukaku makes it 2-0 Belgium right before half time of extra time.
As the crowd’s attitude threatens to become downright toxic, a lifeline appears. 19-year-old Julian Green scores a wonderful volley, and the USA is only one goal down. A cheer that is as much relief as it is jubilation roars up, along with a slightly belated beer shower. Whereas the crowd’s energy was gone two minutes ago, now it is back and stronger than ever. Screams erupt for every half-chance the USA gets. The negativity is still there (shouts of “what are you doing?!?” are present every time a ball, touch, or a run isn’t 100% perfect), but it is more desperate than frustrated now.
The final whistle blows, and so ends the United States’ World Cup journey. A disgruntled silence lasts for about ten seconds before a round of appreciative applause begins. It starts small, but soon everyone in the bar is clapping. Despite everything that happened during that match, the crowd is still eager to thank the players for an entertaining journey which, while it ended sooner than we would have liked it, firmly established the USA among the world’s top 16 teams.
I left with my friends to go explore the city, hoping that the nation will not stop watching the World Cup now that the USA is done. I certainly won’t. Even if many do, I hope that watching the USA for the past three weeks has given them enough of a taste of the world’s game necessary to create a couple more lifelong fans, and further the game’s presence here in the United States.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
THE MIDWEST - Peter Wilt
During my journey around this gigantic country, I have heard people talk passionately about the beautiful game in various cities, mentioning things they love, things they hate, people who have been influential, etc. Through all this, there was one name that kept cropping up (particularly in the Midwest), a name spoken about in loving tones from Milwaukee to Chicago to Indianapolis. That name is Peter Wilt.
Peter Wilt was the first president and general manager of the Chicago Fire (one of the teams in MLS’ initial round of expansion, along with Miami, in 1998). During his time with the club, Peter endeared himself to the supporters. Ben Burton, former president of Section 8 (the Chicago Fire supporters club), called him “the first fan,” and said he learned “a lot” about the importance of relationships between the front office and the fans by watching how Peter would go the extra mile as GM to interact with the supporters in Chicago. Pattrick Stanton, current VP of Section 8, also had nothing but praise to speak of the man. He told the story of how, one year after Peter had been dismissed by the board in 2005, he was still standing in the front of Section 8 during the final of the US Open Cup, cheering the team on as loudly as he could. At the end of the game, after the Fire’s victory, the goalkeeper, Matt Pickens, came over and put his winner’s medal around Peter’s neck, reducing Peter to tears. Pattrick credits Peter with creating Section 8 and laying the seed for good relations between the front office and the supporters. To sum up his feelings up, Pattrick told me, “I don’t have enough breath in my life” to say all the good things about Peter Wilt.
Mr. Wilt was much-loved outside of Chicago, too. In Milwaukee, he is known as the Patron Saint of Highbury, one of the city’s best-known soccer bars, and as the creator of the “Schlabst,” Milwaukee’s “black-and-tan.” Wilt also spearheaded the (ultimately unsuccessful) attempt to bring an MLS team to Milwaukee, trying to spread the sport ever further through the Midwest.
But where I heard most about Peter’s work was in the city of his most recent venture - Indianapolis. Peter Wilt played a critical role in getting Indianapolis‘ new NASL team, Indy Eleven, off the ground, and currently serves as its president/GM. As in other cities, the fans I spoke with in Indy had nothing but positives to say about the man. “Every time I’ve seen him, he’s in the crowd,” one said, noting how out of the normal this is for club presidents. Another noted how he always goes the extra mile to make himself available for the fans. Whether it’s thanking supporters for coming to every game (even after a loss), showing up at all the marketing events, or even just frequenting soccer pubs (like the Chatham Tap, where I watched the USA-Ghana game) to mingle with the supporters, Peter will do whatever it takes to reach out to the fans and get them into the game.
The Indy Eleven front office also spoke high praise of the club’s president. I had the privilege to speak with Tom Dunmore, the current VP of Marketing and Operations for Indy Eleven, who told me the story of what Peter did to help make the club so beloved in Indianapolis. In the age of social media, a lot of marketing campaigns have become increasingly digital, and the face-to-face contact that can build a real connection between club and community is sometimes lacking. Peter took ever effort to avoid this folly. Tom talked about how Peter would drive his own car around town, going to bars/restaurants to ask them to do promotions for the team, going to hundreds of meetings and fan events, even going out to the suburbs and shaking hands with the individual fans out there, all to give the people of the Indianapolis area a personal connection to the club that social media and conventional marketing could never achieve. He did so much to give the team a community feel that Tom said he was like a “one man show” in the beginning, all to make sure that the team would be embraced by the community they were about to play for. And the success shows. Despite being in the cellar of the NASL table for the entire Spring season, Indy Eleven had the league’s highest attendance by a margin of 4,000 fans per game, and every team that comes to play in Indianapolis comments on the fervor of their supporters.
The work of men like Peter Wilt can leave a lasting impression on a club, its community, and its supporters, ensuring a bond that will endure. One can only hope that he and many others continue to do such work in other communities across the years, to continue the spread of the beautiful game across our great country.
Peter Wilt was the first president and general manager of the Chicago Fire (one of the teams in MLS’ initial round of expansion, along with Miami, in 1998). During his time with the club, Peter endeared himself to the supporters. Ben Burton, former president of Section 8 (the Chicago Fire supporters club), called him “the first fan,” and said he learned “a lot” about the importance of relationships between the front office and the fans by watching how Peter would go the extra mile as GM to interact with the supporters in Chicago. Pattrick Stanton, current VP of Section 8, also had nothing but praise to speak of the man. He told the story of how, one year after Peter had been dismissed by the board in 2005, he was still standing in the front of Section 8 during the final of the US Open Cup, cheering the team on as loudly as he could. At the end of the game, after the Fire’s victory, the goalkeeper, Matt Pickens, came over and put his winner’s medal around Peter’s neck, reducing Peter to tears. Pattrick credits Peter with creating Section 8 and laying the seed for good relations between the front office and the supporters. To sum up his feelings up, Pattrick told me, “I don’t have enough breath in my life” to say all the good things about Peter Wilt.
Mr. Wilt was much-loved outside of Chicago, too. In Milwaukee, he is known as the Patron Saint of Highbury, one of the city’s best-known soccer bars, and as the creator of the “Schlabst,” Milwaukee’s “black-and-tan.” Wilt also spearheaded the (ultimately unsuccessful) attempt to bring an MLS team to Milwaukee, trying to spread the sport ever further through the Midwest.
But where I heard most about Peter’s work was in the city of his most recent venture - Indianapolis. Peter Wilt played a critical role in getting Indianapolis‘ new NASL team, Indy Eleven, off the ground, and currently serves as its president/GM. As in other cities, the fans I spoke with in Indy had nothing but positives to say about the man. “Every time I’ve seen him, he’s in the crowd,” one said, noting how out of the normal this is for club presidents. Another noted how he always goes the extra mile to make himself available for the fans. Whether it’s thanking supporters for coming to every game (even after a loss), showing up at all the marketing events, or even just frequenting soccer pubs (like the Chatham Tap, where I watched the USA-Ghana game) to mingle with the supporters, Peter will do whatever it takes to reach out to the fans and get them into the game.
The Indy Eleven front office also spoke high praise of the club’s president. I had the privilege to speak with Tom Dunmore, the current VP of Marketing and Operations for Indy Eleven, who told me the story of what Peter did to help make the club so beloved in Indianapolis. In the age of social media, a lot of marketing campaigns have become increasingly digital, and the face-to-face contact that can build a real connection between club and community is sometimes lacking. Peter took ever effort to avoid this folly. Tom talked about how Peter would drive his own car around town, going to bars/restaurants to ask them to do promotions for the team, going to hundreds of meetings and fan events, even going out to the suburbs and shaking hands with the individual fans out there, all to give the people of the Indianapolis area a personal connection to the club that social media and conventional marketing could never achieve. He did so much to give the team a community feel that Tom said he was like a “one man show” in the beginning, all to make sure that the team would be embraced by the community they were about to play for. And the success shows. Despite being in the cellar of the NASL table for the entire Spring season, Indy Eleven had the league’s highest attendance by a margin of 4,000 fans per game, and every team that comes to play in Indianapolis comments on the fervor of their supporters.
The work of men like Peter Wilt can leave a lasting impression on a club, its community, and its supporters, ensuring a bond that will endure. One can only hope that he and many others continue to do such work in other communities across the years, to continue the spread of the beautiful game across our great country.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
KANSAS CITY - Colombian Conversion
Few places I’ve been to have had a better World Cup setup than Futbol Club in Overland Park, a Kansas City suburb. Three rooms, ten TVs, three big projector screens, dozens of scarves, plenty of fun football extras, and delicious beer. In addition, the atmosphere was excellent, with everyone (including the neutrals) fixed to the first match of the day (Brazil vs. Chile) all the way through the 120 minutes and penalties). Despite this promising start, it was still a surprise to me when the second match of the day, Colombia vs. Uruguay, brought forth the happiest and most optimistic fans that I have encountered on my journey.
The first of several surprises was the huge crowd of Colombians at the bar. The fans numbered in the hundreds, over 2/3 of whom were wearing Colombian yellow. It was thirty minutes before the game, and the place was already as crowded as Lexington had been for USA vs. Germany. Moreover, it was LOUD. While there was little chanting, the instruments were out in spades. Drums, tambourines, cowbells, horns, whistles, sirens, all being played constantly as the match approached. I asked one of the waiters if this is common. He said that they get a similar crowd for every Colombia game. Apparently, in addition to being the official American Outlaws bar of the Kansas City area, Futbol Club is also the place where the Colombian-American Society of KC always come to watch their team play. In the lead-up to the game, the bar switched the TVs from ESPN to Univision, so the commentary was now in Spanish. The main bartender told me that this is something they regularly do when they get a large enough crowd for a Spanish-speaking team (most often Mexico and Colombia).
The second surprise was how positive the Colombians were. From the moment the match kicked off, they exuded nothing but optimism. Their drums, cowbells, and whistles beat out an energetic rhythm from the opening whistle to the final one. Their voices egged on their players every time they entered the attacking third. This itself was nothing too far out of the ordinary for a regular USA game. What I wasn’t used to was the lack of any negativity. The attack gave away the ball to end a foray forward? The rhythm kept on beating. The defense committed an error which gave the Uruguayans a good opportunity to score? The Colombian voices refused to turn against their players. Not once, in the entire match, did I hear any Colombian criticizing or calling out their players, which was a stark contrast from the Americans, Italians, English, or Brazilians.
This positivity was reinforced in a strong way in the second half, when torrential rain started to come down over Kansas City, and the storm clouds blocked off the satellite signal, temporarily shutting down the TVs in the bar. The groan of dismay was the only negative thing I heard all afternoon. Despite an initial, restless quiet without the match on TV, the music resumed quickly. Phones and tablets were soon omnipresent as people scrambled to watch the match while the proprietors stood by and waited for the satellite signal to return. And, most surprisingly, not a single person left the bar.
It was during this time that I started speaking to some of the Colombians. One of them just joked with me about the TVs going out. “I think this is planned,” he said. “They want you to feel like you are in Colombia when the lights go out!” I couldn’t believe it. This man’s country was thirty minutes from reaching the last eight of the World Cup for first time in history when the TVs go out, and he is laughing about it? He wasn’t the only one joking around. Twice, several guys at the bar yell “goal!” to get everyone excited, then laugh when they look around to see who is celebrating.
I pointed out to the first man that no one had left despite the lost signal. “We believe,” he replied, ever the optimist. “We believe the signal will come back.” He then started talking to me about how much this match meant to Colombia. He told me about going to the ’94 World Cup to watch Colombia play in Pasadena, seeing them lose there, and suffering with them as they fell out of the World Cup picture for over a decade after 1998. He pointed to the TV (which had come back on by that point) and told me that these players, like him, had grown up watching the glory days of the 1990s and the subsequent collapse of the 2000s. To finally have something to cheer about again was a dream come true to them. “It means a lot more than just a soccer game to us.”
In the end, Colombia cruised to a 2-0 victory. In the process, they won a new fan. Not because of the way they played on the field (although they did play very attractive soccer), but because of their fans. They were happy, positive, optimistic, loud, passionate, FUN! They made it feel like an American game, only with samba instead of chanting. And they were so willing to include everyone in their party. For the sake of their wonderful fans in Kansas City, I wish the Colombian team the best of luck in the rest of the tournament.
The menu had a lot of fun World Cup specials
The first of several surprises was the huge crowd of Colombians at the bar. The fans numbered in the hundreds, over 2/3 of whom were wearing Colombian yellow. It was thirty minutes before the game, and the place was already as crowded as Lexington had been for USA vs. Germany. Moreover, it was LOUD. While there was little chanting, the instruments were out in spades. Drums, tambourines, cowbells, horns, whistles, sirens, all being played constantly as the match approached. I asked one of the waiters if this is common. He said that they get a similar crowd for every Colombia game. Apparently, in addition to being the official American Outlaws bar of the Kansas City area, Futbol Club is also the place where the Colombian-American Society of KC always come to watch their team play. In the lead-up to the game, the bar switched the TVs from ESPN to Univision, so the commentary was now in Spanish. The main bartender told me that this is something they regularly do when they get a large enough crowd for a Spanish-speaking team (most often Mexico and Colombia).
The second surprise was how positive the Colombians were. From the moment the match kicked off, they exuded nothing but optimism. Their drums, cowbells, and whistles beat out an energetic rhythm from the opening whistle to the final one. Their voices egged on their players every time they entered the attacking third. This itself was nothing too far out of the ordinary for a regular USA game. What I wasn’t used to was the lack of any negativity. The attack gave away the ball to end a foray forward? The rhythm kept on beating. The defense committed an error which gave the Uruguayans a good opportunity to score? The Colombian voices refused to turn against their players. Not once, in the entire match, did I hear any Colombian criticizing or calling out their players, which was a stark contrast from the Americans, Italians, English, or Brazilians.
This positivity was reinforced in a strong way in the second half, when torrential rain started to come down over Kansas City, and the storm clouds blocked off the satellite signal, temporarily shutting down the TVs in the bar. The groan of dismay was the only negative thing I heard all afternoon. Despite an initial, restless quiet without the match on TV, the music resumed quickly. Phones and tablets were soon omnipresent as people scrambled to watch the match while the proprietors stood by and waited for the satellite signal to return. And, most surprisingly, not a single person left the bar.
It was during this time that I started speaking to some of the Colombians. One of them just joked with me about the TVs going out. “I think this is planned,” he said. “They want you to feel like you are in Colombia when the lights go out!” I couldn’t believe it. This man’s country was thirty minutes from reaching the last eight of the World Cup for first time in history when the TVs go out, and he is laughing about it? He wasn’t the only one joking around. Twice, several guys at the bar yell “goal!” to get everyone excited, then laugh when they look around to see who is celebrating.
I pointed out to the first man that no one had left despite the lost signal. “We believe,” he replied, ever the optimist. “We believe the signal will come back.” He then started talking to me about how much this match meant to Colombia. He told me about going to the ’94 World Cup to watch Colombia play in Pasadena, seeing them lose there, and suffering with them as they fell out of the World Cup picture for over a decade after 1998. He pointed to the TV (which had come back on by that point) and told me that these players, like him, had grown up watching the glory days of the 1990s and the subsequent collapse of the 2000s. To finally have something to cheer about again was a dream come true to them. “It means a lot more than just a soccer game to us.”
In the end, Colombia cruised to a 2-0 victory. In the process, they won a new fan. Not because of the way they played on the field (although they did play very attractive soccer), but because of their fans. They were happy, positive, optimistic, loud, passionate, FUN! They made it feel like an American game, only with samba instead of chanting. And they were so willing to include everyone in their party. For the sake of their wonderful fans in Kansas City, I wish the Colombian team the best of luck in the rest of the tournament.
Friday, June 27, 2014
LEXINGTON - Match Report Four - How the U.S. lost and still conquered death
The day starts off on a worrying note. On the bus ride across Lexington, I don’t see a single USA shirt or even a hint that the World Cup is going on. The discouraging signs continue when I arrive at the West Sixth Brewery, the local American Outlaws bar, at 11 a.m. - one hour to game time. The building is split into two rooms: one with long tables and a giant screen projected on the wall (which is where the American Outlaws and most of the crowd are), and a bigger room which looks like a cross between a typical bar and a coffee shop. Dismayingly, however, the place is pretty empty, with about fifty people in a building which looks like it can hold three hundred, maybe four. Unlike Indianapolis or Philadelphia, there is very little chanting. Just a bunch of people talking and chattering away, ordering food, drinking beer, and waiting for the match to start.
A couple German fans show up, but the red, white, and blue dominate the scene. There is much less official US Soccer gear here than in Indy or Philly. Instead, people threw on whatever red, white, and blue gear they can find.. I see a “back-to-back World War champs” shirt, a “Reagan Bush ’84” cap worn by someone who doesn’t look like he was alive for that election, and (my favorite) a fantastic blue bro-tank with the words “God, USA, SEC” in red letters.
Thirty minutes before the game, the crowd has grown to approximately seventy people, and I go to get lunch at the seafood restaurant attached to the bar. When I return ten minutes later, everything has changed. The crowd has swelled to 120, and chanting has taken hold in the AO room. There are the old standbys (“I Believe” and “When the Yanks come marching in”), but there are also more creative chants that I never heard in the other two cities (including Seattle’s “Boom Boom Clap”). However, the chants don’t last as long as they did in the other cities. People keep filing into the brewery so that by game time the place is standing room only.
The Star Spangled Banner is started at the end of “Boom Boom Clap,” so most don’t realize what’s going on. Once they do, they start singing, and become the first bar on my trip to actually sing in time with the music on the TV. Afterwards, the German anthem is played. In stark contrast to Philadelphia, the crowd listens to the opposing anthem quietly, and there is even a little applause at the end.
Then, the whistle blows, and for the third time this month, the USA kicks off.
From the beginning, Germany dominates. This creates a nervousness in the room which lends itself to an intense atmosphere. Giant cheers erupt for the smallest things: a save by Tim Howard, the USA winning a throw-in, etc.
It is interesting being in this bar just a couple days after watching the USA in Philadelphia. The Lexington crowd is equally as partisan as Philly, demanding cards for innocuous German fouls. On the other hand, unlike Philadelphia, Lexington is extremely positive. They give shouts of encouragement after failed American attacks, including a roar for Graham Zusi firing a shot a foot over the bar.
As the game gets into full swing, the crowd gets more and more into it. Before kickoff, it was mostly the dozen or so AO members in the room who were chanting. Now, everyone participates in every chant, to deafening effect. It only intensifies when it is announced that Portugal has taken the lead over Ghana (which was not being shown at the bar), giving the USA a little breathing room.
There is surprisingly little grief when Muller scores Germany’s goal. The crowd does give one cry of anguish, but it quickly turns to chatter about how we still are two goals safe. It isn’t the end of the world.
Then news comes that Ghana has scored. A couple people cheer, but only until others inform them that this means one more Ghana goal eliminates the USA. Nervousness abounds. A little boy next to me has pulled up the Portugal-Ghana game on his phone, and I start paying almost as much attention to that as to the USA game.
The anxiety turns the crowd hostile. Whereas before only shouts of encouragement could be heard, now the fans start to yell at players for giving the ball away and making mistakes. Bradley is, yet again, the main recipient of the criticism. It only ends when, ten minutes from time, it is announced that Cristiano Ronaldo has scored to give Portugal a 2-1 lead.
Relief. A roar of jubilation goes up, as big as if the U.S. had just scored (albeit shorter). The nervous atmosphere disappears instantly, and relaxed chatter takes over. Suddenly time is passing a lot quicker. And before we know it, the final whistle blows.
The cheer that goes up is not nearly as loud as anything I heard in Indianapolis or Philadelphia, but it serves its purpose. A chant of “we want Belgium” (to the tune of “we want ‘Bama”) begins. When it is announced that the final whistle has gone in Portugal-Ghana and that the U.S. has officially advanced, a smaller cheer goes up. Most don’t seem to have heard, having stopped paying much attention once the USA’s game ended.
The crowd files out with astonishing speed after the game. Many are gone within fifteen minutes, and by the time Belgium-South Korea starts only twenty remain.
Perhaps this shows that the crowd were more interested in cheering on the USA than in watching the World Cup, or maybe it was the two hour wait in between games that deterred people. Either way, in Lexington it is apparent that soccer plays second fiddle, but the soccer-loving niche is as passionate as in the big cities (if on a smaller scale).
A couple German fans show up, but the red, white, and blue dominate the scene. There is much less official US Soccer gear here than in Indy or Philly. Instead, people threw on whatever red, white, and blue gear they can find.. I see a “back-to-back World War champs” shirt, a “Reagan Bush ’84” cap worn by someone who doesn’t look like he was alive for that election, and (my favorite) a fantastic blue bro-tank with the words “God, USA, SEC” in red letters.
Thirty minutes before the game, the crowd has grown to approximately seventy people, and I go to get lunch at the seafood restaurant attached to the bar. When I return ten minutes later, everything has changed. The crowd has swelled to 120, and chanting has taken hold in the AO room. There are the old standbys (“I Believe” and “When the Yanks come marching in”), but there are also more creative chants that I never heard in the other two cities (including Seattle’s “Boom Boom Clap”). However, the chants don’t last as long as they did in the other cities. People keep filing into the brewery so that by game time the place is standing room only.
The Star Spangled Banner is started at the end of “Boom Boom Clap,” so most don’t realize what’s going on. Once they do, they start singing, and become the first bar on my trip to actually sing in time with the music on the TV. Afterwards, the German anthem is played. In stark contrast to Philadelphia, the crowd listens to the opposing anthem quietly, and there is even a little applause at the end.
Then, the whistle blows, and for the third time this month, the USA kicks off.
From the beginning, Germany dominates. This creates a nervousness in the room which lends itself to an intense atmosphere. Giant cheers erupt for the smallest things: a save by Tim Howard, the USA winning a throw-in, etc.
It is interesting being in this bar just a couple days after watching the USA in Philadelphia. The Lexington crowd is equally as partisan as Philly, demanding cards for innocuous German fouls. On the other hand, unlike Philadelphia, Lexington is extremely positive. They give shouts of encouragement after failed American attacks, including a roar for Graham Zusi firing a shot a foot over the bar.
As the game gets into full swing, the crowd gets more and more into it. Before kickoff, it was mostly the dozen or so AO members in the room who were chanting. Now, everyone participates in every chant, to deafening effect. It only intensifies when it is announced that Portugal has taken the lead over Ghana (which was not being shown at the bar), giving the USA a little breathing room.
There is surprisingly little grief when Muller scores Germany’s goal. The crowd does give one cry of anguish, but it quickly turns to chatter about how we still are two goals safe. It isn’t the end of the world.
Then news comes that Ghana has scored. A couple people cheer, but only until others inform them that this means one more Ghana goal eliminates the USA. Nervousness abounds. A little boy next to me has pulled up the Portugal-Ghana game on his phone, and I start paying almost as much attention to that as to the USA game.
The anxiety turns the crowd hostile. Whereas before only shouts of encouragement could be heard, now the fans start to yell at players for giving the ball away and making mistakes. Bradley is, yet again, the main recipient of the criticism. It only ends when, ten minutes from time, it is announced that Cristiano Ronaldo has scored to give Portugal a 2-1 lead.
Relief. A roar of jubilation goes up, as big as if the U.S. had just scored (albeit shorter). The nervous atmosphere disappears instantly, and relaxed chatter takes over. Suddenly time is passing a lot quicker. And before we know it, the final whistle blows.
The cheer that goes up is not nearly as loud as anything I heard in Indianapolis or Philadelphia, but it serves its purpose. A chant of “we want Belgium” (to the tune of “we want ‘Bama”) begins. When it is announced that the final whistle has gone in Portugal-Ghana and that the U.S. has officially advanced, a smaller cheer goes up. Most don’t seem to have heard, having stopped paying much attention once the USA’s game ended.
The crowd files out with astonishing speed after the game. Many are gone within fifteen minutes, and by the time Belgium-South Korea starts only twenty remain.
Perhaps this shows that the crowd were more interested in cheering on the USA than in watching the World Cup, or maybe it was the two hour wait in between games that deterred people. Either way, in Lexington it is apparent that soccer plays second fiddle, but the soccer-loving niche is as passionate as in the big cities (if on a smaller scale).
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
PHILADELPHIA - When Americans turn Outlaw
My first stop in Philadelphia is The Greeks, a pub in Narberth (a northwestern suburb) to meet with Sean, the secretary/membership officer of American Outlaws’ Philadelphia chapter, and Julian, the AO Philly Vice President. After we take in an exciting Germany-Ghana game (and eating a delicious cheese steak), the two guys decide to take me around the Philadelphia area and show me the city’s soccer scene.
As they drive me around, the talk turns to the organization they help lead: AO Philly. The chapter, founded in 2010, was headed at first by the original leaders of The Sons of Ben, the supporters group for the Philadelphia Union (which started playing in the same year as the founding of the Philadelphia AO chapter). Problems were numerous. They tried to do joint membership with Sons of Ben and AO (which is against the rules of AO national headquarters), and there was little ambition to expand beyond the small bar they met at or beyond the small membership they had. Due to this, AO nationals decided to let the chapter wilt into becoming, as one of the national leaders said to Julian, “one of the worst chapters in the country.”
Change started when someone for AO nationals spotted Julian at the Crossbar (the American Outlaws Philadelphia bar at the time), recording a podcast that he does for his website, thesoccerdesk.com. The man was impressed, and asked Julian if he wanted to be in charge of social media for AO Philly. Julian accepted. Together, he and the new chapter president, a man named Greg, decided that in order to get the chapter off its feet, they had to move to a bar big enough to hold more than 40 people. After looking around at various Irish bars in the area, the guys eventually settled on the local Fado.
Fado is known across the country as being a soccer-friendly bar chain. I went to the Seattle branch (they let minors in for US matches, so long as they don’t go into the bar area) for the Honduras-USA qualifier in 2009, and it had a wonderful, raucous atmosphere. The Fado in Philadelphia was no different. They were quite eager to become the new American Outlaws bar in Philly, even offering a bunch of drink and meal specials for members on U.S. game days. A “test run” was done for the first U.S. match of the 2013 Gold Cup, against Belize. It certainly wasn’t a resounding success, with only a couple of people showing up. However, as the team progressed through the Cup, AO Philly started exploding on Twitter and Facebook to get the word out about the USA’s performance. For the final of the competition (USA vs. Panama), the venue was packed. And that, according to Julian, was when they knew that “the chapter was back.”
American success on the field and a much better bar for watching games certainly helped the attendance at American Outlaws events (as well as American Outlaws membership), but there was still more work to be done. Greg and Julian started the process of incorporating the chapter, something that American Outlaws national headquarters likes a lot. Incorporating a chapter makes it an official non-profit company with the state, helps it with liability issues, gives it a respectability with bars, the city, and potential members that it cannot get any other way. The incorporation papers went through quickly, but more leadership was needed if the Outlaws were going to grow like they wanted to. Sean was recruited from the Crossbar pub to be the Secretary/Membership Officer, and Greg’s wife Julia was brought on as treasurer.
After the leadership was secured, it was time to start planning for the World Cup. Molly, Fado’s events coordinator was excited to help out with the plans. Watch parties for every game were to be held at Fado, and the AO chapter was able to work a deal with Fado, Misconduct (the soccer tavern across the street from Fado), the Philadelphia Union, and the city of Philadelphia to close down a section of Locust Street and put up a big outdoor TV for the USA’s second game vs. Portugal, a party which was attended by at least 600 people. In a generous move the Union allowed AO to have their name at the head of the event, even though the Union fronted most of the money to get the city permit to close off the street.
Overall, Sean and Julian were very happy with how far the Philadelphia American Outlaws chapter has come since they took over. Despite the restructuring of the chapter less than a year before the World Cup, both USA games so far have packed Fado to the rafters. There was even a decent turnout for the USA-Azerbaijan pre-World Cup friendly, which started at 10pm ET on a Tuesday night. Membership is up in the 400s whereas it used to be that they would only get a couple dozen to each game showing. In the cradle of the American Revolution, the world’s game is flourishing.
As they drive me around, the talk turns to the organization they help lead: AO Philly. The chapter, founded in 2010, was headed at first by the original leaders of The Sons of Ben, the supporters group for the Philadelphia Union (which started playing in the same year as the founding of the Philadelphia AO chapter). Problems were numerous. They tried to do joint membership with Sons of Ben and AO (which is against the rules of AO national headquarters), and there was little ambition to expand beyond the small bar they met at or beyond the small membership they had. Due to this, AO nationals decided to let the chapter wilt into becoming, as one of the national leaders said to Julian, “one of the worst chapters in the country.”
Change started when someone for AO nationals spotted Julian at the Crossbar (the American Outlaws Philadelphia bar at the time), recording a podcast that he does for his website, thesoccerdesk.com. The man was impressed, and asked Julian if he wanted to be in charge of social media for AO Philly. Julian accepted. Together, he and the new chapter president, a man named Greg, decided that in order to get the chapter off its feet, they had to move to a bar big enough to hold more than 40 people. After looking around at various Irish bars in the area, the guys eventually settled on the local Fado.
Fado is known across the country as being a soccer-friendly bar chain. I went to the Seattle branch (they let minors in for US matches, so long as they don’t go into the bar area) for the Honduras-USA qualifier in 2009, and it had a wonderful, raucous atmosphere. The Fado in Philadelphia was no different. They were quite eager to become the new American Outlaws bar in Philly, even offering a bunch of drink and meal specials for members on U.S. game days. A “test run” was done for the first U.S. match of the 2013 Gold Cup, against Belize. It certainly wasn’t a resounding success, with only a couple of people showing up. However, as the team progressed through the Cup, AO Philly started exploding on Twitter and Facebook to get the word out about the USA’s performance. For the final of the competition (USA vs. Panama), the venue was packed. And that, according to Julian, was when they knew that “the chapter was back.”
American success on the field and a much better bar for watching games certainly helped the attendance at American Outlaws events (as well as American Outlaws membership), but there was still more work to be done. Greg and Julian started the process of incorporating the chapter, something that American Outlaws national headquarters likes a lot. Incorporating a chapter makes it an official non-profit company with the state, helps it with liability issues, gives it a respectability with bars, the city, and potential members that it cannot get any other way. The incorporation papers went through quickly, but more leadership was needed if the Outlaws were going to grow like they wanted to. Sean was recruited from the Crossbar pub to be the Secretary/Membership Officer, and Greg’s wife Julia was brought on as treasurer.
After the leadership was secured, it was time to start planning for the World Cup. Molly, Fado’s events coordinator was excited to help out with the plans. Watch parties for every game were to be held at Fado, and the AO chapter was able to work a deal with Fado, Misconduct (the soccer tavern across the street from Fado), the Philadelphia Union, and the city of Philadelphia to close down a section of Locust Street and put up a big outdoor TV for the USA’s second game vs. Portugal, a party which was attended by at least 600 people. In a generous move the Union allowed AO to have their name at the head of the event, even though the Union fronted most of the money to get the city permit to close off the street.
Overall, Sean and Julian were very happy with how far the Philadelphia American Outlaws chapter has come since they took over. Despite the restructuring of the chapter less than a year before the World Cup, both USA games so far have packed Fado to the rafters. There was even a decent turnout for the USA-Azerbaijan pre-World Cup friendly, which started at 10pm ET on a Tuesday night. Membership is up in the 400s whereas it used to be that they would only get a couple dozen to each game showing. In the cradle of the American Revolution, the world’s game is flourishing.
Monday, June 23, 2014
PHILADELPHIA - Match Report 3 - So. Close.
I thought that the Indianapolis atmosphere was crazy. With all due respect to my friends in Indy, it didn’t hold a candle to the madness that went down in Philadelphia.
As I did for the first USA game, I arrive at the bar at halftime of the day’s first match (Belgium vs. Russia). Walking to the bar, I had been a little discouraged by the lack of fanfare in the streets. In Indianapolis, everyone was decked out in red, white, and blue. In Philadelphia, I only see a couple American shirts. That all changes when I get to Fado, the American Outlaws bar in Philadelphia. Outside the bar, the street is closed down and a giant TV is being set up. Inside, the place is already as full as Indianapolis’ Chatham Tap had been for the Ghana game, and there are still five hours until kick off. What’s more, the crowd doesn’t seem to just be there for the U.S. game; they’re fully involved in the first two games of the day, cheering and gasping with every big moment.
Two and a half hours before the game, the bar is so crowded that it is hard to move around, and the people I am standing with have to fight hard “for our turf.” It is so packed that they have to stop letting people into the bar. This is also the point when the chanting starts. As with Indianapolis, “I believe that we will win” and “When the Yanks come marching in” are by far the most popular.
The chanting doubles in frequency and volume as soon as the Algeria-South Korea game ends. A chorus of boos greats every showing of Portuguese players on the TVs, and a chant of an unprintable word is shouted each time Cristiano Ronaldo appears.
As with Indianapolis, the national anthem is drunkenly sung several beats behind the music on TV. Unlike in Indianapolis, however, the bar boos the opposing national anthem. It fit in with many of Fado’s patrons telling me that in Philadelphia, they earn their reputation as rude sports fans. Even so, happy chatter and chanting is rampant through the opening whistle.
Then, a horrible defensive miscue, and Portugal scores within six minutes.
Not only does the crowd of at least 200 go silent, it stays silent. While there is a feeble attempt to get an “I believe” chant going right after the USA concede, for the next ten minutes quiet, disgruntled chatter is all I can hear.
The atmosphere within Fado begins to resemble what I experienced in England - excessive swearing, extreme partisanship (complaining every time a whistle goes against the USA, even if it was an obvious foul), etc.
At halftime, I decide that I should watch the rest of the game out on the street with the giant TV. I walk out of Fado (knowing that they won’t let me back in), and immediately realize one big mistake that American Outlaws and Fado made when putting up the TV: it needs to be at least three feet higher off the ground. As it is, it’s so low that only the people closest to it have a good view, and the other 300 in the street are all standing on steps, on the curb, even climbing a bank building to be able to see more than the top half of the screen.
The atmosphere in the open is quite different than it was inside. Chanting is mostly done up at the front. The rest of the crowd are talking and chattering while watching the game and trying to see the screen, and are generally a lot more positive. A giant cheer goes up as the ball gets passed to Bradley right in front of goal, but that cheer is only because much of the crowd cannot see that Bradley’s shot had been saved. It takes a full minute for many to realize the situation.
Then the real thing happens. From my vantage point, I can only see the ball hit the net, but that is enough. I am immediately engulfed in a giant bear hug from someone on my right, and once released I run around screaming. 1-1. Song 2 (Woo Hoo) by Blur is blared on speakers, and the most ear-splitting chant of “USA” that I have ever heard breaks out, so loud you must be able to hear it ten blocks off.
Fifteen minutes later, it happens again. Dempsey scores, and beer flies up into the air in gallons. My notepad is drenched, and I don’t care. I thought the earlier chant of “USA” was ear-splitting, but the one that breaks out now is downright deafening. People are running around, embracing strangers, beside themselves with joy. The United States are 2-1 up on Portugal with only ten minutes left.
The chant of “USA” following the second goal continue for over three minutes. I note that you would expect this atmosphere in Germany or England or Brazil, but not (according to the stereotype) in the United States.
Sadly, Ronaldo’s moment of the match comes 30 seconds from its conclusion as he whips in a fantastic cross that finds Varela’s head, and the back of the U.S. net bulges. 2-2. Final.
It is a mark of how well the USA played that this was a result most would have taken without question at the start, but there wasn’t a single face that didn’t look as if someone had just slapped it. It is best summed up by a person I overheard walking away from the match: “****! That is literally the only word that comes to my mind right now.”
Still, despite the late disappointment, I must applaud Philadelphia on having the best atmosphere of any city I have been to so far. They may not have been the most positive fans, but they were nice to an outsider, and more enthusiastic than those of any other city I have seen. Keep it up, Philadelphia. I hope to find more places like you.
As I did for the first USA game, I arrive at the bar at halftime of the day’s first match (Belgium vs. Russia). Walking to the bar, I had been a little discouraged by the lack of fanfare in the streets. In Indianapolis, everyone was decked out in red, white, and blue. In Philadelphia, I only see a couple American shirts. That all changes when I get to Fado, the American Outlaws bar in Philadelphia. Outside the bar, the street is closed down and a giant TV is being set up. Inside, the place is already as full as Indianapolis’ Chatham Tap had been for the Ghana game, and there are still five hours until kick off. What’s more, the crowd doesn’t seem to just be there for the U.S. game; they’re fully involved in the first two games of the day, cheering and gasping with every big moment.
Two and a half hours before the game, the bar is so crowded that it is hard to move around, and the people I am standing with have to fight hard “for our turf.” It is so packed that they have to stop letting people into the bar. This is also the point when the chanting starts. As with Indianapolis, “I believe that we will win” and “When the Yanks come marching in” are by far the most popular.
A small section of the crowd at Fado over two hours before the USA game
The chanting doubles in frequency and volume as soon as the Algeria-South Korea game ends. A chorus of boos greats every showing of Portuguese players on the TVs, and a chant of an unprintable word is shouted each time Cristiano Ronaldo appears.
As with Indianapolis, the national anthem is drunkenly sung several beats behind the music on TV. Unlike in Indianapolis, however, the bar boos the opposing national anthem. It fit in with many of Fado’s patrons telling me that in Philadelphia, they earn their reputation as rude sports fans. Even so, happy chatter and chanting is rampant through the opening whistle.
Then, a horrible defensive miscue, and Portugal scores within six minutes.
Not only does the crowd of at least 200 go silent, it stays silent. While there is a feeble attempt to get an “I believe” chant going right after the USA concede, for the next ten minutes quiet, disgruntled chatter is all I can hear.
The atmosphere within Fado begins to resemble what I experienced in England - excessive swearing, extreme partisanship (complaining every time a whistle goes against the USA, even if it was an obvious foul), etc.
At halftime, I decide that I should watch the rest of the game out on the street with the giant TV. I walk out of Fado (knowing that they won’t let me back in), and immediately realize one big mistake that American Outlaws and Fado made when putting up the TV: it needs to be at least three feet higher off the ground. As it is, it’s so low that only the people closest to it have a good view, and the other 300 in the street are all standing on steps, on the curb, even climbing a bank building to be able to see more than the top half of the screen.
The atmosphere in the open is quite different than it was inside. Chanting is mostly done up at the front. The rest of the crowd are talking and chattering while watching the game and trying to see the screen, and are generally a lot more positive. A giant cheer goes up as the ball gets passed to Bradley right in front of goal, but that cheer is only because much of the crowd cannot see that Bradley’s shot had been saved. It takes a full minute for many to realize the situation.
Then the real thing happens. From my vantage point, I can only see the ball hit the net, but that is enough. I am immediately engulfed in a giant bear hug from someone on my right, and once released I run around screaming. 1-1. Song 2 (Woo Hoo) by Blur is blared on speakers, and the most ear-splitting chant of “USA” that I have ever heard breaks out, so loud you must be able to hear it ten blocks off.
Fifteen minutes later, it happens again. Dempsey scores, and beer flies up into the air in gallons. My notepad is drenched, and I don’t care. I thought the earlier chant of “USA” was ear-splitting, but the one that breaks out now is downright deafening. People are running around, embracing strangers, beside themselves with joy. The United States are 2-1 up on Portugal with only ten minutes left.
The chant of “USA” following the second goal continue for over three minutes. I note that you would expect this atmosphere in Germany or England or Brazil, but not (according to the stereotype) in the United States.
Sadly, Ronaldo’s moment of the match comes 30 seconds from its conclusion as he whips in a fantastic cross that finds Varela’s head, and the back of the U.S. net bulges. 2-2. Final.
It is a mark of how well the USA played that this was a result most would have taken without question at the start, but there wasn’t a single face that didn’t look as if someone had just slapped it. It is best summed up by a person I overheard walking away from the match: “****! That is literally the only word that comes to my mind right now.”
Still, despite the late disappointment, I must applaud Philadelphia on having the best atmosphere of any city I have been to so far. They may not have been the most positive fans, but they were nice to an outsider, and more enthusiastic than those of any other city I have seen. Keep it up, Philadelphia. I hope to find more places like you.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
NEW YORK - If you search, you shall find
New York is where I had the first of my truly disappointing experiences on this trip, and boy did those experiences decide to come in droves. First, a little rant - while New York’s public transportation system is held up as one of the best on the continent, it is not at all kind to outsiders, especially if you want to go much further than Manhattan. In particular, the trains in from New Jersey and the bus system to/from Staten Island did almost all they could to be unhelpful to someone who didn’t know exactly what they were doing. In all fairness, the subway system is superb (if unbearably hot in the stations), and the buses to New Jersey are quite nice, but all-in-all, I preferred Chicago’s public transportation.
Then, the soccer culture. The first day I was in New York, I was not overwhelmed by the number of people watching the games. I chose to stop in a Manhattan Belgian Bar, BXL Zoute, to watch the end of Colombia-Cote d’Ivoire and take in England-Uruguay; it was not full by any stretch of the imagination. Part of that, however, might have been due to the huge number of options one has for watching the World Cup in Manhattan. You can barely go a block (and sometimes not even that far) without seeing an establishment making every effort to advertise (with flags, big signs, TVs, etc.) that they are showing the World Cup.
The next day started off by bringing disappointment, however. I bused down to Staten Island, home of the largest concentration of people of Italian descent in the United States. With the Italy-Costa Rica match kicking off the day, I was super excited. But while I saw plenty of Italian names on the store signs on the bus ride down Staten Island’s busy Hylan Boulevard, what I didn’t see was soccer. I may not have been paying enough attention, but I didn’t see a single bar or eatery advertising that they were showing the World Cup that day. Not even the sports bar that I found had its doors open, and the match kicked off in about 30 minutes! It was like no one on the island knew about the World Cup.
Frustrated, I decided to bus back to Manhattan to a place which I knew had a reputation as an Italian stronghold: Ribalta pizza place. And boy did it live up to its billing. I may not have arrived until halftime due to my long detour, but when I got to the restaurant, I found the first establishment on my trip which was so crowded that I couldn’t even walk. People were spilling out onto the street to watch the game. And just as the Americans’ atmosphere in Indianapolis were more openly passionate than the Brazilians’ in Milwaukee, the Italians’ atmosphere in New York was more passionate than the Americans’. Even though the Italians never scored in the match (and, while I was there, they only even came close to scoring once), it was LOUD. Shouting in Italian was rampant. Even the regular conversation was approaching deafening level. It truly did feel like I was in a stadium.
There was also a significantly different mood to the atmosphere, although that may have been because of the way the game was going. For the Brazilians, it was a carnival. For the Americans, it was a very cheerful air. For the Italians, it was pure frustration. Lots of groaning and swearing to be sure, but even the conversation had an angry tone to it. As Italy lost, the upset crowd filed out. A couple unsavory things things were yelled about Costa Rica and its people, but for the most part the Italians were accepting of their loss, if unhappy.
I then went to the Central, an Irish bar in the East Village, to watch Switzerland vs. France. Everyone was quite engaged in the contest, even though there were just a couple French fans and I was the only Swiss supporter. Interestingly, the entire crowd seemed increasingly interested as the game became a slaughter. I was extremely depressed at this point, but the interest of the neutrals in such a lopsided game made me feel good about the game’s progression in the USA. Even though the New York leg of my trip ended in one of my teams getting destroyed, and I had experienced a couple disappointing surprises during my time there, it showed me that if you just go looking for it, soccer enthusiasm can be found all over the place. And finding it is well worth the search.
Then, the soccer culture. The first day I was in New York, I was not overwhelmed by the number of people watching the games. I chose to stop in a Manhattan Belgian Bar, BXL Zoute, to watch the end of Colombia-Cote d’Ivoire and take in England-Uruguay; it was not full by any stretch of the imagination. Part of that, however, might have been due to the huge number of options one has for watching the World Cup in Manhattan. You can barely go a block (and sometimes not even that far) without seeing an establishment making every effort to advertise (with flags, big signs, TVs, etc.) that they are showing the World Cup.
The next day started off by bringing disappointment, however. I bused down to Staten Island, home of the largest concentration of people of Italian descent in the United States. With the Italy-Costa Rica match kicking off the day, I was super excited. But while I saw plenty of Italian names on the store signs on the bus ride down Staten Island’s busy Hylan Boulevard, what I didn’t see was soccer. I may not have been paying enough attention, but I didn’t see a single bar or eatery advertising that they were showing the World Cup that day. Not even the sports bar that I found had its doors open, and the match kicked off in about 30 minutes! It was like no one on the island knew about the World Cup.
Frustrated, I decided to bus back to Manhattan to a place which I knew had a reputation as an Italian stronghold: Ribalta pizza place. And boy did it live up to its billing. I may not have arrived until halftime due to my long detour, but when I got to the restaurant, I found the first establishment on my trip which was so crowded that I couldn’t even walk. People were spilling out onto the street to watch the game. And just as the Americans’ atmosphere in Indianapolis were more openly passionate than the Brazilians’ in Milwaukee, the Italians’ atmosphere in New York was more passionate than the Americans’. Even though the Italians never scored in the match (and, while I was there, they only even came close to scoring once), it was LOUD. Shouting in Italian was rampant. Even the regular conversation was approaching deafening level. It truly did feel like I was in a stadium.
There was also a significantly different mood to the atmosphere, although that may have been because of the way the game was going. For the Brazilians, it was a carnival. For the Americans, it was a very cheerful air. For the Italians, it was pure frustration. Lots of groaning and swearing to be sure, but even the conversation had an angry tone to it. As Italy lost, the upset crowd filed out. A couple unsavory things things were yelled about Costa Rica and its people, but for the most part the Italians were accepting of their loss, if unhappy.
I then went to the Central, an Irish bar in the East Village, to watch Switzerland vs. France. Everyone was quite engaged in the contest, even though there were just a couple French fans and I was the only Swiss supporter. Interestingly, the entire crowd seemed increasingly interested as the game became a slaughter. I was extremely depressed at this point, but the interest of the neutrals in such a lopsided game made me feel good about the game’s progression in the USA. Even though the New York leg of my trip ended in one of my teams getting destroyed, and I had experienced a couple disappointing surprises during my time there, it showed me that if you just go looking for it, soccer enthusiasm can be found all over the place. And finding it is well worth the search.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
COLUMBUS - A game that unites a city
On my travels watching and playing the world’s game around the globe (England, South Africa, Costa Rica, the USA, etc.), I have learned one beautiful truth about the sport: soccer brings people together. Nowhere is this more evident than at the venue of one of the largest and most magnificent pick-up soccer games in the country: the turf fields at Ohio State University.
I’d first like to make it clear that I am no stranger to pick-up soccer. I’ve played with a couple friends during lunchtime at Roosevelt, with up to thirty fellow students at the thrice-weekly pickup games at Whitman, with around fifty guys at Green Lake on summer nights, even with 11 Ecuadorians in a hockey rink in Minneapolis. I thought I knew what there was to know about the pickup scene. Which is why my jaw dropped when I arrived at the turf fields, in the shadow of the mighty Ohio Stadium, and saw five full fields set up with over a hundred people playing in several games across the complex.
I spoke to Jeff, one of the more regular attendees, to learn more about the place. One of the first things he told me was that the fields themselves were a testament to Ohio State’s use of soccer to unite the Columbus community. While the fields, built two years ago, are used for many University activities, they also contain ten regulation goals and eight smaller goals, all of which are provided by Ohio State. In addition, the school cleans them, lights them, and, during the school year, rents out equipment like soccer balls to everyone who comes to play (not just OSU students).
The players are also incredibly diverse, and from all over the city. Jeff said that he’s seen as many as 300 people and 13 different ethnicities at the fields in one night, and heard as many as seven tongues in a game. I didn’t see quite that many on the night I went to play, but there were still more players playing pick-up than I’ve ever seen in one place, as well as a wide variety of nationalities, ages, and languages.
As can be guessed from the huge and diverse crowd I witnessed, the pickup soccer scene is big in Columbus, and the turf fields are known city-wide as the premier place for the game. Not only is it the most well-attended (in addition to the large numbers when I arrived, more were still showing up when I left at 9pm), but, according to Jeff, it also was “hands down” the highest quality. While there were some who were not that great and some who were average, many were quite skilled, and a couple were downright amazing. The players here are good enough that teams in local leagues will sometimes bring their teams to the turf fields to practice against the players there, and occasionally even ex-Crew players will come by to play. But don’t think for a minute that this means that the turf fields are uninviting. Unless you are playing in a serious game (and you will know if you are), all the players are quite encouraging; generous with their praise for good play, and quick to pick their teammates up when they make a mistake.
What is also nice to hear about the turf fields is that they don’t just bring people in the game of soccer; they help bring people together after the cleats have been taken off, too. As Jeff mentioned, every pickup player in the city knows about the turf fields, and chances are that most have played there at some point. Thus, the fields become a good place to make friends with people through a common love of soccer. Jeff, who isn’t a Columbus native himself, has met many of his Columbus friends through playing with them here and then meeting up with them afterwards. On any given night, Jeff will see at least 12 people that he knows (and often not the same 12) playing the game they love. To emphasize this, he points out a man playing in one of the games nearer to us, and says that he sees him there every single time that he comes here, a man he would likely not have know without the turf fields pickup games.
This scene of friendly unity in Columbus is a sight to behold, and I would recommend that any soccer player who is spending a night in Columbus check it out. While the uniqueness of the turf fields are a result of input from the community and the University working together, none of it would be possible without a beautiful game to bring them together. Soccer provides this common linking point in Columbus just as it does throughout the world.
I’d first like to make it clear that I am no stranger to pick-up soccer. I’ve played with a couple friends during lunchtime at Roosevelt, with up to thirty fellow students at the thrice-weekly pickup games at Whitman, with around fifty guys at Green Lake on summer nights, even with 11 Ecuadorians in a hockey rink in Minneapolis. I thought I knew what there was to know about the pickup scene. Which is why my jaw dropped when I arrived at the turf fields, in the shadow of the mighty Ohio Stadium, and saw five full fields set up with over a hundred people playing in several games across the complex.
I spoke to Jeff, one of the more regular attendees, to learn more about the place. One of the first things he told me was that the fields themselves were a testament to Ohio State’s use of soccer to unite the Columbus community. While the fields, built two years ago, are used for many University activities, they also contain ten regulation goals and eight smaller goals, all of which are provided by Ohio State. In addition, the school cleans them, lights them, and, during the school year, rents out equipment like soccer balls to everyone who comes to play (not just OSU students).
The players are also incredibly diverse, and from all over the city. Jeff said that he’s seen as many as 300 people and 13 different ethnicities at the fields in one night, and heard as many as seven tongues in a game. I didn’t see quite that many on the night I went to play, but there were still more players playing pick-up than I’ve ever seen in one place, as well as a wide variety of nationalities, ages, and languages.
As can be guessed from the huge and diverse crowd I witnessed, the pickup soccer scene is big in Columbus, and the turf fields are known city-wide as the premier place for the game. Not only is it the most well-attended (in addition to the large numbers when I arrived, more were still showing up when I left at 9pm), but, according to Jeff, it also was “hands down” the highest quality. While there were some who were not that great and some who were average, many were quite skilled, and a couple were downright amazing. The players here are good enough that teams in local leagues will sometimes bring their teams to the turf fields to practice against the players there, and occasionally even ex-Crew players will come by to play. But don’t think for a minute that this means that the turf fields are uninviting. Unless you are playing in a serious game (and you will know if you are), all the players are quite encouraging; generous with their praise for good play, and quick to pick their teammates up when they make a mistake.
What is also nice to hear about the turf fields is that they don’t just bring people in the game of soccer; they help bring people together after the cleats have been taken off, too. As Jeff mentioned, every pickup player in the city knows about the turf fields, and chances are that most have played there at some point. Thus, the fields become a good place to make friends with people through a common love of soccer. Jeff, who isn’t a Columbus native himself, has met many of his Columbus friends through playing with them here and then meeting up with them afterwards. On any given night, Jeff will see at least 12 people that he knows (and often not the same 12) playing the game they love. To emphasize this, he points out a man playing in one of the games nearer to us, and says that he sees him there every single time that he comes here, a man he would likely not have know without the turf fields pickup games.
This scene of friendly unity in Columbus is a sight to behold, and I would recommend that any soccer player who is spending a night in Columbus check it out. While the uniqueness of the turf fields are a result of input from the community and the University working together, none of it would be possible without a beautiful game to bring them together. Soccer provides this common linking point in Columbus just as it does throughout the world.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
INDIANAPOLIS - Match Report 2 - When the Yanks come marching in
Driving around downtown Indianapolis, you would have thought that this was a college football Saturday. Jerseys, colors, and excitement are everywhere. But it isn’t: it’s game day for the World Cup, and the United States is playing.
My destination is the Chatham Tap, considered by many to be one of the top soccer bars in the state of Indiana, if not the entire country. I get there just before half time of the Germany-Portugal game. While it isn’t packed, the bar is standing room only over five hours before the game. There are a decent amount of German shirts as well as a couple Portuguese and Iranian ones, but for the most part the patrons are decked out in red, white, and blue.
I speak to the bartender and ask him how common it is to have the bar this full before a U.S. game. He tells me that it is like this all the time. In fact, he claims that the atmosphere is much better for the United States national team than for any NFL or NBA games they have in there. Usually, for those leagues (even for Colts and Pacers games), fans will show up right before the game and still be able to find a seat, and yet it is usually standing room only for hours before the USA plays. As he turns away, two men at the bar lean over to me and add that this is an understatement. “There is no comparison” between the atmosphere of Colts/Pacers games and the national team’s matches (an encouraging sign for a city that only just got a professional soccer team this year, Indy Eleven of the NASL).
A couple of people leave at the end of the Germany vs. Portugal match (t-minus four hours until the USA plays) and I am able to grab the only two seats for a friend of mine who will be joining me later (I would have saved an extra two for my other friends who were coming if I had been able to), and the decrease in population does not last long. As Nigeria vs. Iran kicks off (t-minus three hours), a slow but continuous stream of people file into the bar. Again, almost all are wearing red, white, and blue. A couple walk in looking for a beer or a late lunch and are startled to see the place so full, having forgotten that the USA’s World Cup campaign starts today, but they are far outnumbered by the star spangled supporters in the bar.
Halfway through the Nigeria-Iran game (t-minus two hours), the feel in the bar becomes that of a supporters section. Chants of “USA! USA!”, “Oh when the Yanks come marching in”, and “I believe that we will win!” crop up with increasing frequency. It strikes me how much soccer supporters in bars try to make it feel like a stadium. Watching the Seahawks-49ers NFC Championship game in a bar in January, the crowd was mostly talking amongst themselves (except for the odd “Sea!” “HAWKS!” chant). Here, they are chanting, singing, and yelling a full two hours before game time.
As kickoff approaches, however, a nervousness encroaches upon the bar. Chanting dies down only to be picked up louder, but in between there is nervous muttering, people checking out their watches, even one woman yelling, “start the match already!” This is a must-win game for the United States, and against the opponent who knocked us out of the last two World Cups.
While the supporters in the bar chant all the way through the Ghanaian national anthem, they take up the singing of the Star Spangled Banner with full voice, cacophonously singing a couple beats behind the music from the TVs. There’s a little confusion when the people on TV start clapping while the bar is still on “banner yet wave,” but the crowd finishes anyway and immediately starts chanting “USA!”
Then, the whistle sounds, and a roar rises to greet the USA’s 2014 World Cup campaign.
Suddenly, Sounders star Clint Dempsey fires in a shot and scores 30 seconds into the match. The bar erupts. And when I say erupts, I mean ERUPTS - people jumping up and down, running around, hugging each other - and it’s only the first minute of the game!
Comparing it to my experience with all the Brazilians in Milwaukee, I note that the USA fans are more positive and, shockingly, more openly enthusiastic. Chants come twice as often as they had with the Brazilians, and for the most part the supporters are positive and cheerful at the beginning.
However, Ghana soon becomes the dominant team in the game, even though they are unable to find an equalizer. The chants of the first fifteen minutes fade into nervous looks, although the nervousness makes the cheering for every good U.S. moment all the louder. Frustration builds as the USA keeps giving the ball away and the Ghanaians lay siege to the American goal, and the fans start to yell at individual players for constantly playing poorly. Then, a backheel pass from Gyan. A good finish from Ayew. And the US loses its lead with eight minutes left.
A collective cry (coupled with several loud curses) fills the bar, then silence. Complete silence. It seems more of a “well, we deserved that” silence than a “how could that happen to us” silence, but that does not make it any less sad. An air of despair and desperation fills the room, and while people had been talking about holding on for all three points they were now hoping that the USA could salvage one.
Then, four minutes later, euphoria. The USA gets a corner, and Graham Zusi steps up to take it. The bar starts yelling like it is 3rd down in CenturyLink. Zusi delivers. John Brooks heads it in, and the USA has the lead again four minutes from time. The bar explodes in cheers louder than for the first goal. We are yelling, high fiving, jumping, hugging, laughing, crying. I was even picked up in a bear hug by this guy that I had never met before. I didn’t care, and neither did any of the other fans. The USA had scored, and were inches from getting just their seventh win in World Cup history (and first opening match win since 2002). Chants of “USA! USA!” fill the air, and , and everything is right in the world.
The final whistle sounds, and the game is over. The USA has won. Chanting resumes (“Three points for the boys!”), and people file out into the street, whooping and cheering. Walking away, I reflect that if I was impressed by the Brazilian’s support on Thursday, I was blown away by the Americans on Monday. If anyone ever says that “Americans don’t like soccer,” I urge them to go to the Chatham Tap to watch the United States play a game. Not only will their mind be changed, but they’ll instantly become a fan of the Yanks as well.
My destination is the Chatham Tap, considered by many to be one of the top soccer bars in the state of Indiana, if not the entire country. I get there just before half time of the Germany-Portugal game. While it isn’t packed, the bar is standing room only over five hours before the game. There are a decent amount of German shirts as well as a couple Portuguese and Iranian ones, but for the most part the patrons are decked out in red, white, and blue.
I speak to the bartender and ask him how common it is to have the bar this full before a U.S. game. He tells me that it is like this all the time. In fact, he claims that the atmosphere is much better for the United States national team than for any NFL or NBA games they have in there. Usually, for those leagues (even for Colts and Pacers games), fans will show up right before the game and still be able to find a seat, and yet it is usually standing room only for hours before the USA plays. As he turns away, two men at the bar lean over to me and add that this is an understatement. “There is no comparison” between the atmosphere of Colts/Pacers games and the national team’s matches (an encouraging sign for a city that only just got a professional soccer team this year, Indy Eleven of the NASL).
A couple of people leave at the end of the Germany vs. Portugal match (t-minus four hours until the USA plays) and I am able to grab the only two seats for a friend of mine who will be joining me later (I would have saved an extra two for my other friends who were coming if I had been able to), and the decrease in population does not last long. As Nigeria vs. Iran kicks off (t-minus three hours), a slow but continuous stream of people file into the bar. Again, almost all are wearing red, white, and blue. A couple walk in looking for a beer or a late lunch and are startled to see the place so full, having forgotten that the USA’s World Cup campaign starts today, but they are far outnumbered by the star spangled supporters in the bar.
Halfway through the Nigeria-Iran game (t-minus two hours), the feel in the bar becomes that of a supporters section. Chants of “USA! USA!”, “Oh when the Yanks come marching in”, and “I believe that we will win!” crop up with increasing frequency. It strikes me how much soccer supporters in bars try to make it feel like a stadium. Watching the Seahawks-49ers NFC Championship game in a bar in January, the crowd was mostly talking amongst themselves (except for the odd “Sea!” “HAWKS!” chant). Here, they are chanting, singing, and yelling a full two hours before game time.
As kickoff approaches, however, a nervousness encroaches upon the bar. Chanting dies down only to be picked up louder, but in between there is nervous muttering, people checking out their watches, even one woman yelling, “start the match already!” This is a must-win game for the United States, and against the opponent who knocked us out of the last two World Cups.
The Chatham Tap, just under an hour until USA vs. Ghana
While the supporters in the bar chant all the way through the Ghanaian national anthem, they take up the singing of the Star Spangled Banner with full voice, cacophonously singing a couple beats behind the music from the TVs. There’s a little confusion when the people on TV start clapping while the bar is still on “banner yet wave,” but the crowd finishes anyway and immediately starts chanting “USA!”
Then, the whistle sounds, and a roar rises to greet the USA’s 2014 World Cup campaign.
Suddenly, Sounders star Clint Dempsey fires in a shot and scores 30 seconds into the match. The bar erupts. And when I say erupts, I mean ERUPTS - people jumping up and down, running around, hugging each other - and it’s only the first minute of the game!
Comparing it to my experience with all the Brazilians in Milwaukee, I note that the USA fans are more positive and, shockingly, more openly enthusiastic. Chants come twice as often as they had with the Brazilians, and for the most part the supporters are positive and cheerful at the beginning.
However, Ghana soon becomes the dominant team in the game, even though they are unable to find an equalizer. The chants of the first fifteen minutes fade into nervous looks, although the nervousness makes the cheering for every good U.S. moment all the louder. Frustration builds as the USA keeps giving the ball away and the Ghanaians lay siege to the American goal, and the fans start to yell at individual players for constantly playing poorly. Then, a backheel pass from Gyan. A good finish from Ayew. And the US loses its lead with eight minutes left.
A collective cry (coupled with several loud curses) fills the bar, then silence. Complete silence. It seems more of a “well, we deserved that” silence than a “how could that happen to us” silence, but that does not make it any less sad. An air of despair and desperation fills the room, and while people had been talking about holding on for all three points they were now hoping that the USA could salvage one.
Then, four minutes later, euphoria. The USA gets a corner, and Graham Zusi steps up to take it. The bar starts yelling like it is 3rd down in CenturyLink. Zusi delivers. John Brooks heads it in, and the USA has the lead again four minutes from time. The bar explodes in cheers louder than for the first goal. We are yelling, high fiving, jumping, hugging, laughing, crying. I was even picked up in a bear hug by this guy that I had never met before. I didn’t care, and neither did any of the other fans. The USA had scored, and were inches from getting just their seventh win in World Cup history (and first opening match win since 2002). Chants of “USA! USA!” fill the air, and , and everything is right in the world.
The final whistle sounds, and the game is over. The USA has won. Chanting resumes (“Three points for the boys!”), and people file out into the street, whooping and cheering. Walking away, I reflect that if I was impressed by the Brazilian’s support on Thursday, I was blown away by the Americans on Monday. If anyone ever says that “Americans don’t like soccer,” I urge them to go to the Chatham Tap to watch the United States play a game. Not only will their mind be changed, but they’ll instantly become a fan of the Yanks as well.
LAFAYETTE - Match Report 1.5 - Allez Suisse!
I am not going to beat around the bush - I have enjoyed this World Cup so much thus far. Plenty of goals and no draws through the first eight games, and all the games, even the blowouts, were entertaining to watch. I talked with great people, watched good soccer, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Then, when the fourth day of action came around, I had a team playing that I actually cared about, and for a couple brief hours, the entire feeling changed. First, let me give a bit of context: my parents lived in Geneva while I was in college, and I have aunts, uncles, and cousins that I visit in the Bern area. Thus, I am a huge fan of the Swiss national team. So for the entire 2.5 hour drive from Chicago to Lafayette, Indiana (the stopover spot I had chosen to watch the Swiss game), the elation that I had felt in the previous days of the tournament slowly gave way to excruciating nervousness. I didn’t have many people to share my anxiety with, however. When I arrived at Professor Joe’s, a pizza bar in Lafayette, just before the noon kickoff, the only other person there was the bartender. Two men and two women had walked in by halftime, although I didn’t talk to them much. I was too nervous and saddened after Ecuador had taken the 1-0 lead, and they weren’t paying much attention to the game in any case. In the second half, I started getting the others into it with a loud whoop to celebrate Switzerland’s equalizer. While this does earn me some weird looks, I didn’t care, because the Swiss were level, and now the others were watching the match with me.
Then came the moment that, to me, shows how just one person can get a whole crowd (or at least a small group) into the game. With less than a minute remaining and the game tied at 1-1, Ecuador came streaming down the pitch, and one of their attackers seemed to wriggle free of his defender with the ball. Everyone in the bar gasped, and I felt my heart sink into the depths of my stomach, 100% sure that Switzerland had just lost. Then Swiss midfielder Valon Behrami made a fantastic tackle to stop the attack, and was suddenly sprinting up the field himself. As he played a good ball out to Rodriguez, all the people in the bar gave shouts of anticipation. Rodriguez’s cross found Haris Seferovic, and Seferovic found the back of the net. A big “woah” came up from the four patrons and the bartender, and I let out a gigantic shriek of delight. Everyone was clapping along with me, genuinely happy that the one person who had dragged them into the game ended up overjoyed.
Then, when the fourth day of action came around, I had a team playing that I actually cared about, and for a couple brief hours, the entire feeling changed. First, let me give a bit of context: my parents lived in Geneva while I was in college, and I have aunts, uncles, and cousins that I visit in the Bern area. Thus, I am a huge fan of the Swiss national team. So for the entire 2.5 hour drive from Chicago to Lafayette, Indiana (the stopover spot I had chosen to watch the Swiss game), the elation that I had felt in the previous days of the tournament slowly gave way to excruciating nervousness. I didn’t have many people to share my anxiety with, however. When I arrived at Professor Joe’s, a pizza bar in Lafayette, just before the noon kickoff, the only other person there was the bartender. Two men and two women had walked in by halftime, although I didn’t talk to them much. I was too nervous and saddened after Ecuador had taken the 1-0 lead, and they weren’t paying much attention to the game in any case. In the second half, I started getting the others into it with a loud whoop to celebrate Switzerland’s equalizer. While this does earn me some weird looks, I didn’t care, because the Swiss were level, and now the others were watching the match with me.
Then came the moment that, to me, shows how just one person can get a whole crowd (or at least a small group) into the game. With less than a minute remaining and the game tied at 1-1, Ecuador came streaming down the pitch, and one of their attackers seemed to wriggle free of his defender with the ball. Everyone in the bar gasped, and I felt my heart sink into the depths of my stomach, 100% sure that Switzerland had just lost. Then Swiss midfielder Valon Behrami made a fantastic tackle to stop the attack, and was suddenly sprinting up the field himself. As he played a good ball out to Rodriguez, all the people in the bar gave shouts of anticipation. Rodriguez’s cross found Haris Seferovic, and Seferovic found the back of the net. A big “woah” came up from the four patrons and the bartender, and I let out a gigantic shriek of delight. Everyone was clapping along with me, genuinely happy that the one person who had dragged them into the game ended up overjoyed.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
CHICAGO - Symbiotic Support
Three years ago,
the Chicago Fire gave Section 8 the goal of doubling their season ticket holder
numbers. If they met the goal, the Fire would pay for a supporters bus
to an away match in Columbus. The
leaders of Section 8 took up the call, effectively marketed ticket sales for
the club, and in just one year, Section 8’s season ticket holder membership
almost tripled, from 400 to 1,180. As a
result, the front office got more money from ticket sales, the Fire’s home
games got a better atmosphere, and the supporters got to travel to their
closest rival for cheap.
To repeat a
common line from the Barclays Premier League (England’s top soccer division), supporters make the league
possible. This is no less true in
MLS. From Seattle’s Emerald City
Supporters to Kansas City’s Cauldron to Houston’s Texian Army, the supporters
sections are the heart that directs the lifeblood of MLS - the fans. There are many
variables that can make a supporters section efficient and effective, or render
it the complete opposite. One of
the most important aspects is the relationship between the supporters club and
the front office.
I spoke to
Pattrick Stanton, Vice-Chair of Section 8, the Chicago Fire supporters group,
to gain a little insight as to what goes into one of the league’s most
successful front office-supporters section relationships. Stanton made sure to note that, at first, the
relationship with the club was not at all good.
In fact, the front office viewed Section 8 as a bunch of hooligans. Granted, violence
and disruptive behavior has been a major problem for soccer in the past
(most notably in England in the 1970s and 80s), and still is an issue in some
parts of the world. It took a lot of
work by Section 8 to convince the front office that they not only weren’t
hooligans, but that they were an extremely important part of the atmosphere at
Fire games and an invaluable cog for the club as a whole.
So what changed
all that? Part of it was a new board for
the club. This board invited the leaders
of Section 8 to dinner to get to know them and help make the dialogue flow as smoothly as possible. Since that initial effort to make sure the
relationship with Section 8 was workable, the communication ties have only improved.
Emails are exchanged constantly, and a
lot of effort has been put forth by the supporters to show the front office
that if relations were good, Section 8 could be an invaluable asset to the
club. As former Section 8 chair (and
founding member) Ben Burton told me, this communication is key, not only to
work out problems, but to help both the front office and the supporters section
grow. It wouldn’t be the same if the
front office was completely against Section 8, nor if they were in Section 8’s
pocket; by discussing disagreements, they can help see each others view points
and use that to make things run more smoothly in the future.
Having such a working, cordial relationship
with the front office creates an “I scratch your back and you scratch mine”
situation. For example, since Section 8 is not allowed to have a
profit at the end of the season, they take whatever money is left over (after
they pay for banners and road trip costs) and
donate it to the Chicago Fire foundation, which makes “significant
contributions to enhance the lives of disadvantaged youth throughout
Chicagoland.” Symbiotic benefits like
these are only possible if the front office and the supporters section like
each other (or at least get along).
Another example
of this is the work that the front offices, the supporters sections, and the
American Outlaws (the supporters group for the United States national team) do
in support of both national and club soccer.
Every club this year came out with “Club and Country” scarves, which
Pattrick admits can seem a bit shallow (“hopping on the World Cup/media
bandwagon”), but they did a lot to increase sales for the club (and, by
extension, increase the funds available for MLS clubs to improve the quality of
the league) and get supporters a lot more excited about soccer
Of course,
extensive communication doesn’t only exist in the front office-supporters group
variety. Pattrick says that there is a
lot of coordination between the supporters clubs of two teams when they play
each other, to the point of having “supporters matches” between members of the
supporters sections before the actual game.
Beyond that, the supporters sections have had to somewhat “unionize” in
the recent years, to make sure that MLS doesn’t take full control of what goes
on. While some clubs (like the Fire and D.C. United) have great relations with
their supporters groups, others (like Philadelphia) don’t. The current policy is the first strike
(instance of bad behavior by members of the section) is a warning to the
supporters section, the second strike is a ban. Ben says that the supporters
sections would prefer to police themselves and use their own methods to keep
the “bad apples” out.
Clubs do their
fair share of communicating, too. One
thing they’ve started to do, according to Pattrick, is share “negativity lists”
to keep disruptive individuals out of stadiums across the country. Pattrick likes this, but he wishes that they
would share positive advice, too. For
example, a club with weaker home support (like Colorado) could ask a team with
fantastic home support (like Portland) for some advice on how to better the
atmosphere in their stadium.
It is, as Ben
told me, a case of everyone striving towards the same goal. Clubs want to increase the bottom line, and
supporters want to create a better atmosphere for the team. The two are obviously not mutually exclusive. And, as the folks in Chicago have found out,
creating an open and constant dialogue with the people in the front office can
work wonders for all involved, and greatly improve the MLS scene.
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