Thirty years of the Portland Timbers-who'da thunk it?
Last night Mar and I and Sean joined Mark Dillon and other friends in the north end of what used to be Civic Stadium to watch the season opening match of the Portland Timbers against the Toronto Lynx. Below us, in Section 107 plus, hundreds of the Wood Shed crew danced, twirled their scarves, chanted, waved banners, thunderously beat drums and celebrated as their "boys" in white and green kit scored a trio of goals. Periodically it rained. Timber Jim, in lumberjack attire, revved his chainsaw and sliced a chunk of log for each goal.
We had a great time...
And I found myself realizing that it was thirty years ago on a wet Friday night- May 2- that I went with Kathy, my exwife, to see a game between the new soccer team in town and the Seattle Sounders. We sat in the north end, up under the roof, because it rained. The Sounders scored a goal- a penalty kick- and the Timbers didn't. I'd never seen a soccer game played before, that I can recall. I think that was probably true for a large number of the 8,000 plus in the stadium. Strange. When I think back now, I can't remember exactly why, but something about what we saw lodged itself in my heart, and has never left. There was something about the flow of the play, about the intensity and physicality without pads and helmets, about the way that players handled the small ball so adeptly on a tartan turf puddled field. Something that bypassed all my 'anti jock' cynicism.
And so our lives go. I don't know if we went back for the second game, but I know that we were there every game by the end of that season as the Timbers went to Soccer Bowl and barely lost to Tampa Bay. I know that we bought season tickets in the years after that- win or lose. More importantly, though, I went out and bought a soccer ball. I went to the park and practiced running up and down trying to dribble. I bounced the ball off the tennis court wall and tried to trap it. I kicked it as hard as I could and then ran to the other end of the field to get it. I didn't know anyone who played soccer, but I wanted to be more than just a spectator; me who'd given up on sports in seventh grade after a series of unfortunate occurences in CYO football.
And then, in early summer 1977, I responded to an article in the paper saying the Park Bureau invited people who wanted to play soccer and learn more to come to Delta Park to form a 'recreational league'. Little did I know.
Soccer has shaped my life. I have made friends for life on the playing field. I have remained physically active when I was probably on course to be a sloth. I quit smoking- given the choice soccer was more important to me. I have had the chance of coaching my younger siblings and of seeing all my children have their own soccer experiences. I have sons who still come out on the field and play with me and the 'old guys' when they have a chance. Soccer has been the lingua franca for conversations and interactions and pickup games with people all over the world whose languages I only slightly spoke. Oh, and I like to watch the game occasionally too.
Over the years, many people in Portland have said that soccer 'won't catch on' in America. Many people have said "see" every time the Portland Timbers or other franchises have folded. Many people, for whatever reasons, don't understand or like or care about soccer. I think that's fine. For me, though, soccer has given me more than just entertainment. And I watched last night, my son dancing with the rowdy crew below, with true gratitude. And with two hopes: one that I am able to keep playing, and two that this is another, long awaited, championship season.
We had a great time...
And I found myself realizing that it was thirty years ago on a wet Friday night- May 2- that I went with Kathy, my exwife, to see a game between the new soccer team in town and the Seattle Sounders. We sat in the north end, up under the roof, because it rained. The Sounders scored a goal- a penalty kick- and the Timbers didn't. I'd never seen a soccer game played before, that I can recall. I think that was probably true for a large number of the 8,000 plus in the stadium. Strange. When I think back now, I can't remember exactly why, but something about what we saw lodged itself in my heart, and has never left. There was something about the flow of the play, about the intensity and physicality without pads and helmets, about the way that players handled the small ball so adeptly on a tartan turf puddled field. Something that bypassed all my 'anti jock' cynicism.
And so our lives go. I don't know if we went back for the second game, but I know that we were there every game by the end of that season as the Timbers went to Soccer Bowl and barely lost to Tampa Bay. I know that we bought season tickets in the years after that- win or lose. More importantly, though, I went out and bought a soccer ball. I went to the park and practiced running up and down trying to dribble. I bounced the ball off the tennis court wall and tried to trap it. I kicked it as hard as I could and then ran to the other end of the field to get it. I didn't know anyone who played soccer, but I wanted to be more than just a spectator; me who'd given up on sports in seventh grade after a series of unfortunate occurences in CYO football.
And then, in early summer 1977, I responded to an article in the paper saying the Park Bureau invited people who wanted to play soccer and learn more to come to Delta Park to form a 'recreational league'. Little did I know.
Soccer has shaped my life. I have made friends for life on the playing field. I have remained physically active when I was probably on course to be a sloth. I quit smoking- given the choice soccer was more important to me. I have had the chance of coaching my younger siblings and of seeing all my children have their own soccer experiences. I have sons who still come out on the field and play with me and the 'old guys' when they have a chance. Soccer has been the lingua franca for conversations and interactions and pickup games with people all over the world whose languages I only slightly spoke. Oh, and I like to watch the game occasionally too.
Over the years, many people in Portland have said that soccer 'won't catch on' in America. Many people have said "see" every time the Portland Timbers or other franchises have folded. Many people, for whatever reasons, don't understand or like or care about soccer. I think that's fine. For me, though, soccer has given me more than just entertainment. And I watched last night, my son dancing with the rowdy crew below, with true gratitude. And with two hopes: one that I am able to keep playing, and two that this is another, long awaited, championship season.
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