Essays from a season: The 2013 Portland Timbers - By John Nyen

Essays from a season:

The 2013 Portland Timbers

By John Nyen

dedicated to my Wife, who makes me a better man.

Chapter 1: The Preseason

Chapter 2: The Opening Scene

Chapter 3: Loss

Chapter 4: Belief

Chapter 5: Violence

Chapter 6: The Orchestra

Chapter 7: Atticus

Chapter 8: Comebacks

Chapter 9: Catharsis

Chapter 10: Jazz and Soccer

Chapter 11: Dispatches from the road – Football Country

Chapter 12: Looking in the mirror

Chapter 13: Hope

Chapter 14: Dispatches from the road – Eastern Oregon

Chapter 15: The Great Wall Of Gambia

Chapter 16: Dispatches from the road – Vancouver Away

Chapter 17: Injuries

Chapter 18: I could die right now and be happy

Chapter 19: The end of it all

Forward: The end of 2012

The smoke curled, the stadium emptied and the drums were packed away.

It was over, thankfully, finally, mercifully.

The team walked off the field one last time after sending out some poor fellows to carry a vinyl sign that
promised “To the league’s best fans, we will repay you”. Opinion was split on this act. Was it humiliating to
those that carried it? Was it a kind and thoughtful gesture from the front office? It really didn’t matter at that
time.

The Timbers Army passively left the rows of green seats of the North End curve of Jeld-Wen field for the last
time in the 2012 season. The beer vendors shuttered the windows and put away the taps. The equipment
manager collected the used jerseys, socks and shorts. I walked up the stairs stepping on confetti and sticky
programs and turned around to look at the emptying field.

2012 was the season of finding where “the low” existed. It was the season where the Portland Timbers lost to
an amateur team comprised of car valets and semi-professional players. It was the season where they lost so
many games in a row by so many goals that eventually the only emotion left was that of dark humor and the
ability to make jokes about the situation.

Not only did the team find its own destructive principles but this extended to the stands as well. Everything
and practically everyone becomes fair game during a season where you allow 56 goals and lose 16 times.

I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. I was just far too ok with it being over. The team that managed to win three
games out of the final 18 games in 2012 was done playing. The product on the field just tripped and fell down

a well. The manager was fired, the general manager was protested, fan favorites were traded away, our star
acquisition was unceremoniously dropped from the lineup, and a member of the team was shockingly seen
being chummy with hated Seattle Sounder, Roger Levesque. Even the Cascadia Cup didn’t completely save
what had been an abysmal year.

There was far too much beer consumed in anger, far too much discord, far too much protest and drama.
When your team wins, the atmosphere and conviviality will paper over the cracks and fix almost any kind of
possible problems that exist. When your team loses it inflames any and every ill mood and humor that can
take over a crowd or group of people.

The next weekend, sitting in my chair, I looked through the games from the 2012 season that stayed on my
DVR. I noted the ones that I wanted to write about in the future and finished deleting the ones that weren’t
worth keeping. There was a profound sense of exhaustion at the end of the season, as though most of the
fans and players could use a month away from each other to think about how the season ended.

My last act of the 2012 season was to take my preserved Cal FC versus Portland Timbers US Open Cup ticket
and stick it to the refrigerator in the house, where it would serve as a reminder of the nadir of a season lost.

There were no more games left for Portland in 2012 and then there was darkness, winter, and deep thoughts
about the next season.

Chapter 1: Preseason
“When you hit rock bottom, you get to decide between hope and despair”

With Porter we must have belief. With Porter we must have trust. With Porter we must have patience. This
was the mantra.

After the dramatic firing of John Spencer, the Timbers decided to reboot the whole organization. The front
office went after the most famous and infamous young American coach not currently in MLS and got him.
This was the beginning of the change of everything for the Timbers. Every player from Jack Jewsbury to the
young goalkeeper Jake Gleeson would understand that Caleb Porter would be judging them as it pertained to
their fit in his system. It was clear, simply based on the 2012 season, that there would be a need to shake up
the lineup. It was clear that a continuation of the status quo would not be acceptable.

He came to Portland with the questions of a fan base pursuing him like wolves. Everyone wanted to know
how the team would play, and whether he would carry over the ethos that he established with his Akron
teams. The doubters sneered at his U-23 Olympic experience, the Akron supporters told the Timbers fans
not to worry and every prognosticator and talking head seemed to place their early bets on his success in the
2013 season.

Porter and general manager Wilkinson just put their heads down and got to work.

The date was December 3rd 2012 and things were already very clearly different.

“The Portland Timbers today announced that the club has acquired midfielder and Canadian international Will
Johnson from Real Salt Lake in exchange for allocation money. Per club and league policies, terms of the
agreement were not disclosed.”

If the 2012 season was a shit sandwich wrapped in turd burrito with an “OK” horchata finisher, the 2013
season was starting off silky smooth before the calendar even flipped. Will Johnson was a Portland Timber,
and that was only the beginning.

There were new players, there were new uniforms, there was a widened field, and the front office kept the
season tickets at the same price. There was goodwill being generated.

As the calendar flipped from 2012 to 2013, the player acquisitions started to trickle in to the team. The
Timbers Army said their goodbye to long time USL Timbers defender Steve Purdy and with him a host of
other players.

Ryan Johnson and Milos Kocic came over from Toronto and rumors began of a marquee designated player
acquisition for the Timbers. The front office was supposedly looking for someone who could run the offense,
someone who could pull the strings of the team with incisive passes and smart play. The Timbers Army
transfer investigation squad aggressively combed the internet for any rumor that involved the team that
made sense.

The first good possibility of a player that fit the aforementioned specifics broke on December 31st 2012,
sourced by Bob “Roberto” Kellett after a completely helter-skelter first date infatuation between United
States international Mix Diskerud and the Portland Timbers fell apart.

His name was Diego Valeri, and he was the one.

From the capital of Beunos Aires province Lanús Partido, Valeri comes with an interesting pedigree, with
motivation, and with a ton of mystery. He is described as a bookworm, cerebral, and seemingly
introverted. He played on loan for F.C. Porto in Portugal with international luminaries like Radamel Falcao
and Hulk.

The roster heaved and changed practically every week. You had to keep moving between all the different
rumor sites just to keep track of all the potential players linked with the team and getting released from the
team.

Michael Harrington, Mobi Fehr, Steven Evans, Dylan Tucker-Gangnes, Ryan Miller, Ben Zemanski, Michael
Nanchoff, and Frederic Piquionne are all acquired before the season starts.

There was a Barclay’s Premier League medal winner, a UEFA Champions League participant, and a rum
salesman on trial in the form of Mikael Silvestre. The former Manchester United and Werder Bremen man
comes as a huge surprise late in January to trial with the Timbers.

No one knows, at the beginning of the season, what to expect. The watchword is patience; the idea for the
pre-season is calm, level-headed analysis. I spend approximately two months searching for and taping
University of Akron soccer games on television. This is done to get an idea of the upcoming formations and
the idea of how Caleb Porter makes his teams function.

The discussion between the informed is how Porter will utilize the existing players, and how he will
implement his style of play from Akron to the Timbers. The realization is that in Porters system, the center
backs become very important and the full backs are practically midfielders. The whole system is predicated
around being able to sparkplug the offense from the back line.

When training camp kicks off on January 21st 2013, Porter indicates that he will be evaluating players and
where they fit in his system on his own time. This includes his ability to name the captain of his choice for the
team. This starts the conversation of who will be captain of the 2013 Portland Timbers. Jack Jewsbury has
carried the captain’s armband for two years, but he remains a polarizing figure as some put the blame of
2012 at anyone’s feet they can find, especially the captain of the team. His position in the field is up for
question, as well, with the acquisition of Will Johnson and his potential partnership with Diego Chara. Far too
much time is spent looking at and analyzing quotes from Caleb Porter as to the potential determination of
the captaincy of the Timbers.

February is a long cavalcade of guesswork sustained by fragmented viewings of pre-season games viewed, for
most, over the internet at odd hours. Across North America, fans tune into grainy videos of pre-season
games to see what they could learn about the upcoming season.

The games are a mishmash of the current existing style of the Timbers and the new emerging pass and move
approach that Porter has used to great effect at Akron. The new look Timbers grow into each game they play,
at times holding the ball with ease that belies a collection of players just recently put together.

A good number of Timbers Army members vacillate between abject horror and outright giddiness at the idea
of Mikael Silvestre playing center back. The former Bremen and United man is the player whose potential
acquisition launches a thousand tweets. There’s no clear cut consensus other than Silvestre failed at Bremen
and no one has a clue what he can offer the team, other than the new coaching staff.

Fans show up with flags, chants and songs for the pre-season Arizona matchup of the Sounders versus the
Timbers showing that the rivalry means something, even in the pre-season.

Portland beat the Seattle Sounders 1-0 on a Mikael Silvestre goal. This game is followed by a number of
different pieces of information released on the center back including the fact that his player rights are owned
by the Sounders. All of this information and his play starts of a crazy period of “Is he going to end up a Timber
or a Sounder” rumors that explode into a whirlwind of speculation when pictures of Silvestre training with
the Sounders end up on social media.

All of this happens as the Timbers fans slowly talk themselves into/out of/into (again) the idea of Mikael
Silvestre playing for the Timbers before culminating on February 28th 2013 when the Timbers sign the man
from France after completing a trade with the Sounders for his MLS discovery rights.

Portland finishes the pre-season with a record of 3-2-2 (W-L-D)

The final game of the pre-season on February 23rd 2013 is a 1-1 draw with Swedish team AIK. The Timbers
look ready for the season as they relentlessly press the Swedish side in both halves of the game. In a bit of
foreshadowing, the team refuses to give up after going down a goal early in the game and their persistence
and mental toughness nets them a draw after a Michael Harrington goal in the second half.

Allmänna Idrottsklubben traveled to the Portland Timbers pre-season tournament two years in a row. Some
of their fans make the trip in 2012 and 2013, forming a bond with the Timbers Army that sees AIK fans attend
Timbers matches later in the year. During the pre-season games, AIK supporters stand with the Timbers
Army to watch AIK play teams other than the Timbers in the tournament. Some of the fans even try to lead
the Timbers Army in Swedish chants/songs while AIK plays Dallas and San Jose.

This is the last time that the Timbers Army will see AIK goalkeeper Ivan Turina. Two months later, on May
2nd 2013, Turina dies in his sleep from a congenital heart defect.

The AIK fans are shattered, setting up a vigil for Turina and painting banners in his memory.

Members of the Timbers Army make a few displays in his honor that they display during the May 2rd 2013
home draw against the New England Revolution in a sign of solidarity.

With the pre-season over, it is time to get down to the matters at hand.

On February 26th 2013, Caleb Porter names Will Johnson the new captain of the Portland Timbers. It is
revealed that Jack Jewsbury has been named a club captain, at the same time. This is labeled a transition for
Jewsbury rather than a demotion. The club captain appears to be an idea to keep the “popular in the locker
room” Jewsbury on the same page as his teammates and involved with the leadership of the team.

There is a stark and fantastic realization after the captaincy announcement that 2013 first kick is only one
week and three days away. The excitement in the city is palpable and social media for Timbers fans turns into

one big countdown that bubbles with anticipation. This anxiety for opening day explodes into reality as the
Timbers Army start lining up for early entry wristbands over 24hrs in advance of the game.

As March 8th 2013 dawns, It is time to raise the curtain, to get the 2013 season started. It is time to gather
together and sing of our love for this team and this city.

It is time for opening kick.

Chapter 2: The Opening Scene
The tickets sat in my left hand as my right gripped a piece of pvc with a flag attached. The assembled crowd
roared and lurched forward, heading towards the stadium. Finally we walked through the Timbers Army
entrance. This is home, dear sweet home. The smells of the concession stands and feel of the pavement on
your feet. The sounds of the already gathered masses, half singing and talking. Peeking through the towering
narrow archway theres is a view of the field down below, partially obscured by green covered fans wandering
here and there. This is the same scene as it has been for sports in this hallowed arena for over one hundred
years. This is the field where Clive Charles, Mick Hoban, Pele and Franz Beckenbauer played. Now is the time
for traditions, the same entrance into the general admission section, hug your usher, shake a hand, yell hello
at new friends and old as the cacophony of sound informs you that yes, it is finally time.

The appearance of players heading out to train jolts the north end into a premature exuberant celebration as
they come out to train. This is just the beginning. The beer flows, the cocktails are imbibed and hugs are
given out with abandon. Children nibble on cotton candy and nachos as parents shepherd little ones clad in
miniature Timbers kits with names like Nagbe and Ricketts on the back. Infants sit on the chests of new
parents, swaddled in Timbers adorned slings with rising sun painted ear protection lightly resting on their
ears.

And then, to paraphrase the great JRR Tolkien, it is time for “the deep breath before the plunge”.

The drums kick off, the chant “PT-FC” belted out on high, and the color guard marches out onto the field.
There is tifo tonight, a display for our team and our city that shows our passion. The message plays into the
idea that the fans are still here in the stands, cheering for this team after all the pain and joy of seasons
past. The rain or shine supporters banner drops, the umbrellas open up and the center banner comes up
before the supporters in the 200 section throw blue colored streamers down onto the 100’s section to
simulate the surprisingly absent, for March, Portland rain.

Electricity. Passion. and Belief, The north end heaved in breathless anticipation.

Flags and two sticks fluttered in the sky as the teams prepared to play.

The ball was touched into play, and we were off into a haze of pure joy. The stadium was ready to explode at
the hint of any kind of positive play. Then, suddenly, there was a calamitous result.

A jetlagged Mikael Silvestre, recently back from France, misplays a ball back to Donovan Ricketts who bobbles
the ball and the resulting snafu gives Fabian Espindola a chance that he puts away. Red Bull 1 – Portland 0

And now, quickly, we revisit every bad feeling from 2012 bubbling back up in the deep parts of the psyche til
it tastes like heartburn and a heaving stomach. Nine minutes in, nine…. minutes.

Four minutes later Diego Valeri scores a goal with one of the best pieces of skill produced by a Timber in the
entirety of the season. He quickly receives the ball, flips it over Jamison Olave and as it comes down he
strikes the ball with the outside of his right foot sending it into the corner of the net. It is truly majestic. The
stadium erupts. Smoke is let off for the first time. The chainsaw fires into action. The crowd is deafening. I’m
hugging friends, family, strangers, and anyone who is within reach.

Valeri’s celebration is so memorable that it is immortalized in photos, banners and two sticks. He later reveals
that his goal celebration was him typing a letter to his young daughter and sending it to her.

But there isn’t time to think about that in the stadium as 10 minutes later, another poor judgment call by
Silvestre results in Espindola alone on goal. He fires home the opportunity and New York is back up 2-1. Four
minutes later disaster strikes again as Jamison Olave sends home a ball from Heath Pearce to make it 3-1
heading into half time.

This isn’t what it was supposed to be like, the start of the season. Portland has a new coach and a new
system. There was supposed to be possession, goals, impetus, and a defining sense of play. Now, down 3-1,
the fans wait to see what will happen in the second half.

And suddenly, the 2013 Portland Timbers arrive.

With Diego Valeri, Will Johnson and Diego Chara leading the way, the Timbers bully New York in the second
half until Darlington Nagbe strikes home a goal off of a rebound from Luis Robles to make it 3-2.

The crowd roars and sings louder as the north end collectively moves forward the few inches that remain
between their shins and the seats in from of them.

83rd minute and Nagbe smacks in a shot that Robles acrobatically saves, the ball flies out towards the edge of
the 18 yard box and is fired back in front by Jose Valencia where it is redirected in for a goal by Jamison
Olave.

Madness. Joy. Exhilaration. Mass pogoing. Hugging.

People were falling down the stands and ending up in different rows. Groups of fans were standing on the
edge of the north end wall, on their seats, on one another. The north end is a whirling madhouse of smoke,
flags, streamers, people kissing, flash bulbs, song and noise.

This is the team that the fans waited through the entirety of 2012 to see. This team is the one that seems to
have the fight. The Timbers almost win the game on an acrobatic bicycle kick attempt by Ryan Johnson at
92:11.

The game ends 3-3, a draw and a sign of things to come.

Thousands of fans leave the stadium exhilarated and exhausted. There’s a feeling of hope and renewal.
Afterwards there will be expectations, and there will be plays widely discussed and dissected. Porter admits
that Silvestre was probably severely jet-lagged, and the media cycle begins with a vengeance.

Game one of thirty-four…. Game one of thirty-four.

Chapter Three: Loss
Middle finger raised, and profanity ready at the lips.

He’s swaying back and forth to the rhapsodic sounds in the north end, scarf over his shoulder and
righteous indignation at the ready.

“A loss, a goddamn home loss.”

Everything about a loss taps into those things that you know, understand and hate. We all rationalize
these things based upon the experiences we have had.

Everything is fine, and everything is not fine

This is game two and already the raised expectations from 45 minutes of good play are beginning to kick
in.

I see him leave the stadium, pissed and flustered. I see him light up a cigarette and jump on a bike,
heading into the night. There goes disappointment, rationalization and frustration in human form.

We are all critics, and impatient ones at that. The idea of a fan is couched within the term fanatic. The
fan lives in the realm of black and white. The fan pushes away the thoughts of grey and vague. There is
only the team in front of them that denied their own team the ability to win. There is only that loss to
dwell upon. It was a simple smash and grab, a theft. Montreal came in, they performed, and they scored
a goal, leaving as fast as possible. In the brutality of this method there was a beautiful simplicity, but on
a March night in Portland, this matters little.

It was cool that evening and the stadium sparkled in the night. There was an eerie optimism to start the
game and it was one of those nights that seemed to be made for the beautiful game. Despite the horrific
start to the Red Bull match there was so much to be excited about, especially in the way the Timbers
had finished the previous game. The only problem was that 30 minutes in, the score was Montreal 1 and

Portland 0. Despite the poor marking that let the Montreal player free, it was a goal that was just
unstoppable as an overhead volley sent the ball into the far corner.

And people sang, and danced and there was renewed hope in the second half as the 11 on the field in
green put the Quebec men under pressure. Until, once again, Montreal cracked the Timbers defense to
go up by two goals.

The loss brings to mind so many bad performances from 2012 when the Timbers managed only 7 wins
out of 17 games at home. Of course, if it wasn’t for those 7 wins the 2012 season would have been
incomprehensibly worse. In the six previous seasons before 2013 there have been 93 regular season
games played at Jeld-Wen Field (AKA PGE Park). Of those 93 possibilities, the Timbers won 46 games.
This total means that over half of the games that fans have gone to see have been losses or ties at
home. The best home form came during the 2009 (10 wins) and 2007 season (8 wins but no losses)
mirroring a trend of the Timbers having good and then bad seasons. Yet it wasn’t so much the losses of
2012, but the way in which they happened. First they were daggers to the heart via Real Salt Lake and an
almost impossible to believe late comeback (two goals scored after the 85th minute with the winning
goal scored in the third minute of stoppage time). Then it was frustrating collapse against Chivas USA
with another late goal given up after the 80th minute. The next type of loss was of the soul destroying
variety to amateur side Cal FC in the US Open Cup. Certainly there were wins to brew up hope such as
the 2-1 win over the Chicago Fire and the 2-1 win over the Seattle Sounders, but sadly this form was
temporary and eventually the downturn lead to the loss of John Spencer which transitioned into the
spell of 8 straight games without a win.

Only two games into the 2013 season and for some the feelings from seasons past remain. The heart
can deceive what the eyes are able to see and even with 63% possession and some sparkling play, the
points go to the visitors from Montreal. The nightcap is the Timbers Army singing the name of former
Timber, 2011 Timbers Army player of the year, and current Montreal goal keeper Troy Perkins as he
leaves the field a winner. Whether done out of spite, love, or the lack of a chance to say goodbye in
2012, the moment is bitterly cruel to the team on the field and the front office. Maybe that is the point,
or maybe it is frustration or maybe it was just a way to salute a player. Either way, the incident sticks in
the mind of at least one player as David Horst takes out his frustration while talking to the Press about
the incident.

The next day, the fanbase will dissect all the information; and attempt to figure out what happened.
People start by tracking possession percentages, pass completion, movement, and expansion of the
defensive zone. It becomes clear what happened. It becomes clear what didn’t happen. It doesn’t

become clear at all and waters get so muddied with fact and statistics that eventually the loss
disappears into a miasma of relatively useless information. In this, we drown our pain and sorrow. It is
dissected so that the fan feels that they are involved and that somehow a portion of simple existence
has been violated by that loss.

And the simple profanity of “fuck” illustrates the pain and sorrow that comes and goes before the next
weekend and next game comes around.

In a long season, hope is eternal for most clubs. And as sure as it seems that everything isn’t going well,
there is always next week. This next week, well… this next week is a big as they come and the Timbers
will go north to the hated rival. All bets are off in this game and anything that can happen usually will.

But still.

Fuck that Montreal game.

Chapter 4: Belief
When there is darkness, our belief will carry us through.

It’s late in the game, so very late and those things that propel us forward are vanishing into the cool
night air of Seattle. There is tension in the stands, there is passion and love, and there is frustration and
longing. We bellow like a Greek chorus, screaming our invectives with the necessity of a group trying to
raise the dead.

“KEEP IT UP…. ROSE CITY”

Around me are groups of fans, new and old, shoulder to shoulder. Flags stand limply and a man raises a
city of Portland flag against the sea of rave green below. The capos leading the chants scream and plead
with every effort trying to coax more out of the assembled group. Sweat bundles around the scarves
looped over people’s faces and slowly drips down, soaking into coats, fleece and t-shirts. A young man
turns around and screams at the crowd, imploring them to get louder. We are all capos here, we are all
members of the support, and we are all required to keep up the spirits of those around us.

Earlier in the day, a swaying bus, singing and laughing with nervous intent. There are hundreds of green
clad people heading north up to a battle that they won’t fight. It is said that whatever will happen, they
will know us by the commitment of our voices and the intent of our spirit. There are those that are
drinking and eating in the aisles of the bus. Small conversations bloom into large conversations. Drunken
versions of different songs are tested out and small cadres of people keep going to the back to make
mixed drinks.

Now the half-way point of the journey and the busses line up in a row vomiting hordes of fans into the
daytime. Smoke flies from people as groups stand to smoke cigarettes and marijuana. Beers are
surreptitiously sipped out of plastic containers and flasks are passed around. The lines to the restroom
are long. The atmosphere is waiting for a spark and there is a general feeling of excitement in the air. An
impromptu game of soccer starts in the middle of the field, and people pass around the ball as fast as
they pass around drinks on the bus.

This isn’t just one hour down the road; this is 12 hours of life lived for your team and for your city. The
So, as the kids say, “It’s time get loud”.

Now it is time to head into the stadium with a steadily progressing green stream heading up the curving
walkway.

They think they have us, they think they own us, and they think that they will break our spirit.

And for 89 minutes, it does appear that they will win. With a Seattle goal, the stadium rises to its feet,
the canons of fire belch their inhumane heat and the resolve of the travelling fans is tested. It is 30, 45,
75 minutes… and each ticking moment is another precious second of time that is lost for something that
could be truly amazing.

Belief Beyond Reason: It’s an ethos encompassed in the idea that somehow, some way even in the
darkest moment… there is hope.

With four seconds left in regular time, the ball was sent in by Kalif Alhassan and it seemed to float into
the 18 yard box, defying space and time. There is breath being held in Portland. There is breath being
held in the stands. In these moments, anything is possible.

Rodney Wallace jumps and glances.

The net ripples.

The players run in celebration.

Pandemonium.

And the life in the stadium is sucked out of the home fans and spirited into the jumping, screaming fans
of the Portland Timbers that topple over one another in pure glee.

The celebration spills out of the stands into the concourse of the stadium with dancing, trumpets, drums
and groups of people hugging, pogoing and smiling with reckless abandon. There is a celebration in this
draw; there is a feeling of victory even without there being a win. Seattle lost a chance to take bragging
rights with four seconds left in the game.

All it takes, sometimes, is four seconds to send one group of fans into rapturous state of being and
others into a depression. And on the ride back, there isn’t much to complain about.

Belief when the lights flicker, belief when you are four seconds away from losing to your bitter rival,
belief, above all, that there is always a way.

Always and forever faithful

Chapter 5: Violence
The biggest things set in motion with the simplest of acts. A woman charges a man in car, groups of
people smash a windshield, masked fans steal scarves from random people, and months later a
detective knocks on a door.

Violence is almost considered part of the game in other locations of the world. It gets wrapped up
around the axle of the tribalism that happens in soccer. At one point, there was a twitter account that
reported the statistics, winners, losers, and weapons involved in fights between the hooligan factions of
Swedish ultras groups. There are still websites and twitter accounts that glorify this side of the game
outside the game.

The 1906 Ultras supporters group of the San Jose Earthquakes doesn’t like the Timbers Army. They
consider the fan base sheep, they consider them mock-ultras, and they consider their views, execution,
and mode of support antithetical to the idea of what it means to be an “Ultra”.

When the group of San Jose fans arrived in Portland, a minority of people decided to take matters into
their own hands, going after Timbers fans for their scarves, their flags, and badly damaging one
individuals’ car while physically assaulting him after he waived a scarf at their group.

After the incidents were reported and investigated by the police the vast majority of regular San Jose
fans denounced the acts. They were insistent that this didn’t represent their club and even that it didn’t
represent the 1906 Ultras. Digging into the network of available social media on the fact showed that
this didn’t resonate amongst every member. There were a number of anonymous fans that said that
these acts weren’t a big deal, there were those fans that focused their anger more on potential
“snitches” within the group, and there were those that spread misinformation regarding the events that
happened.

When I asked to speak with San Jose fans regarding reported (and often used as counter arguments by
individuals) inappropriate behavior by Portland Timbers fans, the person I spoke with refused to have
his name published because he feared reprisals by the 1906 Ultras. When I looked into the issue
further, I found out that at least one San Jose fan admitted to knowing the exact identities of those
involved. This user’s claim included the gender and initials of the people involved (later proved correct
by police reports). This statement of knowledge was made on the social media site reddit, and when the

user was contacted to share his information with myself or the police they immediately deleted the
statement.

During the second game between the Timbers and the San Jose Earthquakes in San Jose, accusations
were made that a Timbers supporter tried to run to the 1906 Ultras section and light off a flare. There
were pictures that showed that there was indeed a flare set off at Buck Shaw. The identity of the
individual was never made public. The idea of violence, of payback or reprisal isn’t the province of one
team, one supporters group or one demographic. This San Jose incident won’t be the end of issues like
this. This situation was a warning shot of something the league will be desperate to avoid.

The question of why will never be answered. It won’t be attempted to answer because the answer is
fundamentally stupid while also being complex.

They did these things because of a combination of bravado, alcohol and stupidity. They did these things
because of the same reasons that a sports fan from any other team in any other sports does stupid
things. They also did these things because the leadership of the Ultras really seems to not care whether
their members are doing stupid things. Even while front office sanctions were levied against the 1906
Ultra and the police investigation and reporters investigation rehashed and reiterated the facts of the
situation, members of the 1906 Ultras group made and displayed a banner in their supporters section
that claimed “Only in PDX is running over a female a crime”. This statement blatantly ignored the
corroborated and collected facts that were investigated by journalists and the police department in
Portland. The Police even had video from a city bus that was behind the car the San Jose fans attacked.

The Ultras took their suspensions and sanctions with absolute outrage. They aimed displays and missives
at their own front office, indicating that the suspensions and sanctions wouldn’t hold them down. The
San Jose front office didn’t help matters any more than the fans did by creating extended and unending
deadlines for sanctions. The leadership of the 1906 Ultras and many San Jose fans seemed to decide that
this was a campaign by their own front office against the group to get rid of them. Pictures of these
messages, banners and displays to the front office were found on the facebook page of individuals who
were involved in the attacks in Portland.

Even after creating the problem for which their own group was heavily punished, these individuals were
proudly displaying images of the banners that wouldn’t have existed if they hadn’t started mugging and
assaulting Portland Timbers fans.

The announcement came in on August 28th, 2013, five months after the attacks in Portland.

“Jennifer Marques, 29, and Uriel Vargas, 21, were arrested by U.S. Marshals in Santa Clara, Calif.,
Wednesday, Portland police said. They were booked into the Santa Clara County Jail and are expected to
be extradited to Oregon.

Marques faces assault, unlawful entry of a motor vehicle, harassment and disorderly conduct charges.
Vargas is accused of criminal mischief, harassment and disorderly conduct.

Police said additional suspects have been identified and they may also face criminal charges.” – The
Oregonian

The right thing happened, the fans were arrested, but it will not fix the problem. This issue is only
beginning as the tribalism, and violence of sport whether soccer or not slowly creeps into the fanbases
in MLS. Traditionally, other sports in North America have been more violent than soccer, off the field.
Recently, it has been fans of Major League Baseball and the National Football League teams that made
news with attacks and deaths. However, all this shows is that it is really only a matter of time before
things like this happen to soccer fanbases in North America. It will require leadership by other fans to
ensure that it doesn’t spread, and it will require vigilance by the leadership of the supporters groups for
the Earthquakes to ensure that it doesn’t start again for San Jose.

Chapter 6: The Orchestra
For two straight seasons, the Timbers were abysmal on the road.

When we say abysmal, that doesn’t really cut it. In 2012, the Timbers had one win on the road. In 2011,
the Timbers had two wins on the road. More telling than anything was the fact that in two years of MLS
play, the Timbers lost a combined 21 games on the road out of 34 games played. So it stands to reason
that going into the Sporting Kansas City that the Timbers Army would be apprehensive. By week seven
of the 2013 season, the record was 2 wins – 4 draws – 1 loss.

This game though, well….

It started off par for the course as the demons of Timbers games past struck via a long throw and a
Chance Meyers header. Not even a minute was gone by and the Timbers were down 1-0. The crowd in
the Cauldron celebrated, the confetti canon vomited up reams of shredded blue, and the timbers were
required to play from behind. This was the new Timbers, though, and falling to pieces on the road
wasn’t quite in their makeup this time.

The Timbers pressed, they played with a beautiful style that defied the visions from 2012. Will Johnson,
Diego Chara, Rodney Wallace, and Darlington Nagbe passed the ball around in a fashion that was not
only effective but just flat out gorgeous. It only took twenty three minutes for the Timbers to equalize
and they did so off a Valeri corner that was headed into the net by Ryan Johnson.

After watching so many games where the team fell apart on the road, it almost defied belief that
Portland would play this way and come back. It wasn’t just one person that made everything better, it
was the whole team. Previous incarnations of the MLS Timbers were seemingly built around the idea of
a soloist (Kenny Cooper, Kris Boyd, Eddie Johnson, Jorge Perlaza) who had very little help from the
orchestra. They attempted to shoehorn in a supposed Van Cliburn pianist who seemingly played with a
group of out of tune accordions.

This, though, was the Boston pops, the London philharmonic that is… if the philharmonic gave up
another goal in the 29th minute. Suddenly, it was the Chance Meyers show as a fortuitous rebound gave
Sporting Kansas City a chance to go in front, which they did. The score was Sporting Kansas City 2 –
Portland Timbers 1.

This was not a Timbers team that would go quietly into the night, though.

All season long the Timbers work on the ability to be a team first and foremost. That idea of Ubuntu in
sports form is what being part of the orchestra illustrates. The orchestra isn’t just oboes, trumpets or
tympani; it is all three functioning with strings, horns, piano, drums and sometimes even vocals. It is the
performance of the group above all individualistic approaches. Certainly there are times when the
collective will part and the focus will shine on a specific soloist. This frequently happens with piano
concertos where the whole goal is the focus of the skill with which the individual pianist plays and the
skill with which he integrates with the orchestra. However, the ideal is still there that the orchestra is
the sum of the parts not the parts themselves. That is the ethos that the Timbers work on, in 2013.
Through Porter’s leadership and ideals, the Timbers function with the idea that the sum of their parts
will exceed the individual talent of those players.

Three minutes later Will Johnson starts it off and passes off to Ryan Johnson who lays it off to Rodney
Wallace who passes to Diego Valeri. The Argentine playmaker sends a beautiful pass to a streaking Ryan
Johnson who runs down the side of the field with pace, he’s past Aurelian Collin and in on goal with a
charging Jimmy Nielsen closing him down. I’m screaming “COME ON” as the golden opportunity unfolds
and close to the very last second possible, Johnson sweeps the ball to Darlington Nagbe who stalls his
run enough to simultaneously fall down and kick the ball into the net for the equalizer.

This game.

This glorious and beautiful game that enraptures us all.

Six passes, one goal, and the Portland Timbers have tied the game. In 34 minutes the crowd in Kansas
City has seen four goals and thrilling play from both of the teams involved.

The Timbers get another chance before the half when an audacious back heel pass by Ryan Johnson sets
up a Rodney Wallace chance that Jimmy Nielsen is able to save. These are the plays that the team didn’t
make in 2012. They are flowing and running free around the field.

Then into the second half with every possible result still in the balance. The Timbers are pressing,
chasing and trying to find that killer switch. Suddenly the pressure causes a mistake and Diego Chara
picks up the ball in the midfield, fighting off a challenge and heading for the goal. He threads a pass into
a charging Rodney Wallace who simultaneously runs with the ball and waits with the ball before sending
it home with his left foot.

The Timbers are on top 3-2 and they win the game. They win on the road against a team widely
considered a favorite in the east. They score three goals against an extremely stingy defense. For the
first time ever in Major League Soccer, the Portland Timbers have a positive goal differential on the
road.

The Portland fans in Kansas City hold their heads up high, the fans in Portland slurp their drinks with
celebration, and I sit next to friends with my hands on my head repeatedly saying, “What a game….
What a game… What. A. Game”.

Chapter 7: Atticus
“Wise men say, only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you”

He walked down the aisle next to me. Covered in tattoos with closely cropped hair, he stopped to take it
in with a group of friends. Grabbing a two stick, he held it aloft for the team on the field, and there
were tears forming.

The huddle after the game stayed in solemn sincerity, a group of men and boys standing in a circle. The
fans wouldn’t leave, they couldn’t leave. Standing together during the afternoon on a Wednesday they
sang their lungs out to the group of people below.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too,

for I can’t help falling in love with you”

Chemotherapy, having a kidney removed, dealing with mortality, these are not things that an eight year
old should have to go through. When young Atticus Lane-Dupris went through the scare of cancer he
was unable to finish out the season with his soccer team “Green Machine”. Given the severity of the
situation, Make-A-Wish Oregon gave Atticus and his family the option of a granted wish. They threw out
some of the standard fare such as trips or meeting someone famous, but what Atticus wanted was the
chance to include his friends from his soccer team. Make-A-Wish, in cooperation with the Timbers, was
able to arrange the chance for Green Machine to play against the Portland Timbers.

The news hit social media and was publicized throughout Portland and the Timbers Army. Atticus and
Green Machine would face the Timbers at Jeld Wen Field on Wednesday, May 1st 2013 at 11:15 AM. The
team said they would open the gates to anyone who wanted to attend, and a facebook page was set up
that had roughly one-thousand RSVPs to the event. No one could fully guess how many people would
show up.

The first people to appear in line for the game were at the stadium before 7:00 am on Wednesday. They
stated that they wanted the kids to have the same game day experience that the Timbers get. There was

a line leading into the stadium with close to a thousand in it before 11:00 am, and it stretched out down
the sidewalk. There were the Timbers Army hardliners, executives, couriers, white collar workers, blue
collar workers and everyone in between. Families showed up with kids in tow and groups of twenty year
olds rallied together, all to root for Green Machine.

This was more than a game; it was a display of true community passion. Sports should be the
mechanism that allows for social togetherness. It should allow the illumination of spirit within a group of
people to truly come together as one, beyond the matters of race, religion or creed.

The empty echoes of shoes on concourse gave way to brilliant sunshine as the crowd gathered in the
north end. The very site of that many people at this event was stunning. The assembled group filled the
lower bowl of the north end, stretching around the curve from section 101 to section 113. People
brought flags, made custom two-sticks, and even had homemade t-shirts in support of the kids. The
Timbers Army made a custom tifo display for Green Machine with a hand painted Green Machine
banner and hand painted two sticks containing the names of each one of the kids on the team. The
drums, trumpets and capos showed up with re-written chants just for the occasion. Smoke bombs were
readied in case of Green Machine goals. The Timbers set up a custom locker room with personalized kits
and equipment laid out just like the professionals. The video team created a player introduction video.

The anthem was sung, the tifo unfurled, and the game was played. This was heaven on earth, in a place
that many of us in Portland call our true home. So many of us come from disparate places in life, with
different backgrounds, values and ideals, but the ideals of community and the love our town and team
gathered us all here at this truly great time. I looked over at friends who sang through tears that filled
their eyes through both happy and sad thoughts. I watched parents hug their children a bit tighter, and
other kids help drum to keep the beat for the chants.

Then, Atticus took an errant ball off Darlington Nagbe’s foot and streaked towards goal. He fired a shot
past a flat-footed Will Johnson and the ball streaked into the net. It was 1-0 and the crowd erupted.

“HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GREEN MACHINE…. WE SALUTE YOU!”

People danced and sang and choked up again. The bench for Green Machine erupted and the players
that started mobbed Atticus on the field. The Timbers responded with a goal, but Caleb Porter (the
coach for Green Machine) immediately ran out onto the field to rally the kids with a pep talk. The

Timbers played their part as the villain which was capped off by Will Johnson receiving a red card and
being ejected from the game. The goals flew in with quality scores from both sides as the clock slowly
ticked towards the end. With the score 9-9 a draw seemed inevitable, but there was one more bit of
magic left on the field. Atticus responded when his team needed him the most and went on a mazy
dribble that dropped Futty Danso to the ground before nutmegging Sebastian Rincon for the winning
goal of the game.

The chainsaw fired up, the smokebombs let loose and a victory celebration in Portland. Our team had
lost and there was no regret and no sadness for that. Not a dry eye in the house, and we wouldn’t… we
couldn’t stop singing.

My heart for this city, it bleeds with the colors that were gained by love not birth. It’s hard to remember
that day and not feel emotional.

This was community, this was love, and this was passion for something greater than a simple game.
With this era of commercialization, loose loyalty and lack of community engagement, sports has become
a commoditized experience that is typically reserved for those with enough money to attend games.

But this time, the tickets were free, the curve was full, the stadium chanted and sang, men and women
cried into their scarves and a little boy ran with the wind in his hair to score a goal.

We gathered because of our love. We gathered because of our belief.

All For Atticus. All for Portland.

Chapter 8: Comeback
A deep, floating, hopeful ball to a young man from Colombia, and he runs and runs to catch up to it.

It was punted there by necessity because Will Johnson was getting shouldered to the ground. The lines
are disorganized and spread out. It is one man in the middle, three offensive players up top and the
defense forms a triangle surrounding forward Jose Adolfo Valencia who had subbed on to the field six
minutes earlier.

The comeback is one of the true things that will make people love sports. Typically very rare, it is
especially a sweet treat when you watch this happen in the middle of tens of thousands of rival fans in
their own stadium.

This was the game where nothing went right, the game the Timbers were always meant to lose. The
decisions went against them, the play was awful, and the team passed more to the opposition than each
other.

The realization was made, after the fact, that from the back… (the position you would most likely see a
teammate running in front of you) that the Portland and Vancouver kits were both very similar. The red
on the front of the Portland kit had been artistically removed to make a two tone Ajax-esque kit, and
from the back, the white matched the white of Vancouver all too well.

The turf, the crowd, letting in an early goal, nothing was going right.

The away support vacillated between loud and confused. Why were the Timbers playing so poorly? Why
were they passing to the opposition? Then the belief would come back in and the songs would gain in
volume.

The first half blends into the second half and the play doesn’t really seem to be getting better.

Suddenly,

There’s a play, Will Johnson with the ball in the 18 yard box, he is pivoting, strikes the ball and raises his
hand in protestation, and there is a call…. Is it a penalty kick? Has a penalty been given? Players are
yelling at each other, the action is all at the Vancouver supporters end. The referee points to the spot
and the travelling support celebrates.

The captain steps over the ball, the home support tries to throw him off his game by rallying behind
Brad Knighton, the Vancouver goal keeper, with noise. One kick and we are suddenly level, in a game
that hasn’t been exactly pretty in form.

And yet, the fickle gods of football strike again as no more than two minutes later the Timbers give up
another goal, this time on a beautiful curling strike from just outside the 18 yard box. It’s a really
wonderful shot that was simply unstoppable from Gershon Koffie and the stadium erupts. The fans
below the Timbers travelling support turn around to give the away fans the business and profanities are
lobbed like grenades towards both groups of fans.

The 80th minute and there is a ball over the top, a collision between Camilo and Futty Danso, and Danso
puts his hands on the gyroscopically challenged Vancouver forward. Camilo goes down, Futty tumbles to
the ground and when they get up, both players simultaneously appeal to the referee. The decision is in
the hands of the man in yellow and he pulls a red card out for Futty Danso.

Game. Over.

The Timbers are down a man, down a goal, and have less than 10 minutes left in the game. They are
away from home, and playing to a home crowd that has cranked the volume up after the recent calls go
their way. They have every possible reason to close out the game, head home, lick their wounds,
complain about a red card, and move on to the next one.

However,

A deep, floating, hopeful ball to a young man from Colombia, and he runs and runs to catch up to it.
He’s bracketed by two players who seemingly have the edge on him, but somehow, in the air, he
manages to settle the ball to the ground in a manner that was probably outside the laws of the game.

It’s the arm of god, the arm of Trencito and the Timbers are the beneficiary of a call very difficult to
make from the referee’s position.

He lands, the defensive player who challenged falls to the ground, and all it takes is one step, a stop and
change in direction, another defensive player flies past him, the other is too far behind and Jose Adolfo
Valencia calmly strokes the ball home. The travelling fans celebrate, the home fans bellow their derision,
and the game is over.

Portland 2-2 Vancouver

It’s a point snatched from the jaws of almost certain defeat. Down a man, down a goal, and away from
home, the team rallies to find that little bit extra. Certainly it all came together at that time, luck that the
referee doesn’t call a hand ball, luck and skill that the ball settles perfectly for a strike, and exceptional
skill to take the shot.

It’s that glorious moment that you can’t describe to those that turn their nose up at ties in sport. If you
were there you can understand the moral boost that comes from that simple point and that wonderful
goal. The Timbers fans felt like winners, the Vancouver fans felt robbed and yet both had the same
result.

It’s the comeback, and it is wonderful.

Chapter 9: Catharsis
Catharsis:

ca-thar-sis

noun

    1. The process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions

I will remember where I was, and what that game looked like for the rest of my entire life.

I will remember what it felt like until I shed my mortal coil and float off into the void that is death.

Portland 0 – Cal FC 1

Everyone deals with pain, with anguish in the stands in different ways.

I was standing in the aisle of 107 pounding at my chest while screaming and yelling, “WHERE IS YOUR
HEART?”

We must, of course, note that this was dramatically unfair to the players who gave everything, but
found nothing on the field.

Yet, being a fan sometimes means that you can be dramatically unfair. If everything in life is couched
within some kind of safe zone of expression, then there are no highs or lows. I’d rather sink all the way
to the bottom and rebuild then live in some safe zone of expressionless nothingness.

I’ll remember that final whistle, Pong screaming at a bloody Jack Jewsbury as he left the field, Kris Boyd’s
penalty kick sailing over the bar, turning around after said kick and looking at the shot statistics on the
scoreboard.

I’ll remember my wife turning to me and saying “If there is a riot in the stands, we are meeting at Mayas
Taqueria”.

The drama and pain didn't end after the game, either. Our rivals used it every chance they could. All MLS
supporters groups took their shots at the Timbers losing that game, and the way in which it
happened. It shadowed every single thing that happened that year. It shadowed the US Open Cup the
next year. It will shadow every “worst game” for the Timbers for many, many years to come.

The fact that a team of 11 paid professionals, some of who were internationals for their country could
even lose to a collection of valet car parkers, semi-professional players and youths seemed to defy
belief. The game unfolded like a slow car crash that wouldn’t stop rolling until it skidded into your house
and exploded, burning it to the ground. Hyperbolic? Yes. True? Yes.

So when the 2013 US Open Cup competition kicked off again, there were a number of houses in the
Portland area in which the date for the Timbers at home versus the Wilmington Hammerheads was
circled.

Pictures and remembrances from that game against Cal FC swirled on social media in the weeks leading
up to the game. For some, this was ripping off the band-aid that they had applied to the festering open
wound of that loss. For others, it was a way of getting the frustration out prior to what would hopefully
be a better performance.

Walking into the stadium on May 29th lent itself to a bizarre feeling. While a number of people were
confident, there was still that lingering doubt and that strange feeling of déjà vu that permeated the
north end.

The players walked out to a massive ovation from the collection of fans on site.

It didn’t take long for all the doubts to be erased.

1:20 into the game and a corner was flicked into the net by Frederic Piquionne. This wasn’t going to be
Cal FC, again. This Timbers team came to play and to execute.

Piquionne lead the demolition crew of the Timbers as they sliced, diced and overran the Hammerheads
in all areas during the first half. He scored two goals in 17 minutes, three in 34 minutes, and then four in
45 as he struck in stoppage time of the first half. Piquionne was only the second Timber ever to score
four goals in a meaningful game.

The Hammerheads struck in the second half, but a Futty Danso goal preserved the four goal margin and
the Timbers moved on.

The mood was one of pure catharsis, in the stands. The emotions of glee and excitement poured out via
song and dance. The fans were able to celebrate without fear of watching their team drop a result this

year. They were four goals clear and for one night they could think about the Open Cup competition
without the fear of that horrifying result from last year being the last memory in the bank.

For Darlington Nagbe and Kalif Alhassan a measure of revenge was taken and full satisfaction could be
had.

For the 10,924 in the stands they could go home with their heads held high.

And when I arrived home from the game, I sank into my oversized chair, looked around and took a deep
breath. The ticket from Cal-FC was still on the refrigerator as a reminder, but the memories from
Portland 5 - Wilmington Hammerheads 1 played on repeat into my dreams of satisfaction.

Chapter 10: Jazz and Soccer
Harrington-Piquionne-Johnson-Zemanski-Nagbe-Harrington-Nagbe-Jewsbury-Jean-Baptiste-Jewsbury-
Kocic-Kah-Harrington-Johnson-Kah-Jean-Baptiste-Valeri-Piquionne-Jewsbury-Nagbe-**Chicago Fire
Player Alex**– Zemanski-Nagbe-Jewsbury-Chara-Nagbe-Valeri-Harrington-Piquionne header out for a
GK – 18:53 to 20:20 Chicago Fire v Portland Timbers.

"Music is a verb." - Ornette Coleman

"Porterball," as a term, is dead. At least it should be as dead as every other overused trite term that
describes nothing but the person who invented and says it. The reasons for this are buried within the
realm of the trumpet, the trombone, and the saxophone, so let us explore the very interesting
intersections of Jazz and Soccer.

I've made the argument that soccer is Jazz for so long that I actually don't remember where I originally
read it. Certain to say that there have been far more influential fellows than I who have made the
comparison and who influenced me to this point.

When we look at the comparisons of Jazz and Soccer the easy place to start is with the comparison of
ensemble to ensemble as both feature large and small groups working together for a common goal.
Both Jazz and soccer contain systems that can be highly regimented, highly ordered and mostly non-
divergent. We see these in the orchestral (and relatively) non-swing arrangements of people like Duke
Ellington (during some of his pieces like Brown and Beige) or in the utilization of a strict defensive
formation by someone like Mourinho.
Whilst allowing for improvisation within a certain framework, both creators (Mourinho and Ellington)
have written the plan to indicate a probable success, therefore they both look to their important
members of their "orchestra" (people like Ray Nance, Juan Tizol, Xabi Alonso, Cristiano Ronaldo) to
complete the prescribed melodic beat. This method of non-swing swing, can be placed directly in
contrast to the bending of the orthodoxy that exists within the framework of things like free jazz or the
expression of tiki-taka by the Spanish national team in which they play (at times) without a dedicated
forward. It should be noted that while in this example we use the idea of Ellington as a "non-swing" that
this does not mean that this is representative of his career. The same goes for Mourinho. Both were and
are very capable of creating moments of brilliance within the system, and of subverting the idea of a
system. Nor does this mean that this is an intentional slight upon their career. While many have tried
and failed at the composition of great works or great tactics, it takes true genius to be able to see the
scope and implement their will upon it.

Where orchestral creators like Mourinho have their counterpoint is in the anarchic game plans of teams
like Spain who believe in the composition of free formations, bending play and cycling the ball faster
than the opposition can keep time. While you could argue that Spain express the ideals of an orchestral