The timing of Manchester City’s trip to Portland, part of the English side’s “2010 USA Pre Season Tour,” couldn’t have been better. Not only is Portland gearing up for the debut of MLS in 2011, but local fans are still buzzing from the World Cup and there’s a growing sense that professional soccer has the chance to become a major force in the everyday sporting lives of Americans. You see it on the soccer complexes around the city, whether it be the thousands upon thousands of youth players that swarm around Delta park every weekend or the scores of teams criss-crossing the Pacific Northwest to attend tournaments, camps and other training vehicles. If this year’s World Cup taught us anything about the state of US soccer, it’s that we have the talent and the population to genuinely compete, and with legions of hungry young players on the cusp, it’s now just the difficulty of instilling good strategy up and down the system that keeps us from a chance at winning the whole caboodle.

Josh Berezin/Portland Sportsman

Getting back to the game at hand, I want to liken the feeling at Merlo Park to that of a graduation. And not only because the intimate (university) field is mostly comprised of simple metal bleachers that don’t offer one bad view among the five thousand (plus the sneaky few that found clever ways to watch for free: I saw a someone I know after the game who refused to shake my hand because his palms were covered in sap. He’d watched the whole game from the branches of a pine tree behind the north end); no, the graduation feeling had more to do with a palpable change: in expectation, in talent, in desire for the future. It’s like Portland is ready for the next step and we’re stuck in some senioritis of the late-stage 2010 season. (The Timbers mid-season performance as a kind of second semester dive?)

Some details to push the graduation analogy further: we had Gavin Wilkinson matching wits with Italian star manager Roberto Mancini, he of two Italian Cup championships and numerous other titles. There was our own Mamadou Danso and Co. going up against the relentless attack of Adebayor, Bellamy, and the fantastic young midfielder Adam Johnson. We had Portland favorite Ryan Pore trying to author something on the attack with his emerging strikers Bright Dike and George Josten against a strong Man City defense. And while the final line of 3 − 0 in favor of the Premier League side was telling, Portland emerged from the game proud of its team’s performance.

Postulate: Portland had zero chance of winning the game.

I think readers will agree with that statement, but let’s tease it out a little. What does that mean, exactly, to have a professional game in front of a sold-out crowd that had come to observe what was essentially a foregone conclusion? I don’t think it’s rocket science to come up with good reasons, but on the surface it’s illogical. We watch our favorite teams from the stands in the hopes that they will perform well enough to win. In the case of Timbers v. Manchester City, though, the stakes were different. We came out to watch superior players — players we generally only see on a screen — perform brilliantly in front of our very eyes. In a way, it would have been disappointing if the Timbers were to have won, if, of course, that had meant the world-class players on Man City had played below expectations. To me, the perfect score would have been something like 5 − 3 Man City, with three hard-fought goals by the Timbers (including the opening goal just to make the place go nuts), and five goals of different types for the visitors (a flying header like we saw from Adebayor, a bending strike off a free kick, a break-away goal, a long strike from just outside the box, and, for good measure, a bicycle).

As it was, we did witness a good game that could have easily turned out 5 − 3 or 6 − 2 or something in that neighborhood. Portland’s first twenty minutes, and what seemed to be their primary tactic in the first half, was to play tight man defense and feed the midfielders on the ground, who in turn unleashed long passes in the air toward Dike in the hopes that he’s break free for a one-on-one with Joe Hart. The strategy didn’t work out, but those were the most evenly matched minutes of the game, before City’s pace simply wore down the home side and lead to an increasing number of mistakes on the Timbers’ back line.

Josh Berezin/Portland Sportsman

With the first half winding down and the score still tied, rising star Adam Johnson (well worth watching during the upcoming Premier League season) took over the midfield and created two goals for his Man City teammates. The first strike came in the 43rd minute with Johnson coming up the right side and confusing the Timbers’ defense on his approach. He pushed the ball toward the net and it appeared to glance off several players, including Stephen Ireland — the official goal-scorer — on its way in. But for all the first goal’s mediocracy, goal number two made spectacular amends. A minute after their first tally Johnson raced down the same side and created enough space against his defender (Ian Joy, I believe) to loft a curving pass toward the center of the pitch and the perfectly timed flight of Emmanuel Adebayor’s forehead. Even at full speed and without the benefit of instant replay, the exchange unfolded as if in slow motion. The brand of football everyone had paid for. So there we were at the 44th minute, now fully impressed by the Timbers’ pluck and play, but happy to see the visitors stretch things out a bit and catch a rhythm. The outcome, if it had ever been, was truly unimportant.

Of course, that rhythm was not to last. As predicted, both sides completely overturned personnel and unleashed what might be considered the second teams onto the field. For the Timbers that changeover took the length of the second half, but for Man City, which had a different objective, the change was instant. According to Assistant Manager Brian Kidd, who spoke highly of Portland and the Timbers players after the game, City wanted to test out a few different strategies in order to best understand what kind of players they have entering the Premier League season. With so much new money on the books and such a deep wealth of talent, you can’t blame the guys for testing the full roster (minus the real gems that are still catching their breath from the World Cup, including Carlos Tévez and David Silva) in game play.

While the second half wasn’t quite as entertaining, aside from some very close chances for the Timbers, we were able to witness the prodigious talents of young Brazilian striker Jo. He’s had an uneven career up to now, but it seems that his eye for the goal and his physical presence should make him at least a capable goal-scorer off the bench for the Blues this coming season. It was Jo who completed the game’s final line with a strong left foot in the 68th minute, establishing space at the edge of the box and working his way left before turning on the ball and powering it past the diving Cronin.

Despite my wish that the sun would come back up from the horizon and the two teams would agree to play another full game, ninety minutes finally did elapse and the game ended for what I can only assume was a completely satisfied Merlo Park. There wasn’t a whole lot to dislike about the entire proceeding. If Friday, July 17th was a graduation, I look forward to seeing what comes next.

Josh Berezin/Portland Sportsman

To the local sportsman yearning for a spot of good news, Wednesday’s US Cup matchup between the Timbers and hated rival Seattle Sounders offered several reasons for optimism. The house was packed. The privileged perch at the MAC was in full bloom. The little pocket of downtown near PGE Park hummed. And the 15,422 in attendance could be forgiven for imagining that 2011 MLS had already descended on our fair city.

The last time I covered a Timbers v Sounders match, I was new to the rivalry and so I viewed the game with, if not skepticism, at least the cool eyes of an outsider. I knew that Seattle was reviled, but I did not fathom the extreme dislike that exists between the fans of our two clubs, especially, on our grounds, from the Timbers faithful toward Seattle fans who drive down I-5 for a match. But in the days that have followed Portland’s loss-by-penalties to the Sounders, I’ve been impressed by the local fanbase’s ability and willingness to see the game as a promising bit of entertainment rather than a cause for the kind of blustery anger I was afraid would emerge.

It’s as if the fans wanted a good showing and a dose of civic pride even more than they wanted a win, and while the win didn’t come in the end, the first two desires came true.

DAY-GLOW PAJAMAS, BIZARRE COUSINS

With both their home and away jerseys too closely matching Timbers colors, Seattle resorted to their third-level kits, which make the team look like a ten-pack of fresh tennis balls bouncing around the pitch. You almost have to wonder whether these neon unis were designed with only Timbers games in mind, which in turn makes you feel special, knowing the bad guys would degrade themselves and their entire aesthetic just for you. Compliment, no, but satisfying? I think yes.

Robby Russell/Portland Sportsman

But there’s something behind the uniform similarities — a marketing problem, perhaps — that I think Portland and Seattle should be aware of. While it’s true that many great sports rivalries have an aspect of geographical proximity to them (Yankees v Red Sox, Cardinals v Cubs, Packers v Vikings), most of those examples are fortified by other, more apparent differentiators. Looks can be one; history another; and then there’s something like personality. Despite our ability in the Northwest to rattle off differences between the two cities, most of the country casually clumps us together. We’re the eco-friendly bohemian towns that drink good coffee and dress in, well, green. Some sports fans in New York, at least the ones that don’t read the NY Times food blogs, might think we’re pretty much the same city altogether, like a west coast version of Minneapolis and St. Paul. It’ll be interesting to see how these two clubs try to define themselves against each other in the MLS if and when the league gains more prominence across the country.

For now, though, I sense a bit of cousin rivalry when I attend the games. There’s a layer of pain and hatred that can only come from being family. The disdain dates back more than thirty years, which in US soccer terms is a geological age, but essentially it’s a turf war, and as with other high-passion/small-stakes competitions, claws grow sharp. The fear, though, is that the parties involved will forget that people outside the family feud might quickly lose interest.

WORTHY ADVERSARIES

Of the game itself it should be said that both teams played admirably, if not spectacularly. You can find a more granular assessment of the play-by-play elsewhere, but this embedded reporter was more focused on the general shape of play and specifically the Timbers standouts — players the team would do well to retain. Our back line excelled against the Sounders, especially the imposing Mamadou Danso, who looks even taller than his listed 6’3” and wears his #98 very well. Ian Joy, slighter but no less feisty, and the veteran Scot Thompson also played well in the back for Portland, which kept Seattle off-balance most of the night and didn’t allow the opponent to make clever plays in the center. Couple the strong defense with Bright Dike’s increasingly persuasive attacking style and you have the skeleton of a contending MLS side.

Robby Russell/Portland Sportsman

It’s impossible to say whether Seattle would have performed better had they played all of their starters instead of rolling out a mostly reserve team, but their on-field product left a lot to be desired. In fact, Portland outplayed Seattle for most of the game: better passing, better ball control in the center of the pitch, better thinking on the counter attack. And while Sounders net minder Kasey Keller has a more impressive pedigree than our own Steve Cronin, having served his national team in four World Cups and recorded what was by all accounts a stellar clean sheet against Brazil some twelve years ago, he’s grown long in the tooth. He looked slow on Dike’s goal in the 38th minute, and for much of the game he lumbered around his box like an aging giant.

GOD BLESS THE MAN WHO GETS BACK UP

In Portland, Oregon, 2010 might be remembered as the year international soccer in general and pride for the USA national team specifically made the leap into mass appeal. A common story of this Cup: I waited in line at 6:30am on a Wednesday morning to enter a local bar and watch the USA match up against Algeria, and by the time Landon Donovan scored the winning goal in the 91st minute to put our side into the knockout round, the place was absolutely packed, rocking, dizzy, and not just with card-carrying members of local soccer leagues. We’re talking shirtless, fraternity-tinted bros who’d probably spent the previous night bouncing coins into beer-filled Solo cups and bobbing their heads along to the sweet sounds of the Black Eyed Peas. Same guys who yelled things like: “Fuck no he wasn’t offside” before whispering to next dude over, “What’s the rule on offsides again?”

Robby Russell/Portland Sportsman

These are the same people used to seeing NHL players skate back onto the ice with sutures holding their gums together or gridiron football players getting smashed full speed, helmet to sternum, only to bounce right up and spike the ball smiling. And let’s face it — we need these dudes to care about the sport if only to ensure that professional soccer continues to grow Stateside and secure the kind of funds required to attract talent. So I’d have to think the repeated image of World Cup players crumbing to the grass after minor contact or (now infamously) covering one’s face in agony after having been hit in the chest, isn’t going to sit well with American audiences over time. (And yes, the fantastic camera work has frequently exposed close-up footage of painful contact that might have have seemed like kid stuff from distance, but still. So much flopping.)

Watching this sport you want to love and these players you want to respect flop around is uncomfortable, like watching a beautiful woman spit out a bit of food during a dinner conversation. You want to pretend it never happened.

But I think US soccer dodged an even bigger bullet during this tournament when Donovan scored the winner against Algeria to advance our side. If the Americans hadn’t won that game, the argument for keeping soccer a second-class sport over here would have added a significant piece of evidence in the form of Dempsy’s unfair offside call. Just imagine, the most talented team in USA history being forbidden the opportunity to advance by a series of unfathomable calls: first the shocker in Slovenia that nullified Maurice Edu’s goal, and then the Dempsy affair. It would have set us back eight years if not more. With so many other sports offerings in this country, why would the fringe fans continue to care about a tournament whose refereeing vacillations can ruin in one second what has taken four years to construct? It’s infuriating, especially with the growing prominence of video-aided replay in other leagues and for other sports (which is topic for another conversation altogether). I’m just saying: good thing the US was ousted during a fair match rather than being unjustly turned away again, as was the case in 2006 and, worst of all, 2002.

RESULT

Winning by penalty kicks is about as pedestrian a result as you can imagine. Yes, the winner advances, but the victory feels divorced from the game itself. And the loser can only console himself by saying, “Them’s the rules.” (It’s not my intention to dissect the different ways to end tournament soccer matches, but in short relying on penalty kicks to decide the outcome seems just a hair better than drawing lots or shooting free throws.)

Robby Russell/Portland Sportsman

But the old ogre Keller stopped two of Portland’s tries, and in the end his teammates managed to net four of their five chances for the victory. The Sounders live to play another day in the 2010 US Cup, taking on the Galaxy and their returning hero Mr Donovan. It would have been nice to welcome the country’s current soccer hero into town, but so it goes. We had our chances, we played a solid game, and, as they say, them’s the rules.

CLOSING NOTE: CAUCASIAN WAVES OF CONCERN

I have to add a note here at the end, if only to start some conversation about something that bothers me about gameday at PGE. In the course of some Timbers fight songs, notably “When I Root I Root for the Timbers,” fans throw both arms out in front of them like they’re trying to shoot lightning bolts from their palms or signal an oncoming vehicle to stop. But from a slightly removed vantage point, say, from behind the throng, the gesture looks considerably more menacing. Especially when you notice that over 90% of the arms in question are white. Am I the only person made uncomfortable by this uniform, militaristic outpouring? The math is pretty simple: many people at once, elbows straight, hands forward, palms open. I realize there are only so many ways a human can hold his arm while cheering, but historical context is important here, especially in soccer where racism has been mixed up in fandom for as long as the sport has existed. I guess this is more of a question than anything, since the persistence of said cheer makes me feel like I’m the only person who gets the willies when those familiar drums start up and the arms fly out. So what’s the verdict? Has this question come up before the Capos before, only to be disregarded or explained successfully away?

Robby Russell/Portland Sportsman

From the first kick, Minnesota made it clear that they wanted to win, out-working the Timbers, pushing the tempo against a confused defense and dominating control of the midfield with a strong presence and sharp passing. It only took 20 minutes for them to finally break through, with Ely Allen skillfully controlling and a 40 yard cross with his chest and burying the ball into the back of the Portland Timbers’ net.

Following the Minnesota goal, the Timbers began to possess the ball better and control the attacking half, creating chances and putting some shots on goal. Just as the visiting side’s energy and passing really began to deteriorate, the ref blew the whistle indicating the end of the half. Portland 0, NSC Minnesota Stars 1.

The second half saw an additional boost of energy from the Portland Timbers team, sparked by the hustle of midfielder Tony McManus, who came on after the break. This energy was threatened in the 52nd minute when Portland midfielder James Marcelin was sent off after committing a foul inside the Timbers’ penalty area, awarding the Stars a penalty kick. However, Timbers Goalkeeper Steve Cronin came through with a massive save on Melvin Tarley’s attempt, and kept Portland’s chances alive.

Cronin’s save fanned the flame of the Portland attack, who, despite having one less player, mounted barrage after barrage against a tiring Minnesota defense for the remainder of the game. If it wasn’t for some fine goalkeeping from Minnesota’s Joe Warren, the Timbers would have easily found the net once, if not twice, with several reasonable chances falling at the feet of Portland’s offense. Despite the effort, when the referee blew his whistle for full time the scoreline read 0-1, and the Timbers had failed to win again.

All things considered, Portland didn’t play half bad. I would even go as far as to say that they played well… for 70 minutes, at least. However, the dreadful start against a feisty and motivated Minnesota side allowed just enough room for them to find the net and go home with three points.

With this loss, Portland Timbers remain in second to last place with 13 points in 12 games.

The opponent: Sonoma County Sol [1]. The objective: live to see round two. The result: a convincing Portland victory that wasn’t certain until 58 minutes into the match.

So we were playing a bunch of high school buddies from NoCal in a single-elimination tourney on our home turf. Everyone in the sparse crowd [2] expected a win, and what with Portland’s recent, drastic standings dive, the fans were dying for a genuine romp. When you’re feeling shitty about yourself you go out and fuck with someone on an even worse streak. It’s what human animals do.

Except it took the Timbers 58 minutes to score. That’s right. A full half and a dozen or so minutes into the next before Suzuki and Co figured out how to unlock (a term I’m stealing from the amazing World Cup commentators) the Sol defense.

(OK. There were no photographs taken of this game, and I’d like for people to read to the end, so I’m having to cut out a lot of my regular bullshit and tangent. That probably makes you happy, doesn’t it? Well, so be it. I’ve added some footnotes at the bottom to flesh out the finer points, but in general let’s soldier on here. Nothing but the facts. For now, please enjoy the cheesy-as-fuck unveiling video that I hope came free from RARE Design, the company that created Portland’s new crest and a wealth of other inane professional and semi-professional insignia.) [3]

Timbers New Crest

So don’t get me wrong. The Timbers were never going to lose this game. Never. Sol just weren’t going to score, not against Portland’s back line, which looked like stone pillars against Sonoma County’s fleeting attack, stepping solidly into every run and flicking away even their most skilled passes. So the outcome wasn’t the question. But until Doug DeMartin was able to work to the Sol touch line and thread a beautiful pass across the mouth of the goal for a streaking Nimo [4] to bury in the netting, it wasn’t clear how long Portland would take to get a scoring chance to succeed.

Once the Timbers broke the ice, so to speak, they continued to pile on. Suzuki, who played the entire game and used his still-considerable quickness and grit to frustrate the overmatched Sol defenders, made the game 2-0 some thirty minutes later, and James Marcelin sealed it right just before the final whistle with a solid finish to what was essentially Rodrigo Lopez’s goal (beautiful pass, hard to miss).

Fun stat that brings home Portland’s dominance: Shots — Portland 18, Sonoma County 2. Yes, a 9:1 ratio. The game could have easily ended up 7-0.

There was plenty more to discuss (a reporter I’d never met before who smelled of dryer sheets and didn’t utter a word the whole game; the failure of PGE’s wireless; the pancake fries which were so strange, just little strings of dough that should have had something else inside but did not; the opening rainbow rooted firmly in section 107; and more and more), but let’s bring this thing to a merciful end. Let’s talk about the U.S. Cup.

2010 is the last year Portland will have to slog through the first two rounds of minor-minor league action, since MLS teams enter in the third round like some army of men gathered by Gandalf to make their triumphant entry whenever they damn please. It works like this: 32 teams start the single-elimination tournament, grouped regionally. Hence Portland’s slot against the kids from Cali. The first game involves some pro team like the Timbers with a team going on the ride of its collective life. The field shrinks to 16 following that game, which again tries to be at least semi-regional. Then the trick: when the sixteen are halved again, a set of 8 MLS teams refattens the bunch and we’ve got a full 16 again. Then as you’d expect: 8, 4, 2, 1. Champs.

And so we’re alive and well in the Cup, and hopefully it’ll bring Seattle down here for another good old fashioned vitriol fest. I know I’ll be there.

[1] All in all, the Sol players seemed quite nice, and they were elated to play in front of the small but boisterous crowd at PGE. I’m guessing the Cup game will be the biggest many of them play in their lives. my evidence being their profiles on the official site, the fact that they still list their high school teams on their profiles, their incredibly homogeneous hometowns (Santa Rosa, Santa Rosa, Davis, and Santa Rosa, ad nauseum). At the end of the match, after Portland had cemented the victory and emerged as the clearly stronger team, the visitors walked past the Timber’s Army faithful and clapped up in appreciation. They were having a moment. The TA clapped back and said kind things in return, such as, “Get your shitty loser ass off my pitch” and “Go home, fucktards.” I nearly wept at the outpouring of emotion.

[2] The game was announced some two weeks ago, previously unknown and unmarketed to fans. The result, partly due to even more shitty June weather, was the thinnest attendance I’ve seen in a few seasons. Even the normally packed TA sections — which usually spill some three aisles in either direction — were condensed into three health clumps total.

[3] To his credit, Merritt Paulson, after getting railed at the unveiling and apparently shouting at a fan to “Stick his minor league crest up his minor league ass,” or something to that effect, met cordially with Timbers fans at the game on Tuesday and talked them down off the ledge. Because seriously. It’s ugly, it’s cheesy, but it’s not the end of the world. There’s a fucking hole in the ocean, right? Bad design isn’t worth flipping on that high stress cancer switch that we all know lives somewhere deep down dark inside ourselves just waiting for that bad juice to hit red line.

[4] Nimo. You should have seen him holding that slice of the log. The thing was larger than his torso. Little, lightning Nimo.