Reconnecting with Old Friends

May is such a lovely transition month, don't you agree? Aside from all that prattle about showers and flowers, the Euro leagues wind down and we unabashed US footie fans can finally enjoy the action in the flesh. With Fulham safely out of the drop zone thanks to our boy Dempsey, I can finally put aside the secondary distraction of the London goings-on and revel in the quest for redemption from my beloved Timbers of Portland.

As mentioned before, a Chinese excursion (planned well before the USL schedule was released, of course) prevented me from attending the home opener. And although I did catch a couple of Chinese Super League games on Guangxi Sports, and caught a glimpse of the bird's nest stadium that will be the centerpiece of the 2008 Olympics, I had to accept that spectacles of a sporting nature were not why I had come, and that the Timbers unfortunately would have to wait.

Which makes me very happy to report the wait was worth it. Despite the wrenching heartbreak and backstabbery of seeing Hugo depart to the northern bastards, and losing Byron, Mamba, and Guti (who despite the real lack of minutes was one of the few high points of last season for me), I'm forced to admit that Gavin's rebuilt squad has good potential, if presently unrealized.

Oh wait, I write something like this every year, don't I?

last year, you could almost taste the desperation and yearning, the frustration of a stilted system, questionable substitutions, and no creativity in the midfield. ... They might not be screaming out of the gate, but there's a fertile scent on the wind. The days ahead are full of promise, and undefeated at home is not a bad way to start.

Such tortured prose! That first sentence was originally about Bob Howe's last season, and ended up being even more applicable to the terrible Agnello experiment. OK, patience, must have patience and tempered enthusiasm.

Yesterday's match against Mexico's Club Necaxa, while really not a comparison of similar fruits owing that both squads fielded mostly reserves, showed some second half spark that was promising for the Timbers fan who perennially starts spring with boundless enthusiasm and ends autumn in alcohol-soaked tears of disappointment. After a middling first half that saw Necaxa deep in their shell and no creativity from the Timbers forwards, Necaxa began to push forward around the 40th minute, and forced new keeper Josh Wicks to dive low and fast to save their best chance of the game so far. Things began to get a bit more physical, and the yellow cards referee Brian Hall produced might have reminded the players that there was an actual contest of athleticism going on.

But really, i think Gavin put some horse adrenaline in the Gatorade at halftime, because 30 seconds into the second half, Bryan Jordan stormed out of the gate, slipped between two defenders on a give-and-go, and buried his shot in the lower left corner. Ah, what a welcoming feeling it was, to be engulfed by the sound of 107 erupting in pure bliss. I imagine seeing a video of oneself in these ecstatic moments would be even more off-putting than seeing yourself during sex. Less awkward moaning and head tossing, and more cackling and I-just-killed-a-wild-boar screaming. Or perhaps vice versa. Whichever, it was good to be in that sweet embrace in the afterglow.

Wicks was called on to make a few more saves in the second half, as the Timbers' Scot-Thompson-less defense blundered more than once to give Necaxa breakaways. Good to know that central defense and striker will continue to be problem spots for this club, so I can be prepared when it costs us something bigger. I should also mention that there were sparks of inspiration in the Portland midfield, matched pretty evenly with blasé passes and poor trapping. Having left both my telephoto lens and binoculars at home, I didn't get to see who our left winger was in the second half, but he provided some of the Timbers' few pretty moves to break into space, usually cut off by a foul or errant shot.

And on the ensuing free kicks, it slammed home the unfortunate fact that there was a Hugo-sized hole in our midfield. Hugo's free kicks were a thing of beauty at times, and the thought of those Seattle rat bastards using that against us makes me want to puke. Having not really kept track of Gregor's track record on free kicks (although, two missed penalties in the first game? oh dear), I suppose there's the possibility that we'll do okay in this department, but I'll need some proof this weekend.

Er, tomorrow! Sweet Lord, it's already tomorrow that those pig fuckers make the trip down I-5 to tarnish us with their presence. Well, the Verdiblancos (totally gonna steal that from Zach, no shame... but should it maybe be the Amarilloblancos now?) held on to that one goal lead, the moment of initiative from Jordan winning out on the night as the play descended more and more into gruff displays of physicality. It's a great feeling to have some confidence in your bench going into a two-game weekend and meeting your bitter rivals. Tempered enthusiasm, tempered enthusiasm.

(psst. kickoff's at 8pm on Friday, hour later than usual. kickoff's at 6pm on Sunday, hour earlier than usual)