I wanted to resist the urge to give in to the Timbers Army. Having grown up in opposition to Detroit's "Hockeytown" self-flagellation, my alarms don't need much prodding to go off.
It is hard to refute. You can feel how much soccer matters if you watch a regular season game from Providence Park. The only professional teams in town are the Thorns and the Timbers, so there is very little to distract from them.
There was no better place to hold the MLS Cup than central Portland. The league craves for the biggest game of the year and would get the atmosphere, tension, and unique look it so craves. A win for Portland would have made them the center of American soccer, with the roar of the fans throughout the league. The Thorns cover-up of abuse and sexual coercion among the team was the biggest success story of MLS.
The MLS final yesterday was an amazing exhibition of everything MLS is, weird, disorganized, and exhilarating in the most crazy way.
All you need to know is that the game started like this.
At Amazon, you can buy AirPods 2 for $100.
The best of intentions, undone by the league's control, is looking a bit silly but entertaining us all anyway. MLS is in a nutshell.
Providence Park was packed to the rafters and rocking at the noon local start for the game. You would think that the Timbers would want to take advantage of the home crowd and at least spend the first five to ten minutes tearing into NYCFC and having the place absolutely frothing. Instead, they didn't even attempt a shot until 15 minutes in, and then they gave up possession to NYCFC and looked for a counter. They were one of the lowest pressing teams in MLS, and they did that most of the season, so you can't argue too much. If you let Diego Char destroy everything in front of the defense, it's usually a sound strategy, even if it shakes one to the core to see a 35-year-old with more energy and speed than the other 21 players around him. This felt like it needed to be something different for a segment of the game.
The Pigeons were not laying siege to Portland's goal, but they were careful to not get picked off on the counter the Timbers were waiting for. The problem for the Timbers is when they play defensive and in their own half, it only takes one mistake to ruin the whole plan. A mistake like failing to mark the league's leading scorer.
The ugliest moment of the game was when a Portland fan threw a beer onto the field and hit Jesus Medina. The atmosphere can always boil over, proving that MLS' journey into adulthood is just as rough as anyone else's. The NYCFC bout with white supremacists infiltrating their crowds is an example.
The atmosphere on the field was not helped by the ref taking the field with a policy of "I'm not going to yellow card anyone for anything in the first half short of swordplay." With tackles flying in from all angles, and with Villarreal waving his arms around like he was directing traffic, it was obvious that he was calling nothing. The biggest game in MLS should be played with the same theatrical but confusing refereeing that we see week in and week out.
You would think that being down a goal at home would make Portland crazy in the second half, but it didn't. They had one shot on target. From the 60th minute on, they were launching aimless crosses. They looked like they had run out of ideas. They probably did.
If you don't know how to make homemade explosives, leave the ingredients close to each other and it might happen by accident. A ref who is not harsh, an increasingly nervy NYCFC, and crosses launched from everywhere can be dangerous. They were in the very last minute when the Timbers simply fist-fucked the ball into the area and Dairon Asprilla went crashing into about three different defenders.
It probably wasn't art. It was not the result of a plan. It gave MLS and everyone watching an unforgettable moment, watching the stadium shake with pure relief and disbelief in the rain. You chuckled.
Portland didn't seize the momentum in extra time, even after throwing all their attackers to tie it. They were better, but not enough. Leaving things up to penalties is basically leaving things up to the wind. They didn't blow their way. The ribbons around the trophy were blue instead of green, because NYCFC's Sean Johnson got his hands to one more penalty than Portland's Steve Clark could.
The inflatable MLS Cup collapsed before the match, leading to a perfect bookending image.
Ronny Deila, the manager of NYCFC, strpped down to his underwear before lifting the trophy. That is MLS in one afternoon. Ridiculous all the way through, hurtling to the finish line with every part of the car working against one another, spurting oil and smoke, clangling loudly and chaotically, and ending mostly naked, screaming in the rain, putting a smile on the face of anyone who watched all
