If it's true that all sports are tribal, Portland (specifically) and Cascadia (generally) have what appear to be the most impressive tribes in North America.
At least that's what a recent road trip to Portland to catch the Whitecaps and Timbers tilt on Aug. 20 taught me.
First, the Portland tribe.
If you're in downtown Portland and you're not sure how to get to Jeld-Wen Field, just follow a tattooed man or woman sporting a green Timber jersey. He or she will likely be wearing thick-rimmed black glasses, riding a bike or a skateboard, taking a streetcar or walking towards the stadium at mid-afternoonfor a 7 p.m. start.
Join the migration and you eventually find yourself staring at three giant posters of what can only be described as three hipster lumberjacks (two men, one woman) holding axes and chainsaws who guard the stadium entrance.
Think about this for a second. This is Portland the Progressive. The city of local. The city of bike lanes where "the dream of the '90s," as the TV show Portlandia put it, is alive and breathing in all its mack-jacketed glory. Yet the same city embraces a soccer team that mythologizes the industrialization of the forest.
It's a beautiful contradiction; a mix of progressive and edgy. Above all, though, it shows the city doesn't run from but embraces who it is. "Timbers" is as emblematic and poetic as "Whitecaps.
To cap this hatchet-yielding image, the local soccer choir is called the "Timber Army." It occupies almost the entire southern end of the stadium and comes replete with formalized dances, log-based sacrifices and the requisite hymns and chants to the soccer gods.
Picture the Southsiders, the Whitecaps mighty supporters group, but double the size... at minimum. At the game I attended, Timbers Army could possibly have been 3,000 strong. The footie soldiers are armed with hundreds of flags, chants and a "no one comes into our house and doesn't pay the price" attitude.
For example, during the live rendition of the U.S. national anthem, those with scarves lofted them into the air, holding on to one end to mark each crescendo.
(Note to Portland: having a live performer sing the U.S. anthem after playing a canned version of the Canadian anthem is, well, not very classy.)
At one point, another chant required all 3,000 to jump to the right for 10-or-so jumps and then jump back to the left. This continued on.
Again, stop and imagine this for a second: it's a packed stadium. There's no room to the right or left. And 3,000 people are jumpingin unisonback and forth several feet from right to left and back again.
Each time the Timbers score, you hear what sounds like the distant roar of a chainsaw. Turns out, it is the distant roar of a chainsaw. At field level, in front of the Timber Army is a 10-foot length of log. With each goal, and it took only one minute and sixteen seconds into this game to see it happen (more on the disappointing game shortly), their lumberjack mascot fires up his real chainsaw and cuts a round off the sacrificial tree trunk.
A chainsaw. A real chainsaw. Edgy.
He then takes the round of wood to each section of the stadium and holds the trophy aloft like the prize kill as each section gives thanks to the gods for a good hunt.
But this is Portland, right? Such bacchanalia cannot be without repentance. So, in an apparent attempt to appease their guilty progressive souls, the scoreboard proclaims that for every goal scored (read: kill) they will plant a tree.
Karma restored. Eco-system rebalanced. Army fanaticism absolved.
Speaking of edge, it would have been nice if the Whitecaps 11 came with some.
It was clear from the opening whistle this was going to be scrappy one that would go to the team with the most desire. Portland was only five points out of a playoff spot, well within striking distance. The Whitecaps need a miracle to earn a playoff spot but there's regional pride and the Cascadia Cup at stake. (The Cascadia Cup is a supporter-bestowed honour given to the best of the three Cascadia teams: Portland, Seattle and Vancouver.
In the first half alone, Davide Chiumiendo was on the receiving end of at least three heavy elbows to the face and head. And he wasn't the only one to feel such pain. The same story played out all over the field. This match was not going to be about beautiful soccer.
Said Portland Coach John Spencer, "It wasn't about tactics tonight. I don't think it was about coaching. It was just about really digging deep and finding that extra yard or two to make a run or to make a tackle."
Problem was, there was little fight back from the 'Caps, save for a few exceptions, such as such as Jay Demerit's strong, full game performance in the back.
It's no wonder the emotional Hassli was disgusted and left the pitch when interim coach Tom Soehn replaced him with young Omar Salgado (who got some kind support from the appreciative and knowledgeable Portland fans who know him from his youth national team appearances).
To be fair, the 'Caps could have used the sidelined and injured Alain Rochat to initiate more of the attack out of the back. But coaching decisions made matters worse as Soehn decided to bench the usually reliable Jonathon Leathers for rookie Jeb Brovsky, a move that seemed to be punishment for Leathers' unusually unreliable poor performance from the week before.
The rookie Brovsky played a solid game but why would a coach take a starter out of the back line when the team was already one starter down?
Perhaps Soehn is trying to give young players more time, having given up on this season and hoping to build for the future.
But defence wasn't the problem. The game was lost in the midfield where Portland's Diego Chara out-muscled, out-hustled and out-desired Vancouver.
As the Portland coach said, "I thought Diego Chara was fantastic. He looked, no disrespect, like a man amongst boys tonight."
With two convincing losses in a row and little to play for, it would be easy for the 'Caps to pack it in. Let's hope they don't.
If they needed inspiration, they could have found it from the top corners of the stadium where hundreds of Whitecaps supporters chanted loudly and proudly, having made the trip to the Rose City for the road game.
At the darkest hour, outnumbered by the Timber Army and with the Blue and White all but finished, Vancouver fans pulled out the Canadians chant of last resort when down to an American side: "We have healthcare!"
With fans like this on both sides, the only thing left is to wonder how it took the MLS so long to come to Cascadia.
Twitter: @GeoffreyD123
