By Mike Woitalla
Executive Editor, Soccer America Magazine
Sam's Army has been turning U.S. games into festivals for more than a decade.
The 1994 World Cup in the USA was the best-attended finals in history, and the host's four games averaged more than 86,000 fans per game. But something was missing.
This was especially apparent when the USA, in its final first-round game, tried in vain to overcome a one-goal deficit against Romania in a Rose Bowl filled with 93,869 fans – still the biggest crowd to watch the U.S. national team.
As Harkes, Ramos and Co., sought holes in Romania's packed defense, you could've heard a flag drop.
A bald, beer-bellied cheerleader named ''Crazy George,'' hired by tournament organizers, did prompt some ''USA, USA'' cheers, but not the inspiring constant chanting and singing one hears in Europe or Latin America.
Nor was there the jeering and mocking that can influence a referee's decision or throw off an opponent's concentration.
A few American fans who did their best bumped into each other at the USA's opener against the Swiss at the Detroit Silverdome and began a movement that would change the atmosphere at U.S. national team games forever.
Mark Spacone, John Wright and James ''Big Dog'' Welch arrived with a banner reading ''Uncle Sam Wants You For U.S. Soccer.'' When Welch spilled his soda on Mark Wheeler's seat, they got to talking, lamenting the lack of fervid U.S. support, and how all too often the visiting team's fans outcheered American fans on U.S. soil.
In Wheeler, the trio found a key ally. Wheeler, a student at Carnegie Mellon, one of the Internet's pioneer institutions, had launched what is believed to be the world's second soccer Web site, US Soccer Pages. It became a vehicle for organizing Sam's Army, along with the listserv NA-Soccer, created out of Chris Allen's private email list of soccer contacts.
Sam's Army's debut came in the summer of 1995 at the U.S. Cup when the U.S. hosted Nigeria at Foxboro Stadium. A group of about 30 red-clad Sammers convened in corner sideline seats, where they faced their first obstacle – security guards who ordered them to remain seated.
By halftime, they moved into the empty section behind the goal, the traditional spot for hard-core fans, for unbridled cheering. Others joined the group, which grew to more than a hundred. The numbers expanded at the next two U.S. Cup games, in Washington, D.C., and Piscataway, N.J.
By the time qualifying for the 1998 World Cup kicked off in 1996, Sam's Army had become a force.
After the Americans beat Guatemala, 2-0, in Washington, D.C., goalkeeper Kasey Keller threw himself into the Sam's Army section.
''That would not have been a possibility before Sam's Army,'' says Keller. ''I would have just hit the seats.''
Later in that successful qualifying campaign, the USA hosted Mexico in Foxboro.
''I'll always remember that finally the Mexican-Americans in the crowd didn't outcheer our supporters,'' U.S. captain Claudio Reyna wrote in his book, ''More Than Goals,'' of the 2-2 tie with Mexico. ''Sam's Army took up an entire 600-seat section, and their cheering and chanting ignited fans throughout the stadium. Mexican supporters certainly let themselves be heard, but for once they didn't make the most noise.''
It was the first U.S. game Monty Rodrigues, then 21, attended.
''I was in the nosebleed seats with my father and saw the Sam's Army group having a lot of fun,'' he says. ''I thought, I want to be with them. Since then I've never watched from anywhere else.''
Rodrigues is now one of the Army's organizers.
''My goal is letting people know you can come join Sam's Army anytime you want, any game you want,'' he says.
Keller says that Sam's Army has helped teach Americans how to be soccer fans.
''American sports fans think they can look away, eat their hot dog and drink their beer, but in soccer, you have to be watching the whole time,'' he says. ''Sam's Army keeps the whole crowd involved and gives us an edge.
(This article originally appeared in the May 2006 issue of Soccer America Magazine.)