A growing army of passionate soccer fans isfinally making the U.S. national team players feel less like visitors in their own land.
As John Wright ripped some duct tape to secure a banner on the front-row railing at RFK Stadium, he marveled at the volume of red-clad U.S. fans behind it. His trip was well worth its cost, even before kickoff, just to be around dedicated fans like himself.
Wright spent the past four years in Laramie, Wyo., where military commitments prevented him from attending many soccer games, and recently moved to Ohio.
ôThere is almost no soccer in Wyoming,ö said Wright. ôThey donÆt even have boys teams at the high schools. Youth soccer is about all there is.ö
So when Wright attends a World Cup qualifying match, he feels like a nomad who has rediscovered his lost people. And as one of the founding members of SamÆs Army, the largest and loudest fan club of the U.S. menÆs national team, he also has a sense of accomplishment. The banner he helped hang read, ôSeattle Brigade.ö
Chapters of the SamÆs Army have materialized in numerous cities since the organization formed in 1995. At least one fan from each of 38 states attended the United StatesÆ opener of the final qualifying round in Columbus. Against Costa Rica in Kansas City two months later, 47 states were represented. So is there a Wyoming brigade?
ôJust me and my wife, I guess,ö Wright said with a chuckle. But now that he and Juli have moved, someone else will have to represent Wyoming.
In the past four years, SamÆs Army has grown to a paid membership of about 1,000, with another 10,000 or so registered in its database as non-paying members. Hundreds of volunteer hours from people like SamÆs Army president Mark Spacone, his brother Chris and Web site manager Mark Wheeler facilitated that expansion.
While the increase in membership has been gradual, Mark Spacone noted, the success of the U.S. team early in this round of qualifying generated new levels of interest. More fans are traveling to qualifiers ù both home and road ù than ever before. And perhaps most encouraging, more U.S. fans are following the lead of SamÆs Army and making noise at games.
ôI think thatÆs the biggest difference this year ù there are more non-SamÆs Army folks coming to games to participate, rather than just to sit and watch,ö Spacone said. ôThat participation part of it is what draws them.ö
U.S. coach Bruce Arena has been outspoken about improving the national teamÆs home-field advantage since taking the reins in 1998. Besides pushing for venues that are less likely to draw opposing fans, Arena has tried to reward loyalty. At each of the first three home matches of this round, Arena invited season-ticket holders of the local MLS club to attend the teamÆs final practice before the game. After training, Arena addressed those fans and answered their questions, showing a much more friendly, witty side than he normally shows the press.
In Washington, Arena addressed the season-ticket holders about an hour before kickoff as they were served a free breakfast. His comments were shorter and more pointed.
ôObviously, today is going to be quite a challenge, both on the field and in the stands, as you can see,ö Arena said, surveying the large patches of blue and white that were forming in the empty stadium. Honduran fans were first in line at the gates and therefore first to their seats. ôThank you for being here. We need to hear you loud and clear for 90 minutes.ö
A WAYS TO GO. The Honduras match ended up being a disappointment off the field as well as on it. The Guatemala match in Washington during the semifinal round was distinctly bipartisan, but the aggressive pre-sale for that game left very few supporters of the visiting team in the lower deck of the stadium. This time, despite similar ticket-sales strategies that received criticism in The Washington Post, there were ample Hondurans on both tiers.
ôUnbelievable,ö said a miffed Earnie Stewart. ôItÆs great for [Honduras], I guess, for them to come out in the United States. YouÆre talking to people before the game and theyÆre saying itÆs going to be 60-40 [percent] in favor of the U.S. and then [it was more like] 70-30, not in favor of the U.S.ö
StewartÆs estimate was probably exaggerated, but the Honduras players urged their boisterous supporters by waving their arms as they walked on the field. The roars when the visitors scored and when goalkeeper Noel Valladares saved StewartÆs penalty kick were just as ear-piercing as those after the two U.S. goals.
ôFrom all the people that are complaining about unfair treatment of Honduran fans, I think they still managed to get 30,000 people here today,ö Arena said. ôOnly in America.ö
Though laced with cynicism, ArenaÆs latter comment aptly sums up the unique challenge that U.S. Soccer organizers face. None of the other teams in the region need to worry about such a demand from opposing fans who reside within their country. A large contingent of Jamaican fans are likely to greet their Reggae Boyz when they visit Foxboro, Mass., Oct. 7.
So U.S. Soccer will continue to try to rally enthusiasm around the national team, especially in cities where qualifiers will be held. The problem with trying to match other nationsÆ passionate support of their teams is that crossing certain lines can prove counterproductive.
A group of U.S. fans calling themselves ôProject Mayhemö tried to organize an American ôwelcomeö for the Honduran team upon its arrival at Dulles Airport, but in publicizing the gathering managed only to provoke more than 800 Hondurans to show up and drown them out. A subhead in The Washington Post referred to the dozen or so U.S. fans who showed as ôhooligans.ö Though the terminology was inaccurate, it revealed how easily antagonistic behavior can backfire and further smudge soccerÆs already tarnished reputation in mainstream American media.
During the game, plastic bottles sailed onto the field several times and two smoke bombs landed on the field squarely in front of the SamÆs Army section. In Columbus last year, a pro-American crowd nearly hit its own players with plastic beer bottles when an apparent U.S. goal was waived off against Costa Rica.
ôI wish our fans wouldnÆt throw things on the field,ö one U.S. player said. ôThat really doesnÆt help us. It used to be one of the good things about our fans ù they had a little more class and respect for the players than [fans in] some other nations.ö
MORE EDUCATED, MORE INVOLVED. The prevalence of Honduran fans may have made the RFK match seem like a step back compared to the other recent home qualifiers, but a new level of understanding and spirit among U.S. supporters showed through.
In 1996, when the U.S. Olympic team played in front of a soldout RFK Stadium, visiting PortugalÆs mere 1,000 or so fans could be heard throughout the match while the Yank-friendly masses sat and waited to be entertained. A similar scenario occurred in qualifying for the 1998 World Cup when JamaicaÆs backers held a clear edge in decibels despite having fewer numbers.
Against Honduras, however, the U.S. fans matched their counterparts in volume. After the Catrachos stirred their faithful with a long possession off the opening kickoff, a resounding ôGooooseö cheer sprung up when Jeff Agoos broke up the play. The crowdÆs indignant shouts in the 15th minute may have influenced a late whistle after Cobi Jones hit the turf. Similarly, U.S. fansÆ well-timed jeers brought extra attention to Samuel CaballeroÆs second-half foul that earned a caution after some delay.
ôI think our fans are more familiar with the process of qualifying,ö said U.S. Soccer general secretary Dan Flynn. ôThey know what each of these games mean.ö
Furthermore, a identity and bond has formed among the hard-core group.
Like Wright, Dallas resident Kevin Lindstrom met his spouse by following soccer. Just before leaving for Washington, he and Laura learned they had been granted the right to buy tickets to the finals in Korea and Japan next summer.
ôWhen I met a woman who knew more about the U.S. national team than I did, I knew IÆd found my match,ö Lindstrom said. ôOur airline tickets [to Korea/Japan] will be our honeymoon present.ö
During the past year, the United States has learned it can depend on about 20,000 enthusiastic supporters at its home matches. The question is how long before that base can grow large enough to fill the more profitable larger stadiums and establish a true home-field advantage.
ôThe fans definitely make a difference,ö forward Joe-Max Moore said. ôAnybody that tells you they donÆt hear the fans when theyÆre out on the field is crazy. It gets to you.ö
by Soccer America associate editor Will Kuhns