N.A.S.L, old school Portland Timbers, etc; that IS real history

Rethinking conventional wisdom on soccer and history in the United States

We all know that the United States has no real soccer history, right? I mean, sure, we have trace elements of history: Bethlehem Steel, dusty old U.S. Open Cup yarns, German-Americans kicking around in St. Louis, the amazing international upset over England in 1950 … that kind of stuff.

But history in a global context or in broader market appeal … we’re a little light in the legend in that kind of stuff. Right?

We’re just little bear cubs, lost in the mean ol’ woods of world sport, anxious about becoming lunch for some bigger creature before we grow up big and strong. Now baseball, that’s real history. Heck, even the NHL has history. Just ask anyone in Boston. They’ll tell you.

Soccer in the United States? History? It’s always been a case of “Nah. But we’re gettin’ there.”

But is that really the case anymore?

The conventional wisdom always says so, but I’m just not so sure anymore. In fact, I’m quite certain that things are changing fast.

This is on my mind because of things going on in Portland. Tonight, little ol’ Major League Soccer grows a little more hair on its skinny (but developing) legs when the new Portland Timbers pop the top on tier one soccer in Oregon. Portland’s JELD-WEN Stadium isn’t as big as Seattle’s Qwest Field. The city isn’t as large as Seattle. So we won’t have crowds of 30,000-plus at each kickoff. On the other hand, I have every confidence the Timbers will habitually fill the house, and that downtown Portland will rock like the *Double Deuce on Saturday night. (*Roadhouse reference for historical effect; R.I.P. Patrick Swayze.)

This will do plenty to further amp up MLS development, the same way additions in Toronto and Seattle delivered their caffeine jolts to the game and the league.

And by the way, Portland does have soccer history. (Keep reading; 800 words after the jump ...)

Later, Charles coached at the University of Portland, through which Kasey Keller, Tiffeny Milbrett, Steve Cherundolo, Heath Pearce and Shannon MacMillan all passed during their college days. So the links and extensions to Portland’s place cannot be underappreciated.

I was in the stands in 1997 (well, in the press box, which was more or less in the jostle of the stands) when the United States defeated Costa Rica in a World Cup qualifier. Tab Ramos scored the critical goal that helped nudge the United States ever closer to qualification, and the atmosphere that afternoon in Portland was stunning. It remains one of my fondest memories in the game – and I’ve been fortunate to have been inside the stadium for countless international biggies.

Remember also that Major League Soccer just celebrated the 15^th anniversary of its inaugural match. (Tip of the hat to you, Eric Wynalda.) Check this out: within the next year or so, some young man will step onto an MLS field who wasn’t even born when Wynalda curled that ball into the far post in San Jose. Imagine that. (And to my good friend, my editor at the time, who told me playfully but in earnest opinion in 1996 that “this league will not be here in five years,” I say to you: “Wassup?!”)

Last year I was asked to be part of a group that traced some of the important events in soccer history in Dallas. As I started jotting down notes, then listed to others in the room, I was floored by how much history really exists. The club soccer scene began to proliferate in the 70s, nourished by all the hard-working immigrant pros who played by day, then evangelized and coached by night. Kenny Copper (the older one) was on national television spots at the time, hawking Dr Pepper. That “I’m a Pepper” campaign was huge! That’s real history, and soccer was a part of it. Not long before that, Kyle Rote was winning ABC’s kitschy Superstars Competition, which helped establish soccer players as “real athletes.” Meanwhile, coaching and front office characters (some good, some eccentric and some as rotten as foul-breathed pirates) were laying the bricks on the lower floors of pro soccer history.

For every Krazy George, the high-energy drum banger who helped Lamar Hunt and other NASL pioneers build audiences and grow the game, there was an unscrupulous agent or middleman who stole money and soured the founders on it all.

And the bread!

If you are of a certain age in Dallas, you have amazing memories of the old Ownby Stadium, where the Dallas Tornado performed from 1976-79 before crowds that frequently topped 15,000. They had good teams, and true world legends like Johan Cruyff and Franz Beckenbauer played gracefully through, generating abundant buzz along the way. But the element that links all these memories in Dallas was (no kidding) the bread.

That’s because Ownby Stadium on the SMU campus sat right across the street from the old Mrs Baird’s Bread plant. Prevailing southerly winds would carry those magnificent smells right over Ownby’s rickety stands. Everyone who went to see the Tornado play knows about the bread – and that’s the kind of irreplaceable history that you just can’t manufacture through cheesy PR spin.

And that was just in Dallas. Most of the old NASL cities will tell similar tales. Go ask about Rodney Marsh’s playing days in Tampa Bay. ("I wasn't the white Pelé, he was the black Rodney Marsh!") Or about Allen Willey’s days in Minnesota. Ask about the inimitable George Best, and whether he was really still at his best when he wore the NASL uniforms in Los Angeles, San Jose and Fort Lauderdale. (Did I miss any stops? George made the rounds, ya know?)

Harry Redknapp’s first managerial gig? In Seattle. Look it up.

Heck, we’re almost 25 years removed from the Cosmos spectacular rise and fall.

That’s real history. Pretty soon, we’re going to have to re-visit our default thinking on this matter – this prevailing school of thought that calls the United States a domain of precious little soccer history. Because the game really does have ever-growing stacks of stories, characters and narratives to chronicle and to recall.