Earlier this week, a good friend of mine told me he’d been invited to the Toronto FC game – it would be his first one ever. On Thursday morning, I ran into him again and told me he was trying to get out of going.
“Why?” I questioned.
“Well first, because they suck and second, it’s going to rain,” he answered.
Now this is a conversation we must have all had countless times, but when I searched for a response, I came up with nothing.
In 2007 I could say: “But being in BMO is such a unique experience, you need to try it out!”
In 2009 I could rebut with: “Things are looking up now, we’re right in the playoff race!”
Even at the start of this season, I could point out: “We’ve got a new President who turned D.C. United around, so I’m hopeful!”
But now, there’s nothing.
As former mayor David Miller pointed out in his letter to Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment, “There once was magic at BMO Field. The latest reshuffle has made the possibility of that magic returning almost certainly disappear.”
While I can’t bring myself to believe that the magic will never return, it’s certainly hard to come by right now. The atmosphere last night was dismal. For the first time, we could hear players’ conversations with each other from behind the goal.
So it brings us to the question my friend and many more concerned loved ones have asked all diehard TFC fans:
“Why do you keep going?”
This can also be a tough question to answer on the spot, but after some thought, it becomes quite simple:
We go to support our players.
To see Robert Earnshaw score his first tally in almost three months.
To clap for Joe Bendik as he takes his place in goal.
To cheer on Bobby Convey as he runs doggedly up and down the flank.
To applaud Steven Caldwell when he crushes a striker.
To hail Jonathan Osorio as a future hero whose stepped up to the present challenge.
We also go for the quips you can only hear at BMO. There were two standouts last night.
One came from a few rows below after a Chicago player completely shanked a shot: “That looked like if I had shot, except I would have pulled my groin after – ‘Oh, I swung so hard at that one!’”
Later, when Justin Braun placed a header right into Chicago goalkeeper Sean Johnson’s hands, someone shrieked: “Why can’t you be more like Lloyd Braun?!”
And finally, we go for the community created by the chants, like this one directed at Johnson last night:
“Who ate all the pies? Who ate all the pies? You fat bastard, you fat bastard, you ate all the pies!”
While many people may have abandoned ship, there’s a select breed of us still here. It could be stupidity, masochism, passion, or a strange mix of all three. Whatever it is, it’s the same thing that drives fans to support teams in second, third and fourth divisions around the world.
Although the train wreck in the offices upstairs may dominate our minds all week, once we step in the stadium all we care about is what’s happening on the field. And that’s why it’s impossible to leave.
There’s been a lot of debate recently about who the “real” supporters are, but it’s clear now that the most dedicated supporters aren’t even involved it. The lifers aren’t trashing the team on call-in shows or ranting about “ML$E” on the message boards. They’re the ones in the stands each game – whether they’re sitting or standing – supporting the men on the field and patiently waiting.
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