Football | Visit to the Portland Timbers: Not football, but soccer

Old Trapper is the name of the Portland Timbers' official beef jerky. At least, that's what the advertising boards in Providence Park tell me as I stumble from the catacombs into the stands with my $13 beer. High beer prices no longer impress me after my baseball experiences in recent weeks. It's a different story, however, with the artificial turf glistening in the sun, which the staff spray with water before the game. It takes a while for me to grasp what I'm simply not used to in German stadiums.

While the final decisions in German men's soccer were made a few weeks ago, the season is still underway for the Major League Soccer (MLS) teams. The Timbers are currently on course for the playoffs in the Western Conference, one of MLS's two divisions. The visitors from Colorado, the Colorado Rapids, are also aiming for the knockout round.

The conditions were perfect for an exciting game – and Portland is not only considered a liberal hipster hotspot in the US, but also particularly soccer-mad. Alongside the Timbers, the Portland Thornes women's team regularly packs the 25,000-seat Providence Park. The sport also benefits from the absence of its usual rivals. Portland boasts one NBA basketball team for its more than 630,000 residents. The city is not represented in the top leagues for ice hockey, baseball, or American football .

Affordable tickets and great enthusiasm

I bought a ticket for the west stand for a reasonable ten dollars. The green wooden benches we're sitting on fit well with the Timbers' concept, which is entirely dedicated to the lumberjack cult. The same can be said for the appearance of my seatmate, with his stylish hipster beard, who exudes absolute enthusiasm from the moment the game starts. I feel alienated by this exuberant enthusiasm, wonder why, and find the explanation in my toxic relationship with 1. FC Kaiserslautern . "Great save!" shouts the young Portland native as Canadian Timbers goalkeeper Maxime Crépeau catches a shot while standing.

The real atmosphere comes from the North Stand, home of the Timber Army. The Portland Ultras openly oppose fascism and support LGBTQ rights. In 2019, this led to a clash with the MLS. The league temporarily banned the Timber Army from displaying the symbol of the Iron Front, a social democratic alliance in Germany that resisted the Nazis. After protests from the fan scene, the MLS finally backed down. Today, against the Colorado Rapids, the three arrows of the Iron Front are once again hanging in front of the fan base, along with LGBTQ and Black Lives Matter banners. No direct attacks on Donald Trump can be seen in the stands. Nevertheless, the North End, as Portlanders call their North Stand, in itself feels like a statement against the US President.

While the Timber Army drums and sings, the Timbers make no use of their superiority on the pitch and appear fidgety. Instead of playing the final pass, they finish hastily. "Everyone here wants to be the big star," I think to myself mockingly – as if that weren't the case in Europe too. The basic rules of football, at least, turn out to be the same on both sides of the Atlantic: Portland doesn't score and is punished by Colorado with a goal in the 33rd minute. My bearded neighbor also begins to feel a bit bad for a moment. The penalty awarded to the Timbers shortly before halftime only changes things briefly: Chilean striker Felipe Mora misses with an unmotivated shot into the middle of the goal, where Rapids keeper Nico Hansen is already standing.

St. Pauli fans as lead singers

During the break, I scroll through the information provided to me when I bought my tickets online. I come across an overview of Timbers chants. What others have to work hard to learn through regular stadium visits, the Timbers Army offers readily. The texts are supplemented by videos that show the chant, or at least its melody, in action. I click on the first link and suddenly see St. Pauli fans in the away section. The Timbers are inspired: "The whole curve sings and dances for you" becomes "We're gonna take over the world you see." Later, I find out that the Timbers Army occasionally flirts with German in its battle cries. The Portlanders even call their own fan meeting place, which opens across from the stadium on game days and also has a shop, the "Fanladen." The pronunciation is then left to the imagination.

The second half begins, and all sorts of smells fill my nose. Pizza, nachos with cheese, popcorn—everything's available here in the stadium too! The Americans happily dig in, as if this were just for entertainment. Once again, I reflect on my socialization as an FCK fan and realize how closely my fan status is linked to pure suffering. Happily munching popcorn while my team is playing to make up for the deficit? Unthinkable. I look to my right and suddenly see that behind the goal on the south side of the stadium, it's like a food court in a shopping mall. Fans have made themselves comfortable at high tables, munching, and I feel more like a foreigner than ever.

Timber Joey's big appearance

In the 58th minute, the Rapids smashed the ball against the Timbers' crossbar from five meters out. Portland countered immediately, and Brazilian Antony slotted home to make it 1-1. The cheers erupted, and I imagined hot dogs flying through the air. What I actually saw were clouds of green smoke rising from the ultras, and a burly guy wearing a lumberjack helmet and a Timbers jersey firing up his chainsaw. Timber Joey, a very special kind of mascot, had the glorious task of sawing a slice off a tree trunk after every Portland goal. The tree trunk, decorated with Timbers scarves, was ready in front of the fans. Afterwards, the man toured the stadium with his wooden slice, presenting it to the cheering crowd. That's the tradition.

A few minutes later, the Rapids are down a player. Young Wayne Frederick from Trinidad and Tobago has completely overstepped the bounds. Finally, Timber Joey gets to fire up the chainsaw again in the 76th minute. The Timbers win 2-1, and my bearded neighbor and I leave the stadium satisfied – even though he only noticed ten seconds too late that the offside call had already been made for what appeared to be a 3-1 lead. Once outside, I jot down one final positive for my MLS experience in Portland: no stress getting home on public transport. Everyone else is driving there anyway.