It’s just as well the Portland Timbers have North American soccer’s most fervent and unwavering support behind them, because there’s certainly no shortage of haters. Sure, their magnificent tifos are a bona fide work-of-art – and their attendance figures are mightily impressive, too – but that hasn’t bought them much favour in MLS circles. The Columbus Crew will be getting plenty of neutral support in Sunday’s MLS Cup final.
“Timbers fans can’t wait to become the most insufferable fan base in Major League Soccer,” reads the headline of one satirical article keen to point out the team’s perceived flaws. Indeed, there is a certain aura about the Timbers – they might say it’s self-assurance, others might counter it as arrogance. Whatever it is, the Portland Timbers polarise opinion like no other North American soccer club.
Rival fans have a store of insults to hurl at the Timbers – most of them involving a combination of “hipster”, “smug” and “craft beer”. There’s even a Facebook group called ‘I hate the Portland Timbers’ – although with only two likes so far it’s hardly gone viral. Pacific Northwest rivals the Seattle Sounders even called out the Timbers as a poop club in a Tweet a few months ago – albeit written in emoji form, which somewhat robbed the message of any real venom.
“It really doesn’t take long in conversation with other MLS fans for the polarising aspects of the Timbers to come up, whether it’s Caleb Porter, the Timbers Army, Will Johnson, or Merritt Paulson,” says Timbers blogger and podcaster Chris Rifer. “The club and its supporters do everything with an overt confidence.”
As a franchise, the Timbers are particularly bullish. Owner Merritt Paulson has become MLS’s go-to-guy for a bold statement of intent, often showing little regard for how such conviction will be perceived elsewhere. “He’s never been afraid to voice an opinion or push a button,” says Rifer. Porter, too, is of the same mould, setting lofty targets immediately upon his appointment as a rookie manager two years ago, firing shots in pretty much every which way (even in the direction of Pep Guardiola). In sports such swagger is interpreted as pompous – especially when delivered with a Cascadian twang.
The Timbers don’t help themselves sometimes, though, especially when it comes to shaking the hipster tag (not that the Guardian helped when it named them in its list of hipster football clubs). Maybe it’s just the stigma that comes with playing in the city of Portland, but maybe it’s also the non-profit healthcare provider that holds the naming rights to their home stadium, or the way the club offsets any potential environmental damage caused by Timber Joey with the planting of a tree for every goal scored, or the barbecued-tofu sandwiches and spinach salads on sale to fans at games. A local brewery even released a craft beer to commemorate Porter’s first season in charge of the club two years ago. It’s almost as if the Timbers are actively angling for a spot on Portlandia.
Indeed, it’s probably safe to assume that more skinny-jeans wearing, mohawked fans support the Timbers than any other MLS club. However, there’s also little doubt the Portland Timbers have significantly added to the colour and intrigue of MLS. The tifos the smoke-bombs, Timber Joey, the sell-out crowds and even the craft beers make them North American soccer’s most compelling club, whether that compels admiration or derision. The Portland Timbers are captivating, regardless of what prism you view them through.
There’s something about the franchise that transcends MLS’s otherwise closed circuit borders – a club almost designed for the social media age. The Timbers might not boast the jersey-shifting might of the LA Galaxy, or New York City FC – Liam Ridgewell doesn’t quite have the pull of David Beckham or Andrea Pirlo – but they still hold a global appeal that feels more organic. Soccer fans around the world may not be able to tell you their centre-back pairing, or who is likely to start up front in Sunday’s MLS Cup, but they may well know who Timber Joey is or will have retweeted a spectacular tifo display of theirs at one point or another.
North American soccer has a long history – as do the Portland Timbers – but the club in their present incarnation embody the modern-day direction of MLS. It might be easy to parody their strong millennial following, and supposed hipsterdom, but are all these things really so bad? Strip away the stigma that dictates what’s hot and what’s not, and the Portland Timbers appear to do very little wrong, even more so if they lift their first ever MLS Cup this weekend. You may not like their occasionally uppity fans, but that’s your problem more than it is theirs.
The commitment of their fanbase cannot be questioned, neither can the legitimacy of their grassroots and community involvement. If the scourge of modern soccer is the detachment of clubs from their supporters, the Timbers certainly go against the grain. “If you want to be Timbers Army, you already are,” goes the slogan of the club’s most prominent supporters group, and they really do mean it. Well, as long as you can get hold of a ticket at one of the 80-odd sold-out league fixtures they’ve played over the past five years.
And yet the Timbers still find themselves the target of MLS’s collective ire and taunts, which will surely be ramped up ahead of the championship game. Porter can make good on his own convictions by lifting the MLS Cup, vindicating the swagger with which he has walked. And there’s nothing worse than a smart-ass who turns out to be right – unless he’s one of your own.
Maybe it’s just jealousy, although Rifer’s not convinced. “I’m not sure ‘jealousy’ is the right word,” he says. “Supporters around the league are – and absolutely should be – proud of their club and their own fan culture. And fans in Portland understand that, just like everybody else, they stand on the shoulders of other supporters around MLS, too.” They should still get rid of those barbecued-tofu sandwiches, though.
