Columbus – Final Part
The second half was different.
TFC were playing towards us now, pressing hard to eliminate that pesky one-goal deficit. Jim Brennan missed by inches. Maurice Edu cracked a low, sizzling rocket just a foot wide of the right post.
A scanning glance across the crowd revealed that almost all the smiles were gone.
The projectiles started to fly. Oh, things had been leaping out of the seats before the break, but those were mostly just clouds of streamers meant to obstruct Columbus Crew corner kicks. That goes both ways, of course. At one point, Toronto goalie Brian Edwards had five red streamers wrapped around his legs as he tried to set up to thwart the next attack.
I'm guessing we were an hour into the game when the first smoke bomb flew. “Bomb” overstates it a bit. We're talking a cardboard tube filled with chemicals, which belches smoke when ignited by a soccer fan.
Standing in the front row, watching these idiot bombs fly, I was getting angry. It's not just that I don't like having inebriated yobs decide when and whether I should get a face full of chemical smoke. I was also hoping the next one wouldn't be a flare. Today, it wasn't. Another time, it will.
A full cup of beer flew over my head just after the restart. By game's end, half a dozen empty beer bottles had landed on the turf. One was actually rolling around in the goalmouth. That's the kind of thing that gets huge, powerful European clubs stripped of points and playing home games in empty stadiums.
The chants took on a harder, rougher edge as well.
It's not that I'm squeamish about the “F” word. I actually quite like it. It's one of the most expressive and emotionally honest words in the English language. Chanting and singing it, in one voice with thousands of others, is a considerable rush. Many of the TFC songs have “F” words in them. It's part of the culture – part of the deal.
Unfortunately, as the second-half frustration built, a chorus of the Danny Dichio song took a very nasty turn. The tune held, but the words changed. The “F” word was coupled with “the USA.”
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.
And that ain't good for anybody.
Everyone in the crowd will tell you: it's always a few idiots who don't get it who cause all the problems. Pretty much, I agree. But those aren't the guys I want to talk to now. I want to talk to everyone else. The ones who like to drink and sing, chant and cheer, to cuss, laugh and travel with the team.
What are we going to do about this?
Fans, you've got cameras, you've got websites. Your level of communication is truly impressive. If you let the smoke-and-bottle brigade get away with it, the entire happy experience of being part of the TFC mob could easily be endangered.
I talked to one fan who knew what to do. Enraged that his prized – and expensive – TFC replica jersey had ten small holes burned in it by sparks from a smoke bomb, he grabbed his phone and took a picture of the guy who threw it. You can all do that. Post the pictures. Get out the word.
Some clown beside me was windmilling a smoke bomb, but he got grabbed by a cop before I had a chance to do anything. I'd have happily turned him in, though, and I don't care who that offends.
