Clean Sheet, Perfect Night

At last! After all the planning, all the talk, the expectations, and a few predictable jabs from North American football fans (you know, the game where fat guys grab each other and fall down), Sounders FC played their first MLS regular-season game.

You could not have scripted this any better. The stands were packed with a sea of bright green jerseys, jackets, hats, and oh yes, scarves. The standard pre-first game pep talk from the suits (and plenty of boos for the guv). I think Drew Carey already has his playoff party booked. The band playing the old-school Sounders ditty (da dah dah, da dah dah...), the Sounders flags waving in the crowd, and the overall energy in the stadium. Oh, and the soccer horns - my wife hates them - there were plenty of soccer horns to be seen and heard.

The home team scores early, and it was all downhill for NY from there. The officials allowed a lot of contact, showed a few yellows, and took the usual amount of blame and abuse. Cap it off with a shutout, and sportswriters everywhere can bang out their "local boy comes home, pitches clean sheet" stories. Fans and owners go home happy, knowing that no matter what happens from here on out, they witnessed a magic night that cannot be taken away.

First of all, I would not have been there unless my friend Phil comes through and scores us free tickets to the match. Phil is a great guy - fellow footie nut, goalie, former co-worker at various shared stops including Nintendo, just to name a few redeeming qualities - and even though he works for the WSU athletic department (boo, hiss), it is because of his connections there that my Husky ass (as opposed to husky ass...walked into that one) was in my seat tonight. So I must swallow my purple & gold pride and salute the crimson & grey - go Cougs!

And my wife gets lots of hugs and kisses too - she could have gone to the game, but when our childcare plans went south, she took charge and came home early so I could go - who loves ya, baby?

The days leading up to the game were spent emailing and talking with Phil, trying to iron out the logistics. After my last gather-kid-at-bus stop-run, I dash off to the Park & Ride to catch a bus. Get to the P&R with five minutes to spare, and then spend the next hour listening to my iPod and texting my wife and Phil. One of the messages I get from Phil is a pic of Drew Carey (Sounders minority owner) as they march from a gathering point near the stadium and parade to the game. Phil, as usual, has crackerjack timing and happens upon the mob just as they are heading out.

We meet up at the field in front of a giant inflatable football (you know, soccer ball) and head in. There are smiles everywhere, high fives, whooping, hollering, and just a kind of noise that I've always associated with soccer. It's so fucking cool!

And the seats? Club level, Aisle 232, Row Q, Seat 5. I've had worse (like the seat behind a steel support beam at Fenway Park), but for this game, I'd sit on crushed glass. Awesome seats. A bit shy of midfield, behind the benches, looking down on Kasey Keller going through his pre-game warmup routine.

After a Freddie Ljungberg sighting (looking dapper in a tailored suit and acknowledging the masses), and the thankfully brief pre-game fluff (including flags from each United Nations member, and a bunch of young ladies in Sounders colors who move a lot like Seahawks cheerleaders), it is finally time to kick this thing off!

Fredy Montero scored less than 12 minutes in, so right away it set the crowd abuzz and erased any possibility that Seattle would suffer as did Toronto FC, who took something like nine games to score their first goal when they joined MLS. After each goal, everyone was high-fiving, screaming, and holding up their scarves. A young guy next to me even gave a gentle high-five to an infant in from of him - awwwwww.

So from start to finish, it was just an exciting and entertaining match. Kasey didn't have much to do, but when he did, it counted. One point-blank reaction save, and one to send a screamer over the crossbar was about the extent of his night. After the game, people were laughing, smiling, singing, and talking to everyone like we all knew each other. Well, in a way, we do - we're all soccer fans.

I hope this level of enthusiasm continues for the duration. 22,000 season ticket holders is a great start, even better than hoped for by the suits I'm sure. And it's a far cry from the A-League and USL days of the post-NASL (boy, I'm just full of it tonight) Sounders, who played in front of crowds of several hundred to a thousand or two fans for the most part in venues much less shiny and happy than Qwest Field.

And speaking of the Sounders of years past, we now know that Vancouver has been awarded an MLS franchise, and it looks like Portland may land one as well. That means an instant three-way West Coast rivalry with more history than any other MLS club can boast about in my opinion. The Whitecaps and Timbers (hopefully they keep their old names in some form as well) and Sounders just don't really like each other. And good rivalries can often generate great games, so let's hope that is the case.

The night ended with a burger at Red Robin (oh my god, the smell of garlic fries at the game was killing me!) and hanging out with Phil. I really can't think of a better night, unless it involves a bus full of Hawaiian Tropic swimsuit models looking for a couple of oil boys (except in this movie Phil and I get on the bus, but are hunted down and dragged from the bus by our chainsaw-toting wives). Let's call it Dumb & Dumber III: Tom & Phil's Best Day Evar!

Ole, ole ole ole...

Where did all my heroes go?

NHL heroes, that is to say. I read about Martin Brodeur winning his 552nd game on Tuesday (which makes him the all-time leader in Wins), which is really cool. Plus, he's only four shutouts away from taking the lead in that category as well. Way to go, Marty!

I first played ice hockey back in 1975 in the Eastside Hockey Association. My Squirt House team was sponsored by John L. Scott. I used a CCM stick and Cooper gloves. If I ever get a new scanner, I'll post my team and individual photos. I had the face of a cherub, and the heart of a killer. You can laugh if you want, but I will cling to my fantasies regardless.

My favorite book at the time was a big yellow tome titled Pro Hockey Heroes of Today by Bill Libby. All the greats of the late 60s and early 70s are in this: Orr, Cheevers, Hull, Esposito, Mahovlich...if it wasn't buried in the closet with my stash of "must keep forever" books, I'd list them all right now.

Hockey didn't last long, though. Too expensive and too time-consuming for our family. Gave T-Ball a whirl, and then ended up playing soccer...but that's another entry for another day.

Fast-forward to the early 90s. I was working at Nintendo, and my friend Blaine suckered me into his Fantasy Hockey league. My long-dormant romance with the NHL was back on the front burner! I rediscovered the game, and have not stopped the affair since. Thank goodness for CBC and Hockey Night in Canada, because I miss NHL2Night on ESPN2 with John Buccigross. JB alone is worth an individual entry (note to self...).

So many players were in their prime, or just coming of age back then: The Legion of Doom (Lindros/Leclair/Renberg), Fedorov, Bure, Jagr, Hasek, Potvin (Felix the Cat)...way too many to list at the moment. But even the grinders and role-players were important - Dave Gagner, hell yeah! Heady days, indeed.

Then a funny thing happened...we had kids, and suddenly I didn't watch a lot of hockey any more. I still had games on, but never watched them start to finish. The sports section in the Seattle Times kept me up on standings, and those crazy guys at ESPN/ESPN2 and ESPN.com kept me up on the players and everything else.

Back to present day: Now, all I see and hear about are guys like Crosby, Ovechkin, Kane & Toews (there is hope once again for the Blackhawks), the brothers Staal, and a new breed of young netminders. But where are MY guys, MY heroes, MY grinders and unsung PP killers? Here's a rundown on a few random names:

Paul Kariya (Cha-cha-cha): now an old man at 34 and with St. Louis, his 4th team. When he's healthy, he's good for just under a point per game and still an asset on the PP.

Sergei Fedorov: even older than Kariya at 39, plays for Washington, and is also on his 4th team. His offensive output is greatly diminished, but he's in his 17th year, so he's unlikely to score 120 points again (93-94, with Detroit).

Pavel Bure: The Russian Rocket had back-to-back 60 goal/100+ point seasons in 92-93 and 93-94. The man could skate and score. His career ended in 2003, cut short by injuries I think.

Eric Lindros: The Big E played hard, and got hit hard. Too many times to the head, as he retired in 2007 after 13 years and 4 teams (I sense a pattern here). #88 was one of the new breed of big, strong players who could score often AND hit like a train.

Dominik Hasek: He's Gumby, dammit! The Dominator is retired (4 teams - I'm not making this stuff up!) and was as talented as he was quirky.

Chris Chelios: Are you freaking kidding me? 24 years and counting. This man is the T-101 of the NHL - relentless and seemingly unstoppable.

Dave Gagner: One of my favorite grinders. 719 points in 946 games. And now his son plays!

Hopefully I'll be able to do this again one day, and wax nostalgic about Sid the Kid and Sam Gagner. It's been fun.