Filed under: Supporter Culture, US Soccer | Tags: Jewish, Supporters, t-shirt, USMNT
A while back, I met a few fellow Tribe members at a pre-game meet up, and thus began a string of running jokes referenced with the hashtag #JewCrew. We joked about our tiny group one day getting to minyan at a game (10 adult Jewish fans), about tailgate kashrut, the merits of MoT players past and present. Fine times were had by all.
Then one day, Matt Dziomba overheard one such conversation on a Facebook group, and in no time, had come up with the logo you see here. It’s a brilliant little take off on the Israel Football Association logo. The logo was a hit on Twitter, and the first #JewCrew t-shirt was born.
If you want one, you need to fill out this order form and send your money by Monday, 8/19. Choose all cotton or tri-blend (similar to American Apparel) and your size and it’ll be on the way before Columbus!
Big time thanks to Matt for taking this to the next level!
I knew that USMNT vs Germany would be uber-emotional for me, just based on it being my 20th anniversary as a supporter, and a rematch of my first cap, but as my plans for the weekend started to fall into place, it became almost comical. First, my college roommate from Carnegie Mellon offered me a place to stay and said she’d come to the game with me. Then, I posted to Facebook that I’d be in town, and did any of my DC area friends want to join me at the game? Matt Erickson, owner of 76 Words, and the guy that took me to his prom, asked me to grab him three tickets. So now I’m going to the most meaningful game of my life, with my former college roommate and prom date. I could picture myself at the field, with Alexi Lalas narrating, “Tanya Keith, this is your life!!”
It turns out, that in the very small world of DC business, Scott, my South Africa husband (or rather the guy that our safari staff thought was my husband, urging me to keep him from getting killed by telling him not to go running in the safari park), and ’89 prom date not only know each other, but live less than 2 blocks from each other. While this was very convenient, since Kaela was staying with Scott, it was the first of many strange coincidences of the weekend.
Matt and I headed to the stadium just after 8 AM to hang banners and set up the stadium flag, which took longer than usual, but still got us out to the tailgate shortly before the rest of the crew. Our group set up by the river, which was so pretty, and seemed about 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the parking lot. Somehow, magically, we did not lose any soccer balls in our kick around that was dangerously close to the river bank. As people started showing up, it became clear that there were more than a dozen one degree of separation relationships between Matt and I. In the Venn diagram of soccer fans and DC insiders, there’s heavy, if not total, overlap. In fact, Matt had offered one of his two extra tickets to a guy from our hometown who graduated a few years ahead of us. His friend had declined the tickets, since he already had tickets, but invited Matt to his tailgate….which turned out to be the same tailgate I’d invited him to attend.
We ate, drank, face-painted, and talked, occasionally kicking a ball around. We did one pass through the lot to go visit our friends from New York, and to see my friends from AO RVA. But soon it was time to go into the stadium. When the supporter’s section is GA (general admission), I like to go in 90 minutes before kickoff, but with assigned seats, I had no issue with rolling in barely in time for anthems. It was fun, having the Midwest Mama flag farther back in the section than usual, since people were excited to be a part of the flag management. One guy had on an Ampel Man shirt, winning the subtle reference to German culture. Ampel Man is a graphic design icon from East Berlin, a red walking man that adorned traffic lights, telling you when to walk or stop, don’t cross. How many layers of happiness could I squeeze into one day?
The game kicked off, and the joy of the day was just getting started. In the 14th minute, Jozy Altidore scored on a fantastic shot from in the box. Gleeful giddiness poured out of me. I couldn’t remember ever leading Germany in a match, but before I could collect myself and take a photo of the score board, right in front of me, I saw something I could not believe. A German central defender had the ball at the 18, but was under pressure, and passed the ball to his wing, who was also under pressure, and made a quick back pass to the German keeper, ter Stegen. Please read this as it is in my head, in the voice on Top Gun, when Maverick gets scolded to “never, never leave your wing man,” YOU NEVER, NEVER BACK PASS ON FRAME! Ter Stegen was immediately under intense pressure from three US attackers, and in a startled moment of indecision, he hesitates, and the ball rolls, impossibly slowly, into the German net. Now we were up 2-0, dos a cero!! It’s not just for Mexico anymore!
After a German goal was called back for being offside, we headed into halftime, up by the most dangerous lead in soccer. I hoped we wouldn’t get over confident and blow the lead, which is risky in how comfortable it seems, but isn’t. When Germany came out and scored once, I thought we were in trouble, but a pair of clinical, beautiful rifle shots from Clint Dempsey put the score at 4-1. What strange new world is this?
But we weren’t done yet. Germany made a late game sub, and with brutal quickness, the score was 4-3, and I was praying that we could hold it through the last seven minutes. It had already occurred to me that this game was almost a perfect flip of the scoring summary from US vs Germany twenty years prior, and now, I wanted my day to come complete full circle. As the players moved from one end of the field and back, I prayed alternately that neither would score, and leave my perfect 4-3 as is. I’d found myself begging the US NOT to score for the first time in my life, then finding them in the German attacking end begging forgiveness, hoping that by thought alone, I hadn’t cost the win by not wanting to run up the score. It was such a long seven minutes. Then…there was that blissful pause, followed by the final whistle and referee signaling the end of the game. They’d done it. US Soccer had made the perfect ending to the perfect weekend, perfect game.
Filed under: International Soccer, Supporter Culture, US Soccer | Tags: Klinsman, US Soccer, USMNT
I have a rule about not spending money traveling to friendlies during World Cup Qualifying. You have to prioritize somewhere along the line, and I would much rather go to qualifiers, than burn the budget on fun but meaningless games.
But when US Soccer announced that the Centennial Match would be US vs Germany at RFK Stadium in Washington DC, I knew I had to go. I had promised myself that whenever the US next played Germany after Jürgen Klinsmann was hired, I would go, even if the match was played in Germany, and I justified that this expense in the middle of qualifying was probably not as bad as flying to Germany for this game, so I called my DC friends and started searching for a place to stay. That the Centennial coincided with my 20th anniversary as a US Soccer supporter was too good to be true.
My first cap ever was USMNT vs Germany in the US Cup, on June 13, 1993, which I attended as a fan of German soccer, a habit I’d picked up living in Germany for Summer 1989. The ‘93 game was a pivotal moment in my career as an American soccer fan. My hero, Klinsmann scored in the 14th minute, the German machine performing as planned. But then, here was Tom Dooley, putting one in about 10 minutes later for the Americans. The AMERICANS? “They” scored on Germany? Impossible. Soon enough, my Germans had run it up to 4-1, and we were back on plan. But then there were those Americans again…Ernie Stewart scoring in the 72nd minute, and Dooley getting the brace several minutes later. What the hell was going on? I hadn’t even realized that Americans knew how to play legitimate soccer, let alone hold Germany to “just” a 4-3 loss. I was blown away. I walked out, took my Germany hat off, bought a shirt commemorating the game, and that day, became a supporter for US Soccer.
Flash forward 20 years, and I made it to DC. My one goal for coming to DC was to finally meet Klinsmann. My Facebook wall has been littered with friends who met him at the airport, or at practices I didn’t get to town soon enough to attend, or the Centennial Celebration in New York City, and frankly, I was more than a little jealous. After all, I’d been a fan for DECADES, and here were people who had lukewarm trust in Klinsy with photos with him plastered all over Facebook, just mocking me. I was one more Facebook photo away from a full on toddler-force tantrum….something had to be done.
First stop was the Nike Store event in Georgetown, a mob scene of kids who were too big to shove out of the way unnoticed. I tried not to think about the multiplier of the average age to my age, and I got positioned near the front…on the side that ended up the far side of Klinsmann and Tim Howard (my son’s current obsession) and near side to Clint Dempsey and Michael Bradley. I know, you’re thinking “there’s really not a losing position there.” And you’re right. Every single person on stage was amazing (thanks Nike/US Soccer), but given my goals as a mama and fan girl, I should have been on the opposite side. Taylor Twellman emceed a Q&A, that I half heard over the blood rushing past my eardrums, and then the autograph frenzy began. Nothing organized, with guys signing civilized behind a table, but a mosh pit of youth soccer players and I jockeying for position. I ended up getting Bradley’s and Howard’s autograph for both my kids (go Mom!) but I’m pretty sure Klinsmann vaporized soon after the autographs started. I asked one of my US Soccer contacts if Klinsmann was still in the building, and after checking, he said no, but if I found him at the Public Practice, he would try to help me get my Klinsmann photo.
The next day, I went down to RFK to watch the German practice at 11 AM. I didn’t get super involved, since I can only recognize a few of their players, but had a nice morning chatting with the German ex-pats who were there. I managed to score Louis Podolski’s autograph, but the highlight came as the practice was breaking up, and I noticed Alexi Lalas, walking around with a hard-to-miss purple umbrella to guard against the noon-time sun. I was wearing my 20 year old t-shirt from US vs Germany, having a moment by myself, thinking about my life following US Soccer for the past 20 years, there’s Lalas, one of the players that played for the US in the 1993 game. I called hello to him, and he said hi back, and then said “That’s a shirt from way back.” Thrilled that he’d recognized it (it does show the ’93 USMNT kit), I said, “Yeah, I had to dig way back in the closet for it, this was my first cap.”
Then, Lalas blew my mind. He said, “Tom Dooley had a heck of a game that day, right?”
Are you kidding me? How many games has he played for the US (it’s 96, I looked it up) and how many has he announced, let alone watched, and he had the details from a particular game from 20 years ago? The man knows his soccer, and he signed the US side of my shirt. Take that, Lalas haters.
The day continued to get more and more awesome. Between practices, we were hanging out at the Supporters Club sign in, which was next to the press area. While we waited for gates to open, we were greeted by former Nats goalkeeper Kasey Keller, and ESPN broadcaster Ian Darke. Keller was quiet, but stopped for photos and autographs, and Mr. Darke stayed and chatted with us for a while, talking about just hanging out like a regular guy chatting up soccer. He’s very thoughtful and insightful, and a pleasure to talk soccer with, so I was almost sad when they said it was time to head into the stadium.
We had a relaxed hour, joking with a few of my soccer buddies about various travel (mis)adventure, and about the players putting on a practice show for us. Once the field work was over, the players were extraordinary, taking lots of time to sign autographs and pose for photos. I met more players than I can fathom, but no Klinsmann. After the session, security started to clear us out, and I began to panic. I had had such a perfect day, only to fail in my ultimate mission? Intolerable. Desperately, I searched the crowd for my US Soccer contact, and shouted to him across the security area. He mouthed “Did you meet him?” I shook my head no. He held up one finger to wait, and took off. I drug my feet as much as possible, and when we were cleared to the stadium seats and asked to leave, I said “I was told to wait here…” and was just about to justify my staying in a last ditch attempt to avoid getting bodily thrown from the stadium, when my contact popped up from the player tunnel and asked security if he could take me with him. They agreed, and I went through, vindicated and beyond excited. I half ran, chasing my contact into the locker room level of RFK. We turned into a hallway, where I recognized several members of the soccer media on one side of a fence. I was told to stand on the other side, just past them. I stood and waited, watching a guy from MLS.com wrapping up an interview. Soon, more players began to funnel down the hallway, some stopping to answer questions, a few pausing to give me a nod. I asked Beasley for a photo, since he is my husband’s favorite, but otherwise, I tried to be cool and just wait. When Dempsey walked by, I must have had a particularly obvious “she’s not press” look on my face, in awe that he was right there in front of me, all by myself. He got a look of recognition on his face, and then, silently walked up, shook my hand, and kept walking, as I stood dumbfounded, managing to squeak out “Wow, thanks.”
By the time I regained my senses, Klinsmann was right in from of me, startling me back to reality. I called out in German, asking “Can I have your…” Dammit. What’s the word for autograph? I came up with “writing” but he was already walking over, thank goodness, able to translate through the IQ lowering effects of fangirl overload. I told him how I’d been a German soccer fan, and came to see him play 20 years ago, how I remembered the goal, and that when the US came back to almost equalize, I became a US Soccer fan, culminating with “I’m a US Soccer fan because of you, and I just wanted to say thanks, and can I get a photo with you?” And that’s how I ended up with my coveted Klinsmann photo, complete with him smiling almost as wide as I am.
My sincerest thanks to my friends at US Soccer who made this photo possible. Following this team has been some of my greatest adventures of the last 20 years.
Filed under: International Soccer, Supporter Culture | Tags: Azteca, US Soccer, USMNT

Photo credit: Tony Hernandez Photography (https://www.facebook.com/TonyHernandezPhotography)
Here’s the thing: going to Azteca is scary. Mostly because of all the horror stories that people tell you about going to Azteca. “You’re going to get bags of piss thrown on you!” “They throw things at you!” “You’re going to get spit thrown at you!” And on and on and on. I know…I went, Easter Sunday of 2005, and people told me I was insane, that I was going to orphan my baby girl, blah blah blah.
I’m not saying it wasn’t terrifying, walking through rows of riot police, that we didn’t get stuff thrown at us, because my sunglasses were broken when someone threw a coin from the upper deck (that’s right…I went to Azteca back when they sat us in the lower deck! Terminal velocity, baby.)
So I’m really annoyed with this guy, who told Yahoo Sports that he was hit by a flying bottle thrown by a Mexican fan. Because one of my soccer travel buddies, Jimmie Cates, of AO Detroit, saw this guy slip and fall on a seat and bash his head in the fall. So he could have said, “Mexicans threw a bunch of beer, and it made the seat wet, and I slipped and fell.” But that’s not nearly as sexy as being the face of “the abuse American fans suffer (dramatic sigh!) at Azteca,” now is it? By misrepresenting the terrors of Mexico City, you keep others from traveling to support our Yanks, and that pisses me off. A whole big bunch.
So I’m calling you out, bashed in head dude. Your 15 minutes of fame are over. It’s bad enough Mexico can’t win at home, they shouldn’t be lied about, especially when the truth of Azteca is plenty intimidating to most soccer fans. Come clean, and maybe next time, don’t drink so much at altitude.
Filed under: International Soccer, Supporter Culture, US Soccer | Tags: Azteca, US Soccer, USMNT
Got the kids to bed, and trying to stay sane waiting for this game. Thoughts:
All the pressure’s on Mexico. No wins yet, they need a break.
Yes, we’ve got some injury issues, but I look at that as second string’s got something to prove.
Thinking about the mental games coming into this match, I’ll take our position. We won in our last meeting there. Our qualifying is going better. The weather is in our favor (again).
And while I generally love everything Alexi Lalas says, you wouldn’t be talking about him if he said the US would win 2-0. Man’s got a job to do, but it won’t stop us from bringing home three points!
Let’s go, boys! Take their COLORS!!
Filed under: Family Fun, International Soccer, Supporter Culture, US Soccer | Tags: Tifo, US Flag, US Soccer, USMNT
It left the stadium soaked and frozen, crusted with ice, but today, the Midwest Mama stadium flag was single-handedly rolled by Doug and is on it’s way home to AO Des Moines. Even I am surprised it fit back in the bag after being so soaked!
Filed under: Family Fun, US Soccer | Tags: boyfriend, flow chart, flowchart, US Soccer, USMNT, Valentines, Weltmeisterschaft
I’m a little disappointed no one pointed this out to me before Valentines Day, since it’s perfect for my geeky USMNT loving little world. Mighty Mighty US made this flow chart for finding your USMNT boyfriend (here’s there original post) which I find kinda awesome, with one exception. While I have to agree that the world is split into German speakers and non-German speakers, I must protest that there’s no option for Klinsmann for us German speakers. I think it’s the only way the flow chart will work for me. Maybe with a Boys/Men split before Bad Boys? I don’t know…but I just think he’s meant to be on here.
Thanks for the (belated) Valentines Day fun, Mighty Mighty US!