Portland Timbers 3-1 Minnesota United FC: Weird, Good and Glorious

My people call it Sebastian Blanco.

Does anyone else think that Portland Timbers fans just witnessed something parts weird, good and glorious? To take the adjectives in turn:

Weird: Did anyone else see as much walking as I did, and from both teams? That note speaks to the second half - specifically, after Sebastian Blanco slipped in his first, deciding dagger - and also covers the time when I thought Minnesota United FC would push the game, if for no better reason than they had to. Related thereto, how many Timbers counters, 1) started about 20 yards from their own goal, and 2) started with Dairon Asprilla either winning the ball or getting it at that place, looking at a wide-open field ahead of him and starting up with a look that said, “this shit again?”

Good: Because, before Blanco scored the dagger described above and the, no, please, after you, insurance goal that Minnesota gifted him, the possibility that he wouldn’t continue, never mind finish the game, looked like a real possibility. I mean, how many of you fretted to sweating about the Timbers’ post-season chances in any shape when you saw Blanco on the ground rubbing his back/ass?

Glorious: Because the Timbers overcame an early deficit against a team who has always given them trouble, pushed through a heavy dose of chippy shit (that was six cards by Minnesota, and one of them should have been red and had damn well better earn a date at Studio 54 (aka, DisCo should review that and fine or otherwise punish Franco Fragapane for that straight-up shitty lunge at Diego Chara)), and had the comfort of seeing Steve Clark cover every piece of, admittedly, weak shit that Minnesota managed to fire on goal.

I won’t lie: I had ample and frequent questions about the choices and posture of the Timbers, and on both sides of the ball, but they still ended the night 3-1 winners over perhaps their fiercest bad match-up in MLS, and looked oddly comfortable once they got back in it. Up next, the Colorado Rapids and 4,000+ more feet in elevation. First, however, let’s drink it in, shall we?

First question, how the hell did this happen?

Minnesota United FC 7-1 FC Cincinnati: Knocked on Their Heels, Then Their Asses

Moving on to Ulloa, I'm not sold...

When it comes to choosing between the defining moments of FC Cincinnati’s disastrous, season-worst performance in a season presently collecting them like a wildly indiscriminate philatelist, I have a wide selection from which to choose. Was it when Justin Hoyte slammed the ground in frustration after Emmanuel Ledesma’s “defending” on Cincinnati’s right let Minnesota United FC’s Chase Gasper run into a pasture with time to write a novel about what he would do next? Was it Frankie Amaya standing six feet away from…honestly, does it matter? Anyway, Amaya stood, calling/gesturing for the ball and with no apparent sense of what he’d do with it, he just wanted the ball. Or was it that one time when, with Minnesota ceding ground and FC Cincy plainly bereft of ideas and/or willingness to move, that (probably) Ledesma dished the ball sideways for Victor Ulloa to strike hopelessly toward goal from (at least) 25 yards out?

Describing everything that went wrong in this game would take as long as picking one card from a 52-card deck that someone fanned in front of you and discussing each card at length after flipping it over. Hell, even the one clear bright spot Cincinnati can claim from the afternoon – Ledesma’s goal – probably shouldn’t have gone in. The fact that the “Amaya Moment” described above happened immediately before that goal just underlines how unlikely that goal really was.

By my personal account, Cincinnati enjoyed a decent stretch of soccer, one that lasted from around the 30th minute of their home loss to the Los Angeles Galaxy through the first 20 minutes of this game. They passed the ball fairly well over that period and several players seemed to have some idea as to how to make things happen on the field. Hell, there was even a moment tonight when Rashawn Dally looked like he had some ideas. That was his last one, sadly, and Cincinnati ceded the game onepainfulfuck up at a time until it ended in a crushing [rubbing my eyes] 1-7 loss for FC Cincinnati.

There is literally nothing to analyze about this game (and yet...). Anything Minnesota did right must necessarily be measured against Cincinnati’s sheer, gutted awfulness. Cincy simply didn’t have players with the quality of, to name some examples, Ike Opara, Osvaldo Alonso, or Darwin Quintero. They might make up the first and last with the return of Kendall Waston and (bigger maybe) Roland Lamah, but nothing I’ve seen makes a plausible case that FC Cincy is the equal of Minnesota – a middling Western Conference team at best, btw – even with all present and accounted for. Worse, the game swallowed up Amaya, the one young player on Cincinnati’s roster with any kind of upside. Without dipping too deeply into naked, “what-about-the-children” panic, how will a season or two of effective helplessness shape the kid’s self-belief?

Portland Timbers 3-2 Minnesota United FC: It Wasn't Dealt With Well

The Alvas Powell Award.

Sweet Jesus, where do I begin?

I expected the Portland Timbers to score, but without expecting Minnesota United FC to even sort of keep up if they did. I expected something tidier, boring even, two teams coursing back in forth as if running with plastic bags over their cleats, and two, maybe three goals going in - and per the distributional assumptions above (that is Portland would win by 2-0, 2-1, maybe even 3-0). By playing for their jobs (or…maybe even for the badge), Minnesota turned those assumptions on their head. The extent that Portland allowed them to do it is the underlying subject of this post, the question waiting for an answer. Whatever I expected tonight, it wasn’t that.

The Bizarro-World game that played under this one earns a mention too. Both teams scored goals that the referee (who? dunno. I’ll look it up tomorrow; I’m on a roll…or just starting one) called back for offside. I think the goal the Timbers scored should have counted, but I think the “goal” Minnesota scored (that is the one legitimately offside) established the center of this game as much as anything. Minnesota pulled Portland apart on that move; it was only the offside flag that saved the Timbers an earlier comeback than the one that ultimately arrived.

Portland’s offside goal, to their credit, followed from the kind of hunger you want to see in your local soccer club, players barreling forward to panic defenders, etc. The way that bobbled off Diego Valeri’s shin just so…look, under the rules of general physics, a ball doesn’t bounce with such perfect weight off someone else’s anything, which makes me see Valeri’s feed to Fanendo Adi as another piece of luck to bounce Portland’s way. Look, I saw the deflection on Alvas Powell’s cross to set up the Timbers’ second by Diego Valeri, and that lagged matched the timing of Valeri’s run. When I wrote last week about things just kind of working at home, that's totally what I'm talking about. General physics really do seem to bend in front of the home crowd, as if some omni-scientific placed magnets in the right places to make the ball move just so.

Hold on. I'm digressing from the anxiety I feel after this game. Have I mentioned that, or only hinted at it?

All in all, 4-2 final score would have wronged neither party; the same goes for a 4-3, a 3-3, or the slim, scrambling 3-2 win Portland managed in the end. By the same token, a 2-3 loss, or even a 2-2 draw would have written a reasonable script for what happened at Providence Park tonight. Not that I was there. I had offers, but I also had a schedule, but why am I bugging you with my problems? OK, while I’m here, I sometimes pass on going to games in person so I can better cut out the din (e.g., I’m an incorrigible people watcher, so, SO easily distracted). I can’t describe the amount of conversation that carried on over this game tonight; I can only tell you it was fine, welcome, even. Still, I probably missed some shit. I try to keep things real in this joint…