Portland Timbers 2-1 San Jose Earthquakes: Dairon = Rocky

Eye of the Tiger. Also, wrong movie.

At some long-forgotten point during my long career of amateur commentating soccer career, I had an over-fondness for boxing metaphors. With that, let’s dip into the ol’ well once more...

Everyone who has seen even one Rocky movie knows one thing: the more often he gets punched in the head/face area, the better he fights. It might have happened in one movie, it might have happened in all of them, but I distinctly remember a sequence (or five) where Rocky barked something like “is that all you got? hit me harder” (think he said that to both Clubber Lang and Drako), and, as Rocky’s corner started to panic (though not Burgess Meredith, he died during Rocky II, I think), Pauly always said, “no, no, he’s getting madder,” or something like that. And that's how Rocky won the Cold War.

Rocky got punched in the head a whole bunch of fucking times tonight – the official stats counted seven times on target – and All That Jazz Ivacic parried them all away, one of them at dead-cert equalizer by the most active/dangerous player in the San Jose Earthquakes’ line-up, Cristian Espinoza (who, honestly, should take a bow; helluva game, sir; also, The Mothership stiffed us on stand-alone clips, but the highlights would be derelict if they didn't have a few of Ivacic's finest). That “hair-of-their-chinny-chin-chin” madness was more feature the bug in the Portland Timbers 2-1 win over San Jose. And, seeing that I begged for a win, I’m not going to scrutinize it overly...despite this being the same San Jose team I semi-officially wrote off (if halfway) in something I posted just this past Friday, and despite a record of failure that goes back to 1980-fucking-2, aka, when I was a bone-thin knee-high instead of the corpulent gentleman I’ve grown into today...

...deep breath...because that’s all I take these days. And, holy shit, where to begin?

As noted early in my game-thread for the match, San Jose came out nearly as hungry as Dairon Asprilla. After an opening 10 minutes where the teams seemed to punch even, San Jose clawed their way to higher ground and, for too much of the first half, tilted the field toward the Timbers goal. My sparse notes for the first half included phrases like, “SJ clearly not intimidated” and “POR D posture a bit low early,” and I feel like both of those held up pretty well. Whatever anyone thought of each of them, a succession of yellow cards to Portland players – Josecarlos Van Rankin (39th minute/deserved); Yimmi Chara (40th minute/richly-deserved) and Claudio Bravo (41; full disclosure, I didn’t see that one, so I’m not judging its validity) – pinpoints the moment of peak out-of-fucking-control for the Timbers. I think San Jose scored off the free-kick Bravo handed them (don’t honestly recall what I was doing), but, again, who set up the goal that bobbled its way to where Benjamin Kikanovic had nothing to do but stab it into an empty goal? Yep, Espinoza. Related, Ivacic deserved better from that bobble...

MLS at 20 (or Thereabouts): Looking Back, Ahead, and Up and Down

He's not sure what he's seeing either.

Going into the June international break, I posted a State-of-the-League behemoth, which amounted to an update of a preview post I put up when Major League Soccer kicked off the 2022 season. On June 10 – i.e., just before the league picked up again after the June break - I followed that up with a pretty damn sloppy post (if structurally spot-on; that was Plan A all along!) that previewed the next five games for all the teams across MLS.

This post will pull notes from those, and look forward to the future with two thoughts in mind: 1) showing what I got and what I missed – which I see as a proxy for the relevant teams actually being what they looked like; and 2) reassessing, oh, everything now that we’ve got 20 games with which to work, my grand pronouncements should stand on a steadier soapbox – and I’ve organized the teams below on that firmer ground. The ranking system should ring a couple bells – e.g., “Contender,” “Playoff-Caliber,” “Margin Walkers,” and “Fodder” – but, again, it’s projection, something that most people should know well enough through everything between weather forecasting more than, oh, three days out. Bring an umbrella and warm clothes, basically, and trust no one and nothing.

Wrapping up the preamble, I thought I’d give quick definitions for each category:

Contenders: Teams that have done consistently well all season.

Playoff Caliber: Teams I can’t see slipping under the playoff line in the next five games…but never say never.

Margin Walkers: Teams I can see falling out of, or climbing into the playoffs over the next five games and for any reason whatsoever.

Fodder: Teams that have done consistently poorly all season, some of whom have been thinking about next season for the past several seasons.

That’s everything. As you’ll see, the “Margin Walker” category is the chunkiest. I explain the calls where I feel like I need to. And…we’re off….

Portland Timbers 1-1 Vancouver Whitecaps: Plan Fucking A, Forever and Always

Portland's attacking tactics, a visual.

I’ll start with two thoughts. First, the fan-base grumpiness about this result, if just in my corner of twitter, is top-notch. Second, I’ve typed some version of “this won’t take long” 400+ times, but I’m pretty damn confident that the sum of what I just watched will help me deliver on that promise.

The Portland Timbers 1-1 home draw against the Vancouver Whitecaps fulfilled every expectation/failure laid out in my preview, if with the lonely exception that Vancouver pressed a bit around the 20th minute of the first half. Otherwise, that now-cursed thing functioned as a script, only absent the inspiration. Vancouver lined up the way I expected them to, they mostly defended as expected, they got a goal off a cross to the back-post (if the opposite of the one I expected; also, the failure was decidedly complex); the Timbers attack, meanwhile, did everything I hoped they wouldn’t, as in they literally checked every goddamn box. And that, ladies and gents, is the alpha, the omega, and the answer to every question except why this game didn’t end 1-0 in Vancouver’s favor.

To stick up for the kids who get a gold star for today, I thought Santiago Moreno, Larrys Mabiala, Aljaz Ivacic, and Claudio Bravo all had decent games – if mainly on the attacking side in Bravo’s case, and the man clearly has a day-job to which he does not always attend. I’m willing to give honorable mention to Dario Zuparic and Diego Chara generally, Cristhian Paredes here and there, and Yimmi Chara early in the game, but, collectively, that was 90-minutes of muscles twitching to pulses of electricity delivered with all the subtlety of a 12-year-old mashing buttons on Mortal Combat. Both teams made chances out of their moments of coherence – and, loathe as I am to say it, though the stats do back it up a bit (see shots on goal), Vancouver managed more than the Timbers – but that game delivered a bounty of bad soccer on all sides of those moments. Felt like watching MLS in the 2000s, and in all the wrong ways.

To his credit, Ivacic cleaned up most of the messes Portland’s defense left him – most critically, his two early saves in the first half – but the Timbers defense had a generally respectable night. For the...how many games have the Timbers played so far? 21? – call it the 11th time this season (this includes every game the Timbers allowed one or fewer goals), Portland’s defense did enough. And so, for the...huh, 13th time this season, I’ll close this very short post with a rant about the Timbers “attack.”

Portland Timbers v Vancouver Whitecaps: Remedies for Constipation?

Contemplating approach play with unseen obstacles

For all the moments of respectability, it is still totally fair to call the Whitecaps Cascadia’s fifth wheel. And yet with Vancouver one thin point behind Portland in the standings, that’ll be cold comfort if the Timbers can’t get ‘er done. Now, the numbers:

Vancouver Whitecaps
Record/Basics: 7-9-4, 25 points; 5-2-3 home, 2-7-1 away; 22 gf, 33 ga, -11 differential
Last 10: WLWWLWTWLT (5-3-2, 2-2-1 on road; in all, a pretty vigorous work-out)
Oppo: v FCD, @ CLT, @ SKC, @ RSL, @ SEA, @ FCD, v NE, v LAFC, v MIN, @ CIN

What We Know About Them
When it comes to Vancouver, I suspect most people know a couple names – e.g., Ryan Gauld, Lucas Cavallini, Maxime Crepeau...who now plays for LAFC – plus some deeper cuts like Cristian Dajome, Russell “Terrier” Teibert and Jake Nerwinski. They’ve freshened the line-up with some familiar names – e.g., Cody Cropper (out for terrifying injury), Tristan Blackmon, Florian Jungwirth – while swinging for some bigger signings like Pedro Vite (who is not, so far, a 90 minute player) and, their flashiest, newest signing, Andres Cubas. They’ve also developed a habit for going on late runs over the past couple seasons and, on their recent record - i.e., 15 points from 30, with six games on the road, and against solid competition (all but two of the last 10 teams they played are over the playoff line, the rest are near it) – one could argue they’re on one again.

Their stats leaders include the usual suspects: Cavallini (6g, 3a), Gauld (3g/3a, who’s still having a bit of an off-season), Dajome (2g/3a, real threat off dribble), and Ryan Raposo (2g/2a).

Notes on Recent Form
They’ve won some big ones lately – e.g., a home win over LAFC and away to Dallas (related, they seem to have Dallas’s number, along with SKC’s) – and, after a disastrous start, many of their positive road results have come in recent weeks. On the video/scouting side, it’s possible I caught them at their worst in all the tape I reviewed: injuries/various absences forced them to make due with a heavily-rotated squad at FC Cincinnati, which led to disjointed play and early defensive breakdowns (and yet they managed), and they fell into a gentle slumber in a 1-3 loss at home to Minnesota after losing some key players at half-time (e.g., Cubas, who looks really good, fwiw, and Godinho) and the visitors turning up the pressure.

FC Cincinnati 2-2 Vancouver Whitecaps: It's Time to Fly, Little Chickadee

I'm going to need you to flap those wings like you mean it.

First, I want to applaud The Bailey for chanting “Cody Cropper” after Vancouver’s goalkeeper went down after a, frankly, terrifying foul. That’s class, no further comment. Now, about that game...

To expand on a phrase I typed throughout 2022, “there are no moral victories.” There comes a time when a team (say, FC Cincinnati) kicks off three seasons on training wheels (this was on a busted-down trike inherited from an eccentric grandparent) and builds a certain amount of expectation. They leave the nest, wings spread, out in the world and...that’s just it: they keep flying or they fall back to the ground.

It’s in that full, little chickadee in the big city sense that I view Cincinnati’s 2-2 home draw against the Vancouver Whitecaps as a bad result. Worse, the goal that pulled the ‘Caps level was a two-fire-alarm fucking disaster; as a (side-piece) fan, I’m angry that Cincy’s last line of defenders didn’t direct more anger at the midfielders and/or Tyler Blackett, all of whom fell so far behind the play and didn’t look all that interest in catching up. That left Toisant Ricketts with at least two wide-the-fuck-open players to pass to inside Cincinnati’s 18 and, in a game where the imperative to “leave it all on the field” was sharp and urgent, they did not. There is no universe in which that is not the worst, defining moment of the game.

On a meat-‘n’-potatoes level, I don’t think Cincinnati deserved to win this game – that’s despite having quality chances to get all three points (they posted a win-worthy number of shots, and with enough on goal.) Debutante Sergio Santos had two good-to-great looks – including one that any eager fan would love to see a new signing put away (e.g., the one shot with his feet) – Obinna Nwobodo had a non-crazy shot from range, Alvaro Barreal forced a good save out of 20-year-old substitute ‘keeper, Ian(?) Boehmer (and that’s on top of attempting an olimpico on every corner), and so on. Cincinnati had chances to put a little padding between them and a Vancouver comeback, They never managed to pull it off leaving Vancouver free to walk through a door they left open, and end of game

 It hardly helped that a fair number of Cincy players had off nights. That happens, obviously, but eve accounting for key absences and injuries (to name the bigs, Luciano Acosta, Junior Moreno, and, circumstantially, Alvas Powell....Ronald Matarrita’s been out long enough that losing him amounts to losing an arm – i.e., that’s just something one adjusts to), Cincinnati didn’t have anything to overcome Vancouver didn’t (Cincy’s broadcast team would not let this go, btw), and it shaped the game in...a way. Nwobodo was loose on the ball in a way that led to too many turnovers, Blackett’s passing out of the back ranged from dubious to bad, John Nelson failed to add much in the attack and Raymon Gaddis...every player makes mistakes, and fatal ones come with defending. Had Gaddis done everything else all right, you can still salute the outing...but he did not. Basically, the combined team put out enough collective “bad” for Cincinnati to drop two points last night and can I get a “goddammit” on that?

Seattle Sounders 0-3 Portland Timbers: Fun! (And Pointless Anxiety!)

First, so, SO good.

Tonight’s challenge is to walk the line between celebrating a good, useful, comedy-rich win and acknowledging that, despite the 3-0 score-line, the Portland Timbers didn’t play a great game. They may not have even played a good one.

Going the other way, I see not just free money in my bank account, but a fall-down fucking hysterical situation where Mike Penso waves off a penalty shout for a trip on Nico Lodeiro that 90% of the world agrees he should give, only to reward the Timbers with an equally obvious call (something like) 40-45 minutes later for a handball just inside the area, and only after video review. Maybe the whole CCL banner stunt felt tacky to Penso too...

Because I’m about to grind a couple personal axes, I want to make a couple things very clear. First, I genuinely enjoyed the win. If nothing else, it’s exciting, i.e., a dramatic pratfall in the middle of Seattle’s presumed stroll to the throne that so many people (including me) expect them to make. Everything down to the start of the game worked toward setting up that narrative; Seattle even had one of their typical flurries around the 17th-19th minutes, one of those periods where they got off two quality shots out of a period of sustained pressure. Related thereto, and more than a little fortunate, Aljaz Ivacic completely missed both shots; he didn’t see Raul Ruidiaz’s shot till it bonked off his head and bravo, Claudio Bravo, for clearing the ball off the line on the other, but ain’t that soccer, sometimes? (Surely, you get all or some of that in here?) Isn’t that why they call it the blues?

For what it’s worth, I don’t think the game only really turned when Seattle’s Jackson Ragen got sent off for a wild-ass foul on Eryk Williamson, like, stupid early in the second half. Sure, Portland scored a go-ahead goal out of three passes and Jaroslaw Niezgoda’s ass at the 24th minute – also, hold this thought, because I’m obsessing – but I didn’t feel the weight of resignation among Seattle's players until after Ragen’s dismissal. As much as Portland’s opener put Seattle on their heels, they played as if someone had set their game-plan on fire and waggled it in front of them (while doing some really uncomfortable, faux-erotic dance) after the Ragen’s second yellow. From that point forward, some vague sense of not knowing what to do next weighed on their every step and every pass.

Basically, as good as the goal felt (very! thanks!), it didn’t take too much to imagine how Seattle would get back into the game at the half-time whistle. Five minutes after that red card, I straight up knew they had too much doubt in their heads to get anything better than the draw. Part of me thinks Brian Schmetzer chased his charges onto the field after burning the thought “put your stamp on the game” into their heads. When Ragen did, the wheels spun off.

FC Cincinnati 1-1 Red Bull New York: When Constellations Are Just Random, Useless Dots

Having the technology doesn't make using it right...

This won’t take long. I’m trying to get two of these things in tonight...

If I had to choose one way to explain FC Cincinnati’s 1-1 home draw to Red Bull New York, I’d go with the passing accuracy and total passes numbers, plus a pair of passing maps that look like constellations. The Red Bulls do best when they can force the opposition to play their game – particularly the part about forever pushing the ball forward, and with all the frustrated constipation of trying to make a turducken out of a set of badly-matched birds. Cincinnati had all of....I’m calling it about 25 minutes’ worth of impetus in that game in total; the rest of it was just 10 mammals reacting to stimuli. Solid game by Roman Celentano, by the way....

To lay my cards on the table, I’m a little pissy about this draw and mostly because I’m fairly convinced it didn’t have to be this way.

J. R. R. Tolkein getting the penalty call in the 28th-minute didn’t hurt, obviously, and, I don’t care how lonely this hill is, I would never have called that as a penalty. Raymon Gaddis clearly played the ball, one that hung in the air like a slow-pitched softball and, if he kicked J. R. R. in mid-flight, I mean, haven’t we all wanted to do that, if only for the terrible dialogue and dwarf songs alone?

Call that a long, digressive way of saying, I wouldn’t have called that penalty, but that doesn’t erase the fact it 1) wasn’t crazy and 2) was called, and that’s how the Red Bulls turned a whole lot of mostly nothing into one more point on the road. Celentano made all of two saves tonight (and came close on the PK), one of them that asked no more of him than catching a placement shot at head level from range, and that gives a good measure of New Jersey’s “dominance” tonight, and the limits of their present approach to the game. They succeeded in stifling everything Cincy thought to do, as soon as they tried it – boiling over Luciano Acosta’s frustration in the process – but the return they got was almost entirely negative. RBNY only managed one good shot on goal that stuck with me (Morgan, from range, circa the 63rd), but the rest topped out at their trademark frenetic aimlessness. They’re the soccer equivalent of someone who can win the fight for the knife in a street fight, but don’t know what to do with it from there.

Now, to pick up the mail from the complaints department...