So I'm trying to accept my status as a plain vanilla Chicago Fire fan.  Sometimes at Toyota Park I avoid looking over to my right.  Why?  Because those guys make me feel guilty.  That's where the real supporters sit--er, stand.  Behind the goal at the Harlem Avenue end of our lovely, almost-new ground is where you'll find Section 8 Chicago.  (See what I mean?  They're in Wikipedia)!  During the entire game, they stand, sing, chant, and bang drums.  They set off flares and smoke bombs.  There are banners big enough to cover the whole section.  And flags...huge gorgeous flags so big I don't know how one person can wave them.

The group got its name from the section it once occupied in the pre-renovated Soldier Field.  It seems to be an umbrella organization that includes several affiliates, such as Barn Burners 1871, the Arsonists, Fire Ultras '98, and Ultras Red-Side.  There are smaller groups including one called The Shandy Sisters whose irreverence is especially intriguing. 

I don't want to copy the membership requirements for Section 8 and the Ultras Red-Side, both of which are easily found on their websites.  Here's the gist:  you've gotta be committed, baby.  You must attend at least half of the home games, have no other club affiliation, and be possessed of a sincere desire to put heart & soul into supporting the Fire.  The people who sign up aren't just ticking "accept" after scrolling through these terms and conditions.  They mean every single word.    

Other MLS teams have supporter groups, some of whom seem to be very dedicated.  The Torontans who showed up in Chicago this summer certainly had an ultra look to them.  I haven't been to any MLS games outside Chicago, but I'd have to see it with my own eyes to believe that any other supporters can outdo Section 8.  Toronto may be the exception to this claim.  From what I've seen on TV, its entire stadium is filled with ultra-esque types. 

So why do Section 8 supporters give me a raging inferiority complex?  I'm good Fire fan, I am.  I've been going to matches since 1998.  I've listened to games in the car, in Spanish, and I don't speak Spanish.  (I do, however, understand "gooooooal").  I watch the games on TV whenever possible and most years I'm a half-season ticket holder.  I've got Fire scarves and a t-shirt.*  But, but, but...I don't want to sit behind the goal.  I'm afraid that I'll get scolded if I forget myself and sit down for a few minutes.  And honestly, have you heard me sing?  It would be disrespectful to the Fire--indeed, to all of Major League Soccer--if I sang in Toyota Park. 

So I guess that Section 8 isn't the place for me.  I applaud its style, and especially envy the pre-match tailgating.  I'll just have to admire its citizens from afar, and take pride in the way that they represent Chicago.

*Gripe alert!  I would wear my Fire t-shirt much more often if only the market would respond to the needs of women and make feminine, fitted shirts instead of those boxy man-shirts!  Geez, haven't they watched Trinny & Susannah on What Not to Wear?

What do toilet paper and club soccer have in common?  According to Forbes magazine, 2007 marks the 150th anniversary for both.  Of course, variations of the game itself have been around for centuries (just like tp substitutes, one hopes).  But an important step on the long, fitful path toward organized competition was taken on October 24, 1857 with the founding of Sheffield Football Club.  Unlike some other inventions from 1857--elevators and transatlantic telegraph cable--competitive club soccer didn't immediately become a big-time commercial enterprise.  At first, Sheffield had no one to play against, forcing the club to stage games between members--bachelors vs. married men, for example.  And it would be nearly three decades later before open professionalism was given the stamp of approval by the FA.  It's hard to believe that just 150 years ago today's glamour game was a chaotic mess of quasi-professionals whose play was governed by a motley patchwork of rules. 

Forbes is a business publication, so the article's author duly notes how soccer's worldwide sporting dominance has helped to enrich shareholders of Nike, Adidas, and Rupert Murdoch's NewsCorp.  Real Madrid and Manchester United are global brands and ownership of top English clubs is the province of the super-wealthy.  Apparently this is news to some Forbes readers. 

As I read about the beautiful game's humble origins, I began to think about what life was like in 19th century England.  What did people do for fun?  Was soccer the only game in town?  Just how did it become so popular?

With the help of Wikipedia and a library book called Sports and Games of the 18th and 19th Centuries by Robert Crego (Greenwood Press, 2003), I learned a bit more about Victorian sporting life.  Cricket was already the most established team sport.  It had a big head start on soccer in terms of standardized rules, organization, and popularity.  Crego states that it was "flourishing" a full one hundred years before the founding of Sheffield FC. 

And then there's rugby football.  It had begun to evolve separately from the kicking game by the early 1800's.  To my 21st century eyes, rugby seems like anything but an upper-class pastime, but that's exactly what it was.  The working class did take to the oval ball game as the century wore on.  In fact, Crego describes how the 1876 Yorkshire Cup Challenge was won by a team of working blokes, much to the dismay of those who considered such men their inferiors. The Rugby Football Union was formed in 1870, just eight years after the London Football Association.  The Rugby Football League appeared in 1895 to govern the different style of play that was prevalent among the clubs in the north of England.

Golf and tennis were always socially exclusive but boxing and horse racing thrived among all classes.  Writing of boxing, Crego notes, "With Britain at the height of its industrial boom, even the factory hand and the common laborer had money to spend on entertainment."  Professional horse racing took root in the early 18th century.  Races were often part of the entertainment at fairs and festivals, where spectators included both farmers and gentry.  There were other sports whose appeal was mostly limited to public school students, or anyone else whose means allowed it:  cycling, rowing, track and field, cross country running, and even field hockey. 

Get the picture?  Soccer didn't develop in a vacuum.  It was a survivor in a battle that was as rough and tumble as the economic competition that characterized the Industrial Revolution.  Its beauty lay in its simplicity, lack of expense, and accessibility.  Marketing, advertising, and public relations gimmicks weren't part of the formula.  To get an idea of the extent to which soccer permeates the English landscape, have a look at the structure of the English Football League system.  Fanciful names--to Yank ears, at least--like Wycombe Wanderers and Accrington Stanley populate the current League Two table, far below glittering "brands" like Manchester United and Chelsea.  Yet League Two holds a lofty spot in the pyramid, compared to the likes of Moneyfields and Wimborne Town in the Wessex League (Premier Division).

The business of English football couldn't be described as a smashing success until the top teams split off into the Premier League in 1992.  Revenues poured into the new league from the sale of television broadcasting rights, tapping into a huge global demand for its product.  According to Wikipedia, the latest TV rights deal (2007) will bring the League 2.7 billion pounds over three years.  Compare this to the Premier League's first sale of TV rights to Sky back in 1991--191 million pounds over five years--and it's easy to see how the average player's salary rose from 75,000 to 676,000 pounds per year over nearly the same period (latest figures were for the 2003-04 season).  And to think that we Americans have been rather pleased with the 2007 MLS season! 

So all of this means...what, exactly?  That the conditions that produced English football are so vastly different from what brought about MLS that making comparisons is a waste of time.  The complaints of Euro-snobs (like me) about MLS quality are very much beside the point.  The Brits, not to mention the rest of the world, should be better than us.  They've been at it since the game was known as "mob ball" in the Middle Ages. 

It might take several light-years to cross the canyon that separates the English soccer experience from what what's going on in the US and Canada.  At least there are a few oases for those who are trudging across this expanse, namely Fox Soccer Channel, GolTV and Setanta.  Most of the time--unless David Beckham's in town--the local MLS team will welcome weary pilgrims with open arms.  Major League Soccer may not completely quench anyone's thirst.  Yet with stars like Blanco, Dichio, Angel, and Altidore, league expansion, soccer-specific stadiums, and expanded live TV coverage--it's no mirage, either.