Wait ‘Til We Get to the Hills

In the year of our lord One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eighty, on the day of March 24th at the old Santa Clara Kaiser, a baby boy was born.  From the first moment he took in a breath of  life giving air, he only had two things going for him, albeit two great things.  He was born Brazilian and he was born a soccer fan.  The two were to be mutually inclusive, and would always prove to be two of his biggest assets.

Already born a fan of the sport of futebol (soccer), I would play and follow it avidly.  From there it was just a matter of finding the right team to support.  But in such cases you don’t have to look at all because the right team picks you (““You can leave your wife; you can change your wife. You can change your politics. You can change your religion. But, never, never can you change your favorite football team!”).  At 6 years of age my parents took me to the Maracana stadium to watch Flamengo vs Vasco.  My dad, being of Portuguese decent, was a Vasco supporter.  So it only made sense that his only son be taken to this Clasico decked out in a Vasco kit.  My mom’s side of the family were historic Flamengo supporters.  They could trace their support all the way back to when the club was founded.  It was rumored that my great-great-grandfather was present for the first ever soccer match Flamengo played in.  It was in my blood, I had no choice in the matter.  So on that day, during that particular match, when Flamengo when up 2-1 to win the game, I jumped and sang all my praises in support of Flamengo.  My dad, being a proud man, took the Vasco jersey he made me wear off of me and muttered the words, "it’s not in the cards, this kid is Flamengo through and through". 

Unfortunately I’ve had to support my Flamengo from afar through the years, which always left a great strain on my heart.  Sure, I also came to respect and support other clubs in other leagues around the world since it was great to watch their football (Barca, West Ham, AC Milan), but my blood always boiled Red & Black. 

So when I found myself actually living in Rio and at an age to go to games by myself, it was apparent to me that I would never miss a home game.  And it wasn’t enough for me just to go to games and be a casual fan, that was too easy.  I wanted to be a part of something bigger, I wanted to do more for my club.  So I joined a supporters group called Raça Rubro Negra (Red Black Race).  Good times were to be had, and I cherished every minute of my involvement in that group.  But like all good things, my involvement in the group wouldn’t last since I had to move back to the States from fabulous Rio de Janeiro. 

Around the time I was ruing my luck of having to be far away from Flamengo again and worse yet, not being able to support them in the best way possible, 3 brilliant men from the San Francisco Bay Area decided to go out on a venture together and create a website called YouTube.  While it wasn’t the same as actually being there, at least now I could follow Flamengo via various videos shot directly from the crowd.  I was to spend many, many hours viewing videos on YouTube.

Now when the MLS was first founded, I was never really an avid fan of the league nor the franchise in San Jose which was to be dubbed, The Clash.  Why they were called the Clash I’ll never truly know, and I may never want to, but they had god awful looking kits and the only player I really knew was a man named Eric Wynalda. 

I wasn’t present for the first MLS game which was to be played here at Spartan Stadium, but I did watch the game on TV.  After that, I would go to a game here or there, but never truly followed the team nor the league.  When the team changed their name to the San Jose Earthquakes, which I thought was a great move, I still didn’t get too involved.  At the time I had too much going on and my soccer energies were spent elsewhere.

Fast forward to 2008.  I’m sitting on my couch, reminiscing on YouTube about my days in the Red Black Race.  I’m trying to get my girlfriend of whom I had just moved in with, excited about what it means to be a supporter outside of the US.  But serendipity was waiting to knock on my door that day….well actually a friend of mine called and casually mentioned to me that the Earthquakes were coming back to San Jose that year and that we should catch a game.  I had forgotten they had even left to tell you the truth, but I thought, “fuck it I’m game”.  What else am I gonna do on a Saturday?  Stay home and whack off to pop idols?  

For some reason or another, I thought popped into my head.  What if, per chance, there were supporters groups here in the States for MLS teams.  And what if, there was actually one for the San Jose Earthquakes?  Hmmmm, I thought, worth a quick search on the ol internet machine!

To my disbelief, my curiosity had actually paid off!  After navigating the web and hopping onto a site called BigSoccer and finding the San Jose Earthquakes forum, I came to learn that the Quakes actually had 2 supporters groups!  Eureka! 
After reading a few posts, it was clear to me which supporters group I wanted to check out.  So I found the Ultras site (our older, pre-Ipecac site) and emailed Dan.  Opening game was in a weeks time and all the way up at the Oakland Coliseum against the Chicago Fire.  I was told what section to buy tickets and where to find these so called Ultras. 

Even though they were very few in numbers, I knew I’d found my place.  I was hooked and have been ever since.  I didn’t even give a shit about the actual team at the time, I just wanted to be an Ultra.  Gradually, my appreciation for the Quakes grew on me, and they are now a very close second to my beloved Flamengo, so much so that I have shed a few happy tears when they won on the road against the Red Bulls last season.   A game I will never soon forget!

These days I’m ashamed to say that I never really supported my local team until that 2008 season when they came back.  However, better late than never, that’s what I say!  And I’m proud to be a part of this extended family we call Ultras.  Win or lose, I’m an Ultra for life!

-Lake Eerie Drooler

My Ultras story starts with a video game.

It’s January 2007 and I find out that my godson already has the video game I got him (FIFA) for Christmas so now I have to return it and get him a new one.  I think I end up getting him WWE or something like that.  But I kept forgetting to return the copy of FIFA.  After a couple of months I gave up and figured I might as well play it once and see what the big deal was about.  You have to understand that I was a futbol (sorry, I hate calling it “soccer”) hater my entire life before then.  Growing up Mexican you are expected to not only follow the sport but you have to live it.  But as a kid, I hated it.  This was during the time that diving and poor sportsmanship was rampant in Mexican futbol.  I just could not get into it even after playing it in middle school, which was mostly because my cross country coach convinced me that it made sense that I play it.  Instead, I ended up following and playing American football (aka throwball) for the rest of middle school and throughout high school.  My dad kept trying to get me to get interested in the sport but I kept telling him I didn’t like a sport where diving was allowed.

So back to the FIFA video game.  I sucked at it.  And that was against the computer on easy mode.  But I kept playing it.  This was around the time that the company that I worked for let me work from home.   I used to leave the TV on ESPN during the day around the time that they re-played EPL and Champions League matches.  After a while I started to recognize the names I heard on TV and before I knew it, I actually started watching the matches.  Sure the skill was impressive but what really got to me was the creativity of play in these matches.  It made me understand why they called it “The Beautiful Game”.

Now I’m hooked.  Or as the Ultras’ tifo would say, I’m ADDICTED.  I can’t get enough.  I start talking to my boss, who is a Geordie, about football and he gives me his old issues of 4-4-2 magazine which opened up a whole new world to me.  I would read an article on 4-4-2 and then had to look up the history behind it just so I could understand what they were talking about.  But watching it on TV and reading about it wasn’t enough.  Just like any addict, you have to take it to another level.  I remembered that an American futbol league had started some time ago and that a team was even located in San Jose.  But to my huge disappointment I find out that the local team had been moved to Houston.  Well, fuck.  So I have no choice but to keep watching more matches on TV and reading about it.  Then comes the news that the Quakes are coming back!  I start reading the message boards to learn as much as I can about Quakes 2.0 and as soon as it was announced that we could put a deposit down for season tickets, I didn’t even think twice about the $50.  I keep reading the boards and I start reading about a small very passionate group called the “1906 Ultras” and how they’re planning on driving down to LA to watch the very first match of the new Quakes.  Again, I feel like I have to take it another level and I convince my wife, which is 7 months pregnant, that it’s a big deal and that we have to be at the game.  It really helped that she used to be a fan of the Quakes before they were moved.

So we get to the match and join the Ultras. The singing, chanting and atmosphere was just fucking awesome.  We even got a visit from the new owner, Lew Wolff.  How many fans can say they’ve shook hands with the owner of their club?  Even the players walking up to applaud and greet the section of traveling fans after the match was over was so new and great.  As we were making our way home I knew that if I was going to go to another Quakes match in the future, I wanted it to be with the 1906 Ultras.

New Vegas

My introduction to the Ultras came when we played LA at the Coliseum in our inaugural/return season. I was brought into the group by Erik and was promised a lot of fun – lots of booze, singing songs, acting like dickheads and just general madness. It did not disappoint. In all honesty I can’t remember much of that game (I wonder why?!?!) but it was an amazing experience. At the tailgate I was introduced to what felt like 100 people, mostly dudes with Quakes/Ultras gear on. I remembered 3 people’s names – Paulo, Dan and Cezar. That was almost 3 years ago and since then I’ve devoted (way too much) time, energy, money and love to this group. I am now in the enviable position of welcoming new members in and assuring they are of the utmost quality, bred for Ultras battles if you like. WE ARE ULTRAS!

Redbeard