In March 2007, the US Men's National Soccer Team (USMNT) came to Raymond James Stadium to play Ecuador. I really wanted to go to that game, but being in the middle of chemo, it didn't seem like a good idea to buy tickets early and hope I was feeling well enough to go. We decided to take our chances and try to get tickets at the game provided I was feeling up to it. The day arrived, bright and sunny and our coach brought the A-team. Donavan, Beasley, Howard and others. There was only one problem. The organizers grossly misjudged the interest in the game and didn't call enough stadium personnel to work that day. The result was not enough ticket takers, or sellers for the crowd that arrived. Traffic was snarled and getting in was a nightmare. The north gate wasn't opened and anyone who tried to pick their tickets up at Will-Call was lucky to get through the gate before more then first quarter of the game was over. Ten minutes into the game and no closer to the ticket window we turned back and headed home. One goal had already been scored. Edward had the forethought to set up to tape the game "just in case" we didn't get in. We went home, started the game and watch from the comfort of the living room, disappointed to not be there in person.Fast forward 3 years...
With the World Cup only four months away, and the USMNT already qualified to go to Johannesburg, South Africa, they once again came to Tampa to play in Raymond James, this time on a Wednesday night, this time against El Salvador. This time we weren't taking any chances. We bought tickets on line and printed them out our selves. We weren't going to chance missing the game because of a fiasco like three years ago.
As game day approached we realized there might be a small problem. Rain. The weather for the day of the game was predicted to be cold and wet. There was a 50% chance of rain, with the highest chance centered on kickoff time. The temperature was supposed to be 52F falling to 48F by the end of the game. Now what? Oh, and the coach was planning on bringing the B-Team, the guys he was looking at to fill out the bench during the World Cup. We wondered what kind of game we were in for, but the tickets were bought, there was no refund. We were going to the game, rain or no.
Checking the radar through the morning, we watched the rain approach. Most of it was going north, but it soon became apparent it was not going to miss us. We got out our long underwear, heavy sweaters and wool socks. We took gloves, hats and heavy boots, too. We stopped at Walgreens and picked up rain ponchos. We were about as ready as can be. And as we left the house, the rain arrived. It had the potential to be a very cold night.
Since game time was 7:00 pm, we decided to head over early, get some dinner near the stadium and hang out until it was time to go the final mile. As we headed for the stadium it started raining even harder. Traffic was the typical snarled mess, with people cutting the line, cops redirecting the cheaters and everyone jockeying for position. After about 15 minutes we were in the parking lot and headed for the gate. So far so good. The rain even lightened up for the walk from the car. We got to our seats 10 minutes before the start of the game. We found our places easily and settled in, drying the seats with towel we'd brought just for that purpose. Then it started to rain harder again. It was time to deploy the ponchos.
About half the crowd had come prepared. Another quarter bought ponchos on site, thin plastic rain covers that had a hood and came down to about your waist. The rest of the folks got wet. Our ponchos worked really well, forming a little tent over our shoulders and lap. When you tucked in your feet you were completely covered. They worked great, even though we both noticed that there was condensation on the inside. It was nothing compared to the outside, which dripped with rain.
The USMNT played well enough. They gave away a horrible goal in the 60th minute when the defense broke down and one of our players gave the ball away to an El Salvadorian six feet from the goal. There was nothing our goalie could do. It was looking grim for our boys. Then in the 75th minute, we scored on a header from Brian Ching. The game was even and things were looking brighter. In fact the rain had stopped to, letting us all come out from under our hoods in the 60th minute. As the clock ticked down it looked like the game might end in a tie. The referee added four minutes of extra time to the game and both sides scrambled to get that one last goal. Then it happened, two minutes into stoppage time Sacha Kljestan took a pass from Brain Ching and slotted it home for the game winner. The final 2-1, USA.
It was neat to be at the game. It was neat to be in Raymond James Stadium. We've still never been there for a Bucs game. And most of all, it was great to walk out of the game warm and dry on a raw winter night in Florida. I only wished the stars of our squad had been there. 21,737 braved the wet weather to support the team. The whole game, Sam's Army cheered, drummed, trumpeted, and sang horribly off key in the south end of the stadium. They show up to every game, and every game they go home hoarse and happy, win or lose. It's what they do. No doubt there will be a small contingent of Sam's Army in South Africa.
Come back to Raymond James, fellas. We like you in Tampa. We had 34,000+ for the game against Ecuador in 2007. That game you brought the A-team. That game was on a Saturday and it was sunny. Pick another Saturday for the game. And if you do come back, we promise we'll try to set another record for game attendance.
