“[dropcap]D[/dropcap]etroit City ain’t nothing to f— with!”
The cry rang out just after the 80th minute Friday night, when agitation between City and Lansing United escalated, nearly spiraling out of control when officials failed to properly lasso the misconducts. A red card was given to United defender Ben Lamb, and by the time the whistle was blown, over a handful of cards were shown — and that’s just after halftime.
As blood dripped down the cheek of City captain Josh Rogers while he spoke following the 1-0 victory, it was time to process the weight of it all.
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One can feel perturbed when traveling to an MLS city and back, as I did last weekend. In Columbus for a music festival, I spent almost as much time soaking up the music as I did the soccer atmosphere. I reveled in Arsenal and Atletico Madrid’s trophy successes, and took in a Crew match at an official supporters’ pub. As a U.S. soccer supporter, the sights are impossible to ignore surrounding the grounds where we’ve established dominance over our greatest rival.
In the soccer community, we’re viewed as — and often times are — a bunch of profane, beer-swigging clones of Veruca Salt. We want more, and we want it now, until we reach the pinnacle and the club or country we support is sitting squarely on the apex of the pyramid…even if it turns us bloated and blue.
As the golden tickets for MLS franchises are given away, the utter frustration within ourselves mounts. The crowds of sides backed by seemingly limitless ambition multiplies. One of only 12 cities with four major sports teams, and three (not including Miami) are left without a top-tier side. Detroit, with its limitless adoration for sports, is not meant to be without a seat at this table.
This city deserves more. It deserves its chance.
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Detroit City FC beat new in-state rivals, Lansing United, 1-0 Friday evening. Photo provided by Brian Quintos
It’s easy to forget what sports feel like from a press box. As a scribe, all those sensations you felt as a kid that set a path to be in the business are to be suppressed and snuffed out, priming one’s self as a soldier of objectivity. It’s a code to abide by, whether the crowd is made of 100 or 100,000.
Normally, that’s acceptable. But it’s impossible to ignore what’s happening at Cass Tech the past several weeks. How easy it’d be to write off this season’s progress after being eliminated from the U.S. Open Cup. The army that’s ruining football and doesn’t care is, if not multiplying, expanding rapidly. To lament over what isn’t from afar is foolish, I realized. To fly from the inside for this match was the only way to feel.
The word cult has negative connotations about it, but forget about that. There’s few other ways to go about describing the emotions you get standing among those in support of Le Rouge, much like other soccer proper soccer atmospheres. The cause and objective is simple, the passion unmatched. It’s not to be replicated, because it simply can’t be. In Detroit, it’s truly the only of its kind.
And in those moments, from Rogers’ conversion from the spot, to the scrum near the end of the match, and doing the “Tetris” in between, everything else — the desires of expansive recognition, the grandiose ambitions — are totally swept aside.
Who cares what they’ve got? The crowds are growing, peaking at 3,112. A gap at the top of the table is increasing. Major outlets are realizing what they’ve been missing, slowly trickling in to inform the masses.
Much like a soccer box score or possession statistics, Detroit City FC’s growth might be somewhat quantified by numbers, but to fully realize its greatness, it’s probably best to be scarfed and engulfed by smoke bombs.
I’ll probably take back to the quiet of the press box next time, but Friday night I was where the same things mattered to everyone: three points and good times.
Expect more of both to come.
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