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Friday night in Chester

While I could talk about the action on the pitch, this is not one of those posts.  I will be the first to admit, that most days I have barely the slightest idea what the Union is doing, or should be doing on the field.  This is about the fans, and the disaster in the stadium.

Friday started, for me, as a tiring long slow day at work.  I was excited because I was going to take my brother, nephew, and 10 year old niece to their first Union game.  I had paid and exorbitant amount for tickets on the goal line, row A at PPL, because I thought my niece would love the experience.  Now coming into the game, there was a slight threat of rain, and I knew the Union were having some issues, after losing to Real Madrid.  The game was everything I feared, but that’s not why I am pissed this morning.

No, I’m pissed about the fans at PPL Park.  It started early, with a few people who had yet to get the memo that YSA was off the menu.  OK, whatever, we all know it is going to take most of the season for that to get fixed.  Then the Union start having problems, and the crowd gets nastier.  OK, I was not as happy with the play on the field, but still.  Then some idiot starts a fight in section 134.  When it is all said and done, a number of people are led off in hand cuffs.  In the second half the crowd is snarly, and mean.   Yes, the red card was bad; but the way the fans were acting was a bad showing on us as a team and as a city.

Soccer in America is a family sport; there are no two ways about it.  If you take your seat in PPL 15 minutes before game time, you will see all the small children walking around the field.  The hope is to have a family friendly environment, not unlike the other summer pastime, baseball.  And in the 40th minute PPL Park became The 700 Level, before Eagles Court.  I am embarrassed for my sister-in-law, who may never let my niece come to another game, at least in the near term.  I am embarrassed for the players, who have to deal with these issues.  And I am embarrassed for the city as a whole, that in front of a national audience we are unable to behave like adults.

This is Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, and I’m pissed.

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