—by Andrew Brawley

Apparently the couple in front of me at last night’s Timbers/Whitecaps match, that’s who! I wish I was exaggerating here, but it seemed like these two couldn’t be more than six inches away from each other for the entire match (pre-game, game, and post-game).

I can admit to being young once. Maybe my poor track record with women made me a bit jealous. Maybe my age prevents me from allowing young love to naturally blossom in my surroundings. Maybe I’m upset that as a married suburbanite, I had nothing to do with Portland’s recent claim to fame as being the most promiscuous city in the US (side note: we beat Seattle!).

Ooooorrrrrrr…

Maybe I just recognize that there is a time and place for making out. It’s called the couch in Mom and Dad’s living room after they’ve gone to bed, and NOT in the Timbers Army section. Ever!

I didn’t buy season tickets to have my view suddenly blocked by tongues battling it out in a collective mouth. I bought them because I want to support the team I love. I actually found a way to watch the game, sing and dance along with the array of chants, and hold one or two beers all at the same time. This is not an easy process, so I consider it to be a major accomplishment. Your constant flow of PDA is throwing off my game.

Alright, so I might be turning into Andy Rooney, but y’know what else made it annoying? Yesterday was the hottest day in Portland for 2011. First day above 90 degrees. (Brief pause to allow nearly all other MLS team supporters to quit laughing.) It was pretty disgusting out there. Despite everyone’s best efforts, anti-perspirant and cologne can only help so much. In short, we all smelled pretty bad. I know when I try to impress a lady, I prefer to be clean. Maybe you’re meant to be together since you both like making out in a sea of smelly filth. Call me old-fashioned, but in that temperature, I don’t even wanna shake my wife’s hand.

It is well-documented that there are many happy couples out there who were brought together by the Timbers Army experience. Marriages. Babies. Grandkids. They’re all there, and we honor and respect them. However, it’s the Beautiful Game that is the centerpiece of this experience. If you feel obligated to put on a show in front of a bunch of sweaty party-goers, take it down to Club Sesso.

This is an opinion piece and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the 107ist or the Timbers Army.