The First 90
A Crazy Plan
As I packed my carry on, the reality of what I was doing had hit. I was meeting up with people I barely knew, flying thousands of miles across the country, meeting up with even more people I didn’t know, and watching a soccer team I didn’t even know the starting XI. They’d never played a minute yet. And if you’re reading this…you know why already. Because I’m not only an AC Boise fan - I’m a River Guardian.
The plan was crazy. Leave on Friday, visit family Saturday morning, meet with the Soccer Zombie Tom Franklin, meet with the Skyway Casuals, then go to the game. A game that the reality of course I’d thought about in the way I tend to think about everything: Hope for the best, plan for the worst. And what is the worst? Well obviously that a player gets hurt. I don’t and never will wish that on anyone. Next would be a well reffed game. I’ve learned that it can be rare in USL1, but it’s always a wish regardless. But the most realistic, the first ever game of AC Boise…that we’d lose. That we’d spend all this time and money, effort and heart, only to watch our side be defeated. So I was prepared for that, truly.
In thinking this way, I came to grips with the reason for why I was doing this. To be there. To be there for our team. Our club. The black and green. To let them know that no matter where they are, or what happens, they are not alone. Not really. We, the River Guard, Idahoans, are there with them.
The 75th Minute
We fly. We land. We checked into the hotel. We visit family and source souvenirs and pick up the Soccer Zombie and meet with the casuals. The reported supporter group mantra rings true: Friends before. Fuck you for 90. Friends after. We get to the stadium and wait out the lightning. And then…we see our club on the pitch for the first time in history. We chant. We sing. The Rowdies fans are awesome and teaching and patient with us. We go over to the Sarasota Paradise supporter group, The Mast, and while there’s not many there, their passion is real. I recognize it as a mirror of my own.
And in the 75th minute, Blake Bodily passes to Tumi Moshobane, who gives it right back, and Blake sends it to the middle where Denys Kostyshyn right foots it in. We erupt. Blake jumps into Helder’s arms. We all converge on him. I realize that it’s not just our group of five anymore, it’s all the staff that traveled. It’s all the family. It’s anyone in AC Boise gear in our southeast corner where the Sarasota staff put us. We own this corner and we’re so happy. That’s the only way to describe it. Euphoria. Glee. We watched history, we were there. Now we wait and hold our breath. 90. Extra time. And finally, suddenly, the referee blows his whistle three times and signals the end of the match.
United by Black and Green
That best I hoped for? Very rarely in life does it happen. My heart is swelling with the realization of what we witnessed. And I swear, for a brief moment, I feel the joy of everyone back home. A part of me wishes I was there, sharing in that love. The team comes over to us and we’re together. It’s felt. We are a community. We’re all now united by this moment. This moment of “where were you when we won?”. I was down in Florida. Others were at home. Most of the River Guardians were at Brown Beard. But we were together, then and now.
United by the crest of AC Boise. By the Black and Green. Forever.
Vamos AC Boise.
Written By: Rodger Jachim, River Guard Co-President and Member
