The Roots couldn’t find a way to win their final game at the Coliseum.
The crowd found a way to make it memorable anyways.
From the chants to a stoppage time moment that brought the entire stadium together, Saturday reminded me that the Coliseum’s greatest gift was never just what happened on the field.
Loved: The Crowd
The Deep Roots section leading their chants and pounding the drums.
The organic “LET’S GO OAKLAND” chants that sprang up from different sections throughout the match.
Los Roots popping off smoke for the first time in the Coliseum, with the wind blowing it in just the right direction to reach the rest of the crowd.
The greatest gift a sports crowd can give you is a moment that sticks. Saturday’s best example came in stoppage time.
A SAFC player staying down after the Roots were awarded a penalty in stoppage time allowed the game to sit for a moment. The moment allowed for the Coliseum’s energy to slowly build as “DALE, DALE, DALE OAKLAND ROOTS” spread from the Deep Roots section to the rest of the crowd. That moment captured my niece and nephew and pulled them out of their seats. It moved their hands to clap. It moved their tiny voices to chant with the crowd.
The way it felt like the Coliseum was about to burst.
And for a moment it did.
When Jesus de Vicente buried the rebound after San Antonio’s keeper saved Peter Wilson’s attempt, it felt like the concrete behemoth levitated.
Sure, the goal was wiped off the scoreboard because the referee ruled de Vicente had entered the box too early.
Officially, the moment never counted.
Still, memory doesn’t work like that.
We often don’t remember the scores of games. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a lot of the 26,000 people who attended last year’s home opener who can tell you the final score of the match. But they might tell you about Justin Rasmussen’s bicycle kick. Someone might not remember the score of last season’s finale against Lexington, but they’ll remember Peter Wilson winning the Golden Boot.
And a few years from now, my niece and nephew won’t remember the score of Saturday’s game. They’ll remember that long interlude before the penalty kick. And the swift kick in the gut when the goal was taken off the board.
Unsure: Was the Finale a Fitting End to the Roots’ Coliseum Tenure?
Hear me out: I would have loved a win to end the Roots’ time at the Coliseum as much as anyone. Still, the match proved emblematic of the last two years there.
A big crowd excited about coming back to the Coliseum.
An atmosphere buoyed by the efforts of the crowd, not lifted by the performance on the pitch.
An offense that appeared stuck in the mud.
An inability to convert the big chances that did appear.
An unsatisfying conclusion.
From the highs of the excitement of the opener to the lows of the matches before Gavin Glinton’s firing last year, the best memories often came from the stands, not the pitch.
The lows? Eight scoreless home league matches last season. Six more this year. Three months between home victories last season. Almost four (!) months between victories at the Coliseum this year.
The highs? The way the crowd celebrated Peter Wilson winning the Golden Boot in last season’s finale as if the club had won a championship. The way a sparse crowd went wild for the Bad Bunny Halftime Drag Show. The electricity in the stands before kickoff against San Antonio last year. The familiar screams as we exited the Coliseum for the last time Saturday night.
Despite the crowd’s efforts to push the team towards the winning goal, the Roots couldn’t make it happen on Saturday. It wasn’t for a lack of trying.
But maybe that’s what made Saturday feel familiar.
The Roots’ Coliseum tenure will be remembered because it gave so many of us a chance to visit the Mecca of Oakland sports one last time. I got to take my 1.5-year-old son to a game at the Coliseum. When the A’s left, I never thought I’d get that opportunity. I’ll always be grateful to the Roots for that.
It will be remembered for the supporters. For Los Roots’ drums serving as the heartbeat of the stadium. For the crowd coming together and producing moments that felt bigger than the match itself.
The soccer often struggled to match the occasion. But the crowd made it feel like it did.
Isn’t there a more fitting way for the Roots’ Coliseum chapter to end?
Hated: Nothing.
Sure, there are things I didn’t like about the match. San Antonio’s goalkeeper coming off his line on Peter Wilson’s penalty. The final score. The missed opportunity to drastically improve their playoff hopes.
Still, with an occasion as momentous as the last game at the Coliseum, I won’t fill this piece with hate.
Too many great memories exist at that place to let the occasion share space with hate.
The only thing I hate is that we won’t get to make any more.