The Thorns kicked off their 2021 Challenge Cup last night with a 2–1 win against the nameless team from Kansas City, thanks to goals by Rocky Rodríguez and Tyler Lussi. What was mostly a routine and successful first game by a Portland team missing a number of players to international duty and injury turned sour toward the end. Danielle Chesky issued a record-setting four red cards, one to Mark Parsons, and a mass scuffle broke out between the two teams. Here are a few of my thoughts:
1. Things started well and were mostly normal
Up until the last three minutes of this game (more on that later), it really felt like the story was going to be that this was a solid first outing for a short-staffed Thorns side against a brand-new Kansas City team that looked to still be finding their feet and struggled to dictate the game.
The Thorns started a few players in new positions—Rodríguez at the No. 6, Marissa Everett at the No. 10, and most delightfully, Kling at the No. 8 (again, more on that later)—but stuck with the 4-4-2 diamond from last season and deployed a game plan we’re used to seeing. They mostly defended well, working to keep KC out of the center of the field and looking to trap them on the wings. Offensively, they found success on set pieces and through direct attacks in transition, as well as using combinations between Kling, Rodríguez, and the overlapping runs of Madison Pogarch and Christen Westphal to break lines of pressure and get into dangerous areas.
Kansas City, meanwhile, often looked to trap Portland centrally. It sometimes worked, but more often ended either in a foul or with Kling or Rodríguez breaking the pressure and sending the ball into empty space between KC’s midfield and back line. In the second half, the visitors started to find more success defensively—while Portland’s defensive structure sometimes broke down—but the Thorns held on for the win despite a second-half goal by Amy Rodriguez shortly after Portland’s second. At the end of the game, one stat painted a clear picture of the gap between the two teams: Kansas City had just one player with a passing accuracy of 80% or higher, center back Rachel Corsie, while Portland had five, including Rodríguez.
All in all, it was a strong debut for Portland—not without some miscommunications and errors, but fewer than we might expect in a more normal year.
2. Meghan Klingenberg had a big day
Much of the Thorns’ offense last night went through Kling, who translated her status as a leader in the locker room into a shift as team captain—playing in central midfield!
I never would have anticipated this move from Mark Parsons, but as the game played out, it made sense. For one thing, Kling has always been an attacking-minded player, both as an outside back and at UNC, where she did shifts on all three lines. In addition, this Thorns formation involves the two No. 8s spending a lot of time out wide, something that added a new wrinkle to Lindsey Horan’s play last year. In that sense, her role last night shared similarities with her usual spot at left back: she linked up with Po to create wide overloads, sent in crosses, and defended the wing.
But she also did some things I’ve never seen her do with my own eyes. She dribbled and passed through the center of the field, broke through pressure from Kansas City, and worked to set up chances centrally. She looked confident under pressure and set a lot of Portland’s attacks in motion. It was strange to watch, like seeing your school librarian at the grocery store, but also very fun and on the whole pretty successful. When I asked her about it after the game, she had this to say:
“Well,KatelynBest,Ithinkthat,youknow,thathappenstomeallthetimeinpractice,andnoweverybodyjustgetstoseeitinthegame [laughs] Youknow, in rondosandallthesedifferentthings,I’maskedtohandlepressurefromallsides… I’vebeenaskingforyearstoplayin the [No.] 10—givemeashot,givemeachance,Mark,givemeatryout!And I finallygotone,sohopefullyIliveduptothetryout…Ithinklasttime,ItalkedtoAnson [Dorrance]thismorningbecauseit’shisbirthday.AndItoldhimthatIwasgoingtobeplayinginthe[No.] 8andhe’slike, ‘oh,you’llbefine.Youplayedthereforforusincollege.’Soitmademefeelbetteraboutit.”
3. Uhhhhhh
After a mostly straightforward 89 minutes, things got weird. There’s no need for me to rehash what we all saw, but I do want to say that multiple things can be true, and these are some things I believe to be true:
Danielle Chesky has a bad reputation for a reason; she’s already officiated games that turned ugly, she missed a number of clear calls in this one, and she probably should not be working at this level anymore. The quality of refereeing in the women’s game is a real issue and reflects a disparity with men’s soccer.
Morgan Weaver deserved a yellow. She clearly wrapped her arm around Kristen Edmonds’s waist, which seemed to be what caused them to both fall down. She then very clearly shoved Edmonds. That’s not nothing! Obviously Edmonds escalated and deserved to see red for that, but it defies reason to say Weaver did nothing wrong.
We’ve all been guilty of using language that seems innocuous to us, but might be loaded for other groups for reasons we don’t see in the moment. It’s a crucial skill for those of us with privilege—whether that’s based on race, gender, orientation, whatever—to be able to listen to marginalized people and admit when we made a mistake.
Portland coach Giovanni Savarese understood the task at hand before the Timbers even touched down in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, for the first leg of their CONCACAF Champions League series against CD Marathón.
He knew that Marathón, a team that’s won just two of its first ten league games in the clausura season, wanted to make the most of a fresh start in a new competition. That they would be comfortable sitting back before springing into attack.
Earlier in the week, Savarese talked about the directness and individual talent Marathón possessed, and acknowledged that the opening game would be a good time for his team to test their mettle, especially with the ball.
In many ways, that’s exactly what played out on Tuesday in Portland’s 2–2 draw at the Estadio Olimpico Metropolitano. The Timbers finished the game with 58% of the possession, outshot Marathón 16–12, and completed 107 more passes.
In their first competitive game since the first round of the 2020 MLS Cup Playoffs, Portland was given both the ball and the onus to do something with it against a compact opponent. While known more as a counter-attacking team in the Savarese era, the Timbers will face games where they need to break teams down with the ball. A season ago, the team showed progress in that facet of their game––hey, fewer hopeful crosses is always a good thing––and received an early opportunity to test themselves in possessional play this season.
“I thought it was very competitive, and I thought that we did a lot of very good things, especially in the first half,” Savarese said. “We created chances. Unfortunately, we couldn’t capitalize a little bit more on the chances we created.”
The Timbers started the match on the front foot and found themselves with multiple scoring opportunities early. Yimmi Chará continuously attacked Marathón left back Luis Vega down the right wing, which created danger right away. Winger Dairon Asprilla later bodied off a defender to get a shot off in the box that he dragged wide by a good margin. In the 27th minute, midfielder Eryk Williamson nearly pulled off a moment of magic with a side-footed shot that keeper Denovan Torres did well to save.
Then, in the 35th minute, Portland found its breakthrough when striker Felipe Mora brought down the ball in the box and squeezed the ensuing shot under Torres’ outstretched right hand.
The goal, while not flashy, perfectly exemplified the Timbers’ effective possession play. With the team in their attacking third, right back Josecarlos Van Rankin slowly made his way from the right side of the field to the left half-space where he received the ball from left back Claudio Bravo, beat two defenders, and chipped a ball with his left foot to Mora, who found the back of the net.
Van Rankin’s addition into the attack provided the Timbers with an offensive wrinkle in possession, which helped them break down coach Hector Vargas’ compact side. The right back’s presence in that left half-space drew Marathón center back Mathías Techera away from Mora for a split-second, which allowed the striker to control the ball and get a shot off. While there are potential drawbacks to that type of cross-field run––say the ball turns over quickly and that entire space is vacated––the addition of Van Rankin into the attack proved crucial in Portland’s first goal of 2021.
Savarese also asked Mora to drop into midfield from time to time to help the Timbers create numerical advantages in central areas while in possession. With wingers Yimmi Chará and Asprilla tasked with stretching Marathón’s defense, Mora had plenty of room to work with when he dropped back and combined with midfielders Diego Valeri or Eryk Williamson. While Mora seemed to tire near the end of 90 minutes, his ability to drop into midfield and also finish opportunities in attack will certainly prove useful for Portland this season.
Savarese said the team went into the game with the aforementioned goal of stretching Marathón out, especially between midfield and defense, to create more space in possession. He felt like the team did that, especially early.
“I think that the balance that we have with Diego Chará and Eryk [Williamson] in the middle was very, very good,” Savarese said. “The defense handled the long balls really well, and going forward we were patient enough to find the right moment to keep the ball or to get behind to create opportunities.”
Valeri thrived in the additional space created in midfield. The Timbers star scored the (own) goal of the game from a free-kick taken from yards behind the box and constantly popped up in vacant midfield spaces. The Argentinian played a large role in both finding and creating the “right attacking moments” that Savarese mentioned.
“He was phenomenal today,” Savarese said. “He was very active and found a lot of good spaces to give us the chance to be able to be vertical.”
While Portland looked effective in possession through large stretches of play, it wasn’t all perfect. The Timbers failed to capitalize on multiple golden opportunities. In the 57th minute, Yimmi Chará had a great opportunity on a corner kick that fell into his path in the box with nobody around him, but he didn’t put enough power on the ball and shot it straight at Torres.
Marathón’s deeper formation also enticed Portland to creep further up the field, which opened up new spaces for the very direct Central American side to attack through. That’s what happened in the 68th minute when midfielder Kervin Arriaga found plenty of room between the Timbers’ lines to drive into before delivering a well-weighted pass to forward Marlon Ramírez who leveled the score 2–2.
“Arriaga found moments to dribble and become a little more dangerous,” Savarese said. “Then they found some corners and more dangerous crosses.”
On Tuesday, Timbers fans got their first look at what Savarese wants his team to look like when forced to play with the ball. In just under a week, some will see it first hand when the team returns to Portland with a 2–2 result to defend and everything to play for.
“We’re not satisfied with this result,” Savarese said, “but scoring two goals away is very important.”
Photos by Matthew Wolfe (left) and Kris Lattimore (right)
Portland midfielder Eryk Williamson’s downtown apartment is pretty simple. There’s furniture and standard appliances, but nothing out of the ordinary. In both appearance and purpose, it’s just a place for him to crash between team training sessions and games.
Just two canvases hang from the apartment’s beige walls. One is a classic world map. The other is a picture of Williamson and his close friend—and Timbers teammate—Jeremy Ebobisse.
The lack of pictures and wall art throughout the apartment gives more weight to what is hung up. That’s certainly true with the cropped picture of him and Ebobisse, which was taken during Portland’s 2019 media day. In it, Ebobisse is hanging onto Williamson’s back. Both are smiling.
“It’s one of the two canvases I have up in my place,” Williamson said. “It’s one that really speaks to our relationship. About how I have his back, and he has my back.”
Ebobisse and Williamson have built a rapport on the field, but their relationship didn’t start in Portland. They’ve known one another since they were teenagers playing youth soccer in the Washington, DC suburbs. When they grew older, they became teammates in the United States youth national team system and competed at the Under-20 World Cup in South Korea together.
Now, they’re both expected to play important roles for a Timbers team with MLS Cup aspirations. The photo from that 2019 media day serves as a humbling reminder of where both players started and how they’ve progressed in their careers. Most importantly, it’s a symbol of their close bond years in the making.
“We’re always joking around, Ebobisse said. “They just so happened to capture that moment with a picture.”
It’s not uncommon to hear multiple languages at Portland’s training sessions. Those nearby are just as likely to witness coach Giovanni Savarese belting out instructions in Spanish as they are to hear players shout at each other in French or English during a heated drill.
Listen carefully and you also might also hear the word “sice.” It sounds natural in conversation, but like other regional jargon, it stands out.
The term is DC lingo used after a hyperbolic or exaggerated saying, commonly after jokes. Williamson gave the example of calling someone’s foot bigger than their head. Because that isn’t true, it’s often followed “sice” or “I’m sicing you.” It’s a small thing, but speaks to a commonality Williamson and Ebobisse share from growing up just miles apart.
“That’s something that me and Jeremy have on a lot of guys,” Williamson said. “We have this lingo and can get around explaining it to them, or use it as our own little word that we use until they figure it out.”
Photo by Kris Lattimore
Williamson grew up in Alexandria, Virginia, just south of downtown DC, while Ebobisse grew up north of the city in nearby Bethesda, Maryland. Both were ‘97 kids who played a year up for their club teams—Williamson for the Annandale Firestorm and Ebobisse for the Olney Rangers.
The two first played against one another when they were 12 or 13 years old. Williamson said Ebobisse’s style immediately stood out, specifically the frosted tips the young forward sported. However, the hair—which Williamson later learned came from the chlorine in pools Ebobisse competitively swam in—paled in comparison to Ebobisse’s talent on the field.
Just five minutes into the game, Ebobisse took a shot 40 yards from goal, which rattled the crossbar and rebounded to Williamson in midfield. The Firestorm lost 6–1 that day.
As they grew older, the pair continued to compete against each other, Williamson in Virginia’s Olympic Development Program (ODP) system and Ebobisse for Maryland’s ODP.
Eventually, Williamson and Ebobisse became teammates on the United States U-20 youth national team, where they roomed together at international competitions. They often joked around and enjoyed each other’s company, but also spent plenty of time discussing their game on the field, providing one other with suggestions and constructive criticism.
The occasional deep conversations at night—whether about their personal lives or struggles on the field—helped their relationship blossom.
“We were really able to understand each other’s tendencies,” Ebobisse said. “The things that made us uncomfortable [and] the things that made us really click. By the end of our time there, it wasn’t one of those situations where we didn’t want to be around each other any more.”
The text popped up on Ebobisse’s phone out of the blue.
“RCTID…,” it read.
It consisted of just an acronym, but Ebobisse knew right away what Williamson meant. RCTID: Rose City ‘Til I Die, the Timbers’ recognizable social media hashtag. His close friend, who he grew up competing against and later roomed with, was about to become his teammate in Portland.
“I told him that he better not be messing with me,” Ebobisse said. “But it turns out that he had made the decision and what happened, happened. He was due to fly in 24 hours later and I was just excited.”
Ebobisse had spent a portion of that summer at his home in Maryland. He sometimes played pickup soccer at the nearby University of Maryland campus, where Williamson went to school. Right before Ebobisse returned to Portland for preseason, the two had an honest conversation about the young midfielder’s career goals.
At the time, Williamson was mulling over the decision to either stay in school and play collegiately for another season or to go pro. If he chose to go pro, Williamson told Ebobisse, he would probably end up at one of two different clubs, one being Portland. Still, Ebobisse never thought he would actually share the field with Williamson that very season.
Then the text arrived, sending Ebobisse scrambling to come up with a plan to welcome his friend to his adopted home.
He first volunteered to pick Williamson up from the airport, but a team official had that covered. Instead, Ebobisse took Williamson out to dinner at one of his favorite sushi spots in Portland, Bamboo Sushi, later that night. In a way, Ebobisse wanted to give his friend—completely new to the west coast—something he didn’t have when he first arrived in Portland.
“The previous year, I didn’t have many close relationships on the team,” Ebobisse said. “As a young rookie in an older locker room with a lot of cultural experiences, I didn’t necessarily find my footing immediately. That was definitely a helping hand in my process as much as I helped him as well.”
Off the field, Williamson and Ebobisse played board games like Settlers of Catan and explored the city, often taking trips to local coffee shops. They also roomed together on road trips, where they continued the honest conversations they had while with the youth national teams.
Photo by Nikita Taparia
In 2019, specifically, those discussions really helped Williamson, who struggled to earn minutes with the first team while Ebobisse began to break into the starting eleven. The midfielder asked his friend about what he needed to get out of training and how he could stand out. While nothing changed immediately, those exchanges, which stemmed from their close bond, proved pivotal.
“When you spend that much time with someone, it’s not always going to be joking and laughter,” Ebobisse said. “Sometimes, it’s going to be about serious personal growth on both of our ends. We’ve both gone through a lot on the athletic front and then we’ve also had a lot of different experiences personally. They shaped the way that we do our jobs in the world and we trust each other to give and receive that advice.”
At the time, Ebobisse treaded lightly. He knew Williamson was working as hard as he could to earn time with the first team beyond US Open Cup games and heavily rotated midweek lineups. So, Ebobisse became his friend’s sounding board, having experienced similar early struggles prior to his breakthrough.
“I think he realized that he stepped in right when I think I needed it the most,” Williamson said. “There have been times, it may have been car rides either to or from an event or something along those lines, where it was reassuring. Although I’m not playing, people believe in me and want me to keep pushing.”
They’ve had those conversations more recently too, after neither received a call-up to the United States U-23s to take part in the 2020 Olympic qualifying tournament. Both Ebobisse and Williamson made the preliminary roster, but didn’t make the final cut for manager Jason Kreis’s 20-man team.
“I think we were both a little frustrated there, but we both know that this is a big year for us,” Williamson said. “We sat down and had that conversation. We can’t dwell on it and we have to keep moving forward. Ultimately we have each other and we will do it together.”
As the 2021 MLS season approaches, both are preparing to take another leap forward in their careers. Despite not making the Olympic qualifying roster, they are more confident than ever before, and a lot of that stems from those conversations and their close bond.
What began as a competitive relationship in the DC club soccer scene developed into a close bond built up during their time on youth national teams and now with the Timbers. So, regardless of what happens this season or in the future, the pair will always have one another.
It’s something Williamson is reminded of every day, thanks to the picture, in canvas form, that hangs from his apartment walls.
Simone Charley. Unrelated to the photos from Thorns media day. Photo by Kris Lattimore.
Well, you saw the title of this post. Let’s not waste any time gabbing away, hm?
11.
This one is good because Meaghan Nally’s friends and family get to enjoy her radiant smile, and also her enemies can see how strong and healthy her teeth are to know she will not be easily defeated.
Four women who went to Harvard Law are starting a boutique firm together. The office is a casual environment—one of them even brings her dog to work—and they do lots of pro-bono work for low-SES and undocumented clients. “We’re sort of like a family,” they say.
A true story about me is that one time Nadine Angerer called me a “soft egg,” which I guess means I’m squishy and delicate? It wasn’t an insult, but it also wasn’t a compliment. It was just an observation, like everything Germans say. Then she laughed good naturedly like this:
The most popular girl in school asks you to prom. She could have gone with anyone, but she chose you, the eccentric loner who eats lunch in the library and listens to bands no one else has heard of. You’re so different from everyone else, and she just wants to get to know you.
The girl who sits next to you in pre-calc asks you to prom. Your only real interactions are checking your homework together and passing notes about substitute teachers. She knows you don’t know each other very well but she thinks you’re really funny and thought it might be fun to hang out for the night? She really hopes this isn’t weird.
You’re sixteen years old and you just read one of your poems at an open mic night for the first time. Your big sister is going to college an hour away, and you invited her, but you weren’t sure if she’d come—but she did, and she’s so proud of you.
Oh, hello. Surprised to see me in your chambers? I’ve been waiting for you. That’s right, I know all about what happened to the queen’s prized jewels. The captain of the guard awaits only my command. You won’t last long in Her Majesty’s dungeon—and just when we were getting to be such good friends! Unless… we can work something out?
It is December of 2002. The University of Portland women’s soccer team is in Austin, Texas, about to play Santa Clara for the NCAA championship. The Oregonian calls the team “more blue collar than showtime”; they’re known for their gritty defense, which has shut out every opponent so far, and their star striker, a sophomore out of Burnaby, British Columbia named Christine Sinclair, who has notched seven goals so far in the playoffs. They are a tight-knit group, punching well above their weight for a school of just over 3,000 students.
They have a rallying cry: win it for Clive. Their beloved coach, the 50-year-old Clive Charles, told the team he had cancer last spring. He’s getting treatment, but it’s a losing battle. In his thirteen seasons coaching the women, he’s come close to a championship several times, but never won, and his team knows this might be his last shot.
Here in Portland, a thousand or so students pile into the Chiles Center to watch the game on the big screen. UP students mingle with alumni and families; in one section, a pack of rowdy kids wearing only face paint and “kilts” (really a few yards of tartan fabric wrapped haphazardly around the waist) who call themselves the Villa Drum Squad pound drums and chant.
This is where women’s soccer as it exists in Portland today started to take shape. The scale is small, but you can catch a glimpse here of what Providence Park will look like 15 years in the future, just before a Thorns game kicks off—the drums, the tifos, the buzz in the air. At a school with no football team, in a city deeply unaccustomed to winning championships, Christine Sinclair is the biggest show in town.
This is the house that Clive built—without it, the Thorns wouldn’t be what they are—and in building it, he touched countless lives. Here’s how he did it, from the perspectives of three of those people.
1. Ganty
It is 1978, the Timbers’ fourth year in existence. Clive has just arrived in Portland. Soccer is still a novelty in the states, but the NASL is growing, with aging stars like Pelé, Franz Beckenbauer, and George Best drawing attention. Attendance for the Timbers has been respectable, with averages between 13,000 and 20,000 in their first three seasons.
The club bought Clive from Cardiff City, where he had captained the team to promotion to the second tier. Brian Gant, a midfielder for the Timbers from 1977–1982—who is also, not coincidentally, Christine Sinclair’s uncle—describes Clive as “ahead of his time” as a player, an attacking outside back before attacking outside backs were really a thing.
“The back four back in those days, it was all about take no prisoners,” Gant says. “You had these all these big, strong physical guys, but he was a flair player who had a great left foot, incredible. He used to always tell guys, ‘hey, guys, I could play a tune on the piano with this left foot.’”
Photo courtesy of the Portland Timbers
But it’s Clive the teammate, not Clive the player, who would really make an impression. That spring, when he walked into the Timbers’ dressing room at Catlin Gabel for the first time, the gravity shifted in his direction. “I thought, wow, he’s a friendly sort of guy, he is,” remembers Gant. “He was just the most easygoing, funny, just charismatic guy you’d ever meet.”
By that time, a substantial contingent of Timbers players were calling Portland home year-round. The club had already brought on Gant, Clyde Best, Willie Anderson, and John Bain. “The league itself was starting to become a lot more professional. And, you know, players were starting to come here, and Portland had a great reputation of being a good soccer city. The fans took care of us… the Timbers Army was started back then. And it was well looked at throughout the league, as well, as a great little soccer town.”
The team started to cohere, with Clive at its center. “Clive was the type of guy that was always talking and wanting to do things,” says Gant, who paints a picture of that time as a kind of summer camp. Much of the team lived in the same area in Beaverton, and they started going to lunch together every day. At lunch, they’d make plans for the rest of the day—golf if it was nice or pool if it wasn’t, always competitive. “Pretty soon, you had this whole group of guys that were all of a sudden not just connected on the soccer field, but connected off the soccer field.”
Clive called everyone by a nickname. Gant, who is tall and lanky, was Spider Man or Spidey, and eventually just Ganty; Clive himself was Charlo or Chazzy or the Dean of Divot, on the golf course. “We all knew it wasn’t to make fun of the person. It was to make that person feel special. Like, ‘oh, I got I got this title!’” He had that effect on people, of making them feel special.
There was no spotlight for an NASL player. The crowds weren’t huge, and many fans didn’t really understand the game. But they were enthusiastic, in part because Clive and his teammates spent time selling the game of soccer to the community. Clive could make friends with anybody, and the team as a whole was accessible on a level that’s unthinkable today. There were signings at Fred Meyer; after games, the team would go to the bar at the Hilton or the Benson and someone would invite them to their kid’s birthday, and they would actually go. “We’d show up at a party and say hi to the kids, play soccer with the kids in the backyard,” says Gant. “And you know, get a free meal.”
A few years later, like so many American leagues, the NASL went under. Clive spent the last few years of his career playing indoor soccer, which he reportedly hated, bouncing from Pittsburgh to LA. Eventually he and his wife Clarena came back to Portland, drawn by the growing soccer community the Timbers had sown. Back home, players of Clive’s caliber were a dime a dozen—and for a Black man, the outlook was especially poor. “He said, ‘Ganty, if I go back to England, all retired soccer players, all they want to do is open up a pub.’” He didn’t want that. He wanted to build something.
2. Tiffeny
It is the early 1980s. Clive is putting flyers under windshield wipers at a strip mall in Gresham.
Clive was a product of the West Ham academy, and he had a vision for Portland: a development pipeline from the youth level up through college, a place for local kids to get real training and grow into world-class talents.
But first he had to find the kids. So he and his fellow coaches, including Gant, would xerox a stack of pamphlets advertising a weekend- or week-long camp and pass them out all over town. Before long, they were booked for a whole summer, and Clive had secured a sponsorship from Fred Meyer.
It was at one of those camps that a particular kid, seven or eight years old, caught Clive’s attention. Tiffeny Milbrett was the only girl on the field, and Clive was transfixed. “He said, ‘oh my god, this kid is something else,’” remembers Gant. Their meeting was to set into motion a chain of events that ends with the Thorns becoming the best-supported women’s club in the world.
At that time, high-level women’s soccer basically didn’t exist. It wasn’t an NCAA sport until 1982; the first World Cup wouldn’t happen until 1991. Clive had grown up in a country whose governing body refused to sanction women’s competitions. But he didn’t bat an eye to see a girl dominating her age level.
“[That’s the] biggest thing with him, because even in this day and age,” says Milbrett, “there’s still plenty of men who don’t want to respect women in general, let alone respect women playing sports… I mean, we didn’t even have names for it back then, and he truly was a human being that, literally across the board, he was going to give the same respect and attention.”
He quickly became not just Milbrett’s coach, but a mentor and a role model. “He adored that kid,” says Gant, “ not only as a soccer player but as a person.”
Milbrett calls Clive “the most important male influence in my life. Most people probably just thought he was my coach, but he really influenced me in a very strong way through the game.”
From a young age, she was independent and confident, both on and off the field. Growing up with a single mom who had to leave for work early every day, she was often responsible for herself. “I think I’m very independent because of how I grew up,” Milbrett says. “And Clive really was one of the first top-level coaches that, it was ok to be a very, very strong, independent, confident woman. He was never, ever afraid of strong women. Ever. And you have far too many men, even the ones that say that their coach is 100% to the women’s side—I’m sorry, I experienced too many men that even in the women’s game, they can’t handle strong women.”
Where many coaches use their authority like a cudgel and feel threatened by questions or dissent, Clive saw Milbrett’s independence as an asset and nurtured it, helping her grow into the fearless goalscorer she became. “Tiffeny was the vision,” says Gant. “Clive said, I want a team full of those… that’s why he said, ‘we’ve got to have FC Portland, we’ve got to have that. We’ve got to develop these kids.’”
Photo courtesy of FC Portland
By 1987, he’d scrapped the clinics and started FC Portland, where Milbrett trained through the end of high school. By that point, Clive had been coaching the University of Portland men for a few years, and it was largely because of a desire to keep coaching Milbrett that he agreed to take over the women’s program, too.
UP was a small school, and Clive relied on his personality and his reputation as a coach, rather than the reputation of his program, to draw players. Anson Dorrance, who had helped push the NCAA to recognize women’s soccer as a collegiate sport, was drawing the vast majority of the top talent to North Carolina. “When Clive was picking players,” Gant says, “The first thing he did, he says, ‘I got to have quality character.’… so many of the girls that played for Clive that made the program so special were hard-working players. They’re good, honest citizens, good, honest students. They weren’t necessarily the best players throughout the country.”
Of course, there were exceptions, genuine world-class talents who came through UP. Milbrett was one; Shannon MacMillan, who Milbrett overlapped with, was another. Then there’s the GOAT herself.
3: Sinc
It is 2001. Christine Sinclair has just started at UP.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Sinc ended up in Portland. Clive had been a presence in her life before she was born. “My parents used to actually rent a house from him and Clarena up in Canada,” she told me a few years ago (Clarena is Canadian, and the couple had considered moving to Vancouver after Clive’s playing career). Clive didn’t just build women’s soccer in Portland, he built its most important player, kind of literally.
Sinc choosing UP was the natural outcome, but not just because her family knew Clive. As a shy 18-year-old, she needed a nurturing environment like his program. “I think I would have gotten lost in some of those bigger schools,” she said when she signed with the Thorns.
Photo by Darren Lloyd
“She came here for the way [he mentored] people,” says Gant, “and because Sinc’s a pretty quiet kid, for the most part. She’s pretty quiet. And she was like that growing up.”
Sinc would probably have become a legend wherever she’d gone to college, but it’s less clear she would have become the kind of legend she is—the respected leader, the consummate teammate—without Clive’s influence. Clive was gregarious and charming where Sinc is quiet and thoughtful, but if you’ve heard Sinc’s teammates talk about her, listening to people who were close to Clive talk about him sounds familiar.
“It’s full and complete and total trust,” Milbrett says of him as a coach, “because first and foremost, he was just an outstanding human being to you. And that’s how you build up a player, that’s how you build up a person—building that kind of relationship through trust.”
Sinc could have gone to any school in the country. By her 18th birthday, she had already scored 21 goals for Canada, and she’d gotten a stack of scholarship offers. But she didn’t want to go to the most successful program; she wanted the coach who cared about her. “He was the only coach I talked to who was actually interested in me as a person,” she wrote in 2012. “For people who have ever been recruited, this is very unique.”
Clive would rib Sinc about her shyness, and soon she’d start teasing him back. As they got to know each other, she started to come out of her shell and speak up, where she’d usually stayed on the fringe when she was younger. “She toughened up a lot, coming to college,” Gant remembers. “You know, she learned to respect her voice. And she learned to communicate with teammates and coaches, and it really changed who she was as a person, I think.”
The Pilots went 16–3 Sinc’s freshman season and were eliminated in the College Cup semifinal by North Carolina. Sinc notched 23 goals, eight of them game winners. That spring, Clive called together “the Pilot soccer family, current and past players,” as Sinc wrote, and gave them the news: he’d been battling a rare form of prostate cancer for two years, after being diagnosed while coaching the US men at the 2000 Olympics. He intended to keep coaching, but nobody knew how much time he had left.
2002
The Pilots faithful, a few hundred strong in purple and white, greeted the team at the airport. They’d brought their drums along and chanted so loud the TSA agents couldn’t hear the metal detectors.
Photo by Darren Lloyd
The team had been victorious in Austin; after they’d gone down 0–1 early in the second half, Sinc had leveled the score in the 61st minute, then scored the sudden-death game winner in overtime. Several players described a feeling that divine intervention was at work during the tournament. Clive said the win was “like a ten-ton weight has been lifted off me” and vowed not to let the trophy out of his sight. Supposedly he slept with it next to him that night.
Clive passed away in August of 2003. That championship win was the last game he ever coached. His players kept his memory alive, and the Pilots won another in 2005.
The kids and families and queer women who cheered the team on from the Chiles Center, many of them, would go on to form the Rose City Riveters. They’d learned how to love soccer at UP, and they helped show the world what support for a women’s club could look like.
Clive left an impression on everyone he ever met, and changed the lives of countless people he never did meet. His legacy goes way beyond this story. But it’s hard to overstate what he did for women’s soccer. The Riveters wouldn’t be what they are without UP, the Thorns wouldn’t be what they are without the Riveters, and the NWSL wouldn’t be what it is without the Thorns. None of it would have happened without Clive.
Sinc, of course, went on to become a giant in the game, planted firmly in Portland since her college days. Her dog is named Charlie in Clive’s honor.
After retiring in 2011, Milbrett started coaching, a career that took her to Colorado and Florida. Now she’s back on the Bluff, coaching on a part-time basis.
Gant stayed on at FC Portland, where he still works today. When he ponders where Clive might have been now, he suspects he would have moved on from coaching and taken an administrative job in the game. It’s easy to imagine him as the Thorns GM, or a league commissioner.
“He loved coaching,” says Gant. “But it was about the game, too. It was about, how far can we take this game? And I remember when he was coaching the [2000] Olympic team, he felt bad because it was time away from his UP kids and time away from Portland and Clarena and all that. But he says ‘Ganty, the game—it’s a global game now. It’s everywhere. It’s unbelievable.’ And you know, he’d just been diagnosed with cancer and everything. And it got emotional at times, because when he started talking about it, he sort of said, ‘and I might miss it.’”
Darren Green is a junior at Franklin High School and plays for the boys’ soccer team, which won the 6A state championship in 2019. He wrote the following essay about making the team, winning the championship, and being a Black teenager in Portland.
It all started when I was 11 years old.
I was really confused on what I wanted to do with my future and hadn’t found my passion for anything. Fortunately though, while I was growing up, I realized I could be great at anything I put my mind to.
At this time, I was in 7th grade, and I was having a hard time at home. We didn’t have everything we needed as a family. Sometimes I wouldn’t have dinner because it would be the end of the month and food stamps would be low.
My troubles at home got in the way of school. It was hard staying focused in class when things at home weren’t going as planned. I had a lot of people in my life that wanted to help in a positive way, but I also had a lot of friends that were holding me back from being a good person and picking the right thing to do.
I kept finding myself in trouble, no matter how hard I tried to stay out of it. I would never pay attention and was always the class clown. Regardless of what happened, I always found myself in the principal’s office for one thing or another. I was suspended tons of times, which took away my motivation to even go to school every day. This really disappointed my mom, because she knew I was better than that. Eventually, I noticed that one of the only things that motivated me to go to school was soccer. I wasn’t on a team, but I got to play at recess and I loved it.
As my 8th grade year started, I was still going through the same family and school hardships, but I had met new friends. I also had the support of my mentor, Justin, who I met through Friends of the Children when I was in the 3rd grade. Justin is a really big positive influence and role model for me. He led me to God, which has had one of the biggest impacts on my life, helping me find my identity and purpose. Justin played that father figure for me. Whenever my mom couldn’t be there for me because of work, Justin would always be by my side. Justin and God both helped me be more motivated, and that’s when I began thinking more about what I wanted to do and what I wanted to be great at.
Unfortunately, change takes time. I didn’t grow up with very much positivity or people who influenced me in positive ways, so sometimes it was hard for me to be around the new friends I had made. I found it uncomfortable, because I wasn’t used to being surrounded by people who were not getting in trouble and who cared about school. Even though I had lots of motivation to be a good kid, I continued to always end up in the same place… The principal’s office.
The biggest life lesson I learned in 8th grade was that people come and go from our lives, but only a handful of them truly make a difference in our future.
Photo courtesy of Darren Green
The next year, freshman year of high school, was a fresh start. Unfortunately, I had a terrible start to high school. I didn’t know what to expect or what classes I wanted to take, and it was hard for me to adjust from being essentially locked down in middle school to having so much freedom in high school.
I spent about the first six months skipping school and not participating in anything. It was fun at first, but I also struggled internally because I knew I was better than this.
One day the soccer coach asked me, “Darren, why don’t you play soccer for us?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I hadn’t really thought about playing on an actual team before. Partway through the season, I ended up asking the coach if I could join the team, and he had told me, “Yes, you can come to tryouts.” I was excited, but also nervous, since I didn’t start the year with them.
Unfortunately, when I showed up for my tryout, I was told I couldn’t actually play or even try out because my grades weren’t good enough.
I went home and cried. I had gotten so excited about playing soccer for my school. I had been feeling motivated about high school for the first time. But I couldn’t play.
In the end, not being able to try out was a learning experience. It ended up being just what I needed to help me decide that I was passionate about soccer and wanted to do everything in my power to be able to play. I learned that no matter how good you are on the field, you will always need the grades in order to play high school sports. From this point forward, I knew that in order to play soccer, I needed to also be a good student.
I buckled down and worked really hard in school to make sure I would be able to play the following year. This decision was one of the best decisions I made that year. It was hard, but playing soccer was what I truly wanted.
Fast forward to sophomore year. The year I had been looking forward to because I knew I would be able to play soccer—if I kept working hard in the classroom.
The school year got off to a great start! I had passed all of my classes the previous semester, making me eligible to play, and I was looking forward to the soccer season. I started playing lots of soccer on my own to make sure I was ready for the tryouts, which were just around the corner.
The tryout wasn’t an easy process at all. It was seven days long. The first three days, I trained with the JV players because of my age. I understood why, but I believed I was good enough to make the varsity team.
I pushed myself every day. I was being more selfish than usual because my skill set was better than the other players I was playing with, and it showed. Then the coach brought me over and told me to go train with varsity. I knew it was up from here. And I was right—thanks to my hard work, I exceeded my goal and made the varsity team. Not only did I make the team, but I earned the right to play the position I wanted—attacking center mid—and I was going to be a starter!
As the season started, we were definitely the underdogs—my school, Franklin, had never had a strong soccer program—but we kept figuring out ways to win. Our coaches helped us keep a positive mindset, and we went into every game believing that we could beat whoever we were playing. As the season progressed and we kept winning, our confidence grew and I learned more about what I was capable of doing on the field.
We ended up having a great season! Beating our biggest rivals—Cleveland and Lincoln, both of which were whiter and wealthier schools—were big turning points for us. Doing so was not easy at all. We had skilled players, but we had a lot to overcome mentally. Our team didn’t have experience winning in this way; we had never played in front of big crowds. We needed to believe in our abilities in order to reach our dream of reaching the playoffs.
We went on to win the league. It was the first time in decades Franklin had done so.
Photo courtesy of Darren Green
Then the playoffs came. We were seeded high, so we started off playing teams that had worse records than us. Our team was happy to be in the position we were in. We came out strong, won our first three games, and ended up making it to the state finals! This was the first time in 56 years that the Franklin men’s soccer team had the chance to win a state championship.
With every win, our belief in what we were capable of grew, and my understanding of what I could contribute as a player grew as well.
The day of the state championship: lots of adrenaline and lots of excitement. On the way over to Hillsboro Stadium to play Summit, everyone is super hyped. Some people are nervous, but I’m not. It feels like the whole school is behind us. They even paid for three busloads of students to come cheer us on.
We have a great start and get a 1–0 lead within the first 10 minutes, which we hold for most of the game. Then, in the last 10 minutes of the second half, Summit equalizes. We regather as a team and put some motivation into one another. We were in the same position in the semifinals against Cleveland—they equalized in the last four minutes of regular time—so we know we can come out on top if we keep a positive mindset. We go into overtime, with the fans chanting like crazy.
With two minutes left, our goalkeeper, Gael Salas-Lara, has a goal kick and sends it straight to me. I chest it down and play it to our right mid, who sends it into the box. Andrew Reed, our left winger, finds the end of it and scores to put us up 2–1. Finally, the whistle blows.
We did it! We won the 2019 Oregon State Championship! It was hard on so many levels, but we got the job done. When I think back on what we accomplished, I think it is one of the best things that I have been able to experience. And it helped me to become more clear about what I wanted to do with my life.
The biggest thing I learned from my sophomore year was, no matter how hard times get, there is always a way.
And then COVID-19 hit.
Going into my junior year, I knew that I wanted to continue playing soccer. I had a new goal: I wanted to play soccer at a Division 1 college. This meant I needed to get into better shape, train to improve my skills, and raise my GPA, which was still low from my freshman year when I skipped so many classes and earned so many Fs. I was focused and ready to do anything I needed to do to reach my goal.
COVID-19 brought many challenges to my life, but also made a lot of things easy for me. It is hard not being able to just hang out with my friends whenever I want to. Over time, it’s gotten a lot easier and I have adjusted. A lot of tournaments where I would have had a chance to showcase my talents for coaches from across the country were cancelled because of COVID. The good thing about COVID, however, is that it has made it a lot easier for me when it comes to school. I like doing online school from home. I have a lot more time to do my assignments, and I can do it on my schedule. I also have more time to train, which has been really helpful.
Image courtesy of Darren Green
Of course, COVID-19 wasn’t the only challenge 2020 brought. It was also a year of police brutality and protests.
I am a Black teenager. Sometimes it can be hard being a black teenager in Portland, Oregon which is a mostly white city. Sometimes I get treated differently just because of my race, which is frustrating and really unfair. Sometimes I get scared around police officers, and that should never happen. Police are supposed to be here to protect us. I should not be afraid of them. I never want that time to come where my life is in danger because of my race.
I just want white people to at least care about how we are being treated and do the best they can to show empathy in some way. A lot of Black lives have been taken for no reason at all. No one deserves to have their life threatened just because of the color of their skin.
A bunch of great protests happened over the summer, which is hopeful. Through the protests, a lot has been recognized about the need to call out racism in our country. Even though we are not where we want to be as a Black community, if stuff like protests and teachers teaching more about racism continues to happen, things like police brutality and people thinking badly about Black people will get better.
Through it all, I’ve stayed focused on my goals of earning a scholarship to play Division 1 soccer, and then becoming a professional.
Soccer has been an outlet for me. It has brought many great things to my life and has helped me surround myself with positive people that want to see me be successful. As I continue to work hard, I know a lot of doors will open and I will be in the position that I want to be in within the next few years. I hope that I can do this for the rest of my life, or at least until I retire from being a professional soccer player.
Life can be really difficult. We all have our own challenges and struggles. I am working hard, setting goals for myself, and having my faith in God to help me along the way.
Disclosure: Jennifer Ingraham, a 107ist board member, also serves as a copy editor for Rose City Review. She was not involved in the creation of this piece in any way.
Last summer, a number of Portland soccer fans came forward about their experiences with the 107ist, the organization that coordinates both the Timbers Army and Rose City Riveters. The first was Milo Reed, a Black capo in the TA. In a Medium post, Reed wrote that the 107ist board had repeatedly ignored and spoken over him when he tried to weigh in on a discussion about a blog post some on social media were calling racist.
Following Reed’s post, two members of the 107ist talked with Rose City Review about their own experiences in the TA and RCR. We also spoke with the founders of Black Fires, a Black supporters group in Chicago. All four echoed Reed’s sentiment: self-proclaimed inclusivity and anti-racism isn’t enough if BIPOC don’t feel like their presence and voices are valued.
Fans called on the 107ist board to actively listen to and engage with fans of color, make the structure of the organization more accessible, and for board members to step down and create space for BIPOC to take their place. One person specifically said the board needed at least three BIPOC members before she believed they could move forward. Then-newly named 107ist President Gabby Rosas predicted that those resignations would take place in December 2020, in accordance with the regular 107ist election cycle.
Over the summer, the 107ist also formed a BIPOC committee to provide independent oversight of the 107ist and evaluate why fans of color had the experiences they did. However, all of the BIPOC committee members are also 107ist members—a requirement for any committee position within the organization.
“We were not going to solve the board’s diversity and race problem,” the committee said via email, “but we could, out of love for the community we were part of, help point out areas they needed to address change and to call them out when they failed to meet expectations.”
Since the BIPOC committee formed, it has held regular meetings to discuss race in the TA and the police presence in Providence Park, advocate for better representation within the 107ist board and committees, and create better pathways for the general community to get involved with the 107ist.
When election season came around, three of the current board members—including Rosas—were reelected to three-year terms.
“We’re seeing that as a big red flag,” Rosas said, “because we recognize that as an organization we need to be doing a better job of soliciting for new board members and making sure that everyone who’s interested knows enough about what it is to be on the board and what the organization needs and can feel comfortable running.”
The one new member, who is white, filled the seat of Ray Terrill, who had stepped down over the summer and asked that his position be filled by a person of color.
The 107ist also created a new election pathway that allows for members of the RCR and TA steering committee to each nominate a representative to a one-year term on the board and the BIPOC committee to select two candidates. The TA steering committee and BIPOC committee took advantage of this new pathway and appointed three representatives in total.
“We’re very focused on making sure that we’re listening first,” Rosas said. “And listening to not only our new board members, the two that were nominated by the BIPOC committee, but also that committee as a whole.”
However, Rosas said there’s a learning curve for new members, which makes it hard for new representatives to make an immediate impact. The board is looking to make that transition easier for members who are elected to one-year terms. Rosas specifically pointed to ensuring that one-year representatives have information early and said the board is making an active effort to prioritize those members’ central goals. “It’s creating a sense of urgency that I think we needed,” she said.
The board is also trying to lighten its workloadby allocating tasks to its various committees—something that will allow members to spend less time on paperwork and more time on the initiatives they want to carry out—and expanding overall committee membership. Rosas said she hopes this will make board positions more accessible to prospective members, since up to 12 hours of work per week is a lot to ask of a volunteer position.
Rosas said breaking down those barriers and building out all the 107ist committees to encompass a wider range of ages, backgrounds, religions, and cultures can also help inform 107ist practices. “As we diversify all of our committees, we’re able to better understand who we’re representing,” she said.
The BIPOC committee also pointed to the time commitment as a barrier to soliciting engagement. “BIPOC are already carrying the burden of this in our daily personal lives,” it said, in the form of explaining racial bias or navigating systemic racism within work, school, or community spaces.
“We are volunteering our time and knowledge to ensure the 107ist is a more inclusive organization where all members’ voices are heard and respected,” the committee said.
The BIPOC committee said COVID-19 also presents a barrier to outreach; the 107ist, TA, and RCR are primarily united by a love for Portland professional soccer, which makes engagement more difficult when everything is virtual. On top of that, many members generally have less free time, as they’re prioritizing safety and job security during the pandemic.
Still, the committee has created a pathway to anonymously present member grievances to the board by acting as a mediating body. Rosas said the 107ist is getting different feedback now that the BIPOC committee exists, although neither she nor the committee wanted to expand on the specifics of these complaints due to privacy concerns.
The BIPOC committee is also working to create a more formalized grievance process and engage with members. Due to the volunteer nature of 107ist positions, the committee said everything moves a little slower than a regular, paid workplace, but it expects to have more updates later in the year.
When asked about how it is dividing its focus between individual grievances, structural issues, and fostering pathways for representation within the 107ist, the BIPOC committee said it was “an ongoing discussion” and that more information would be available at a later date.
Rosas said trying to enact change while the BIPOC committee is still working to establish itself has added another layer of difficulty to enacting change within the 107ist. “I think what some people were expecting—and some people on the board were expecting—was that the BIPOC committee would just tell us what to do,” she said.
To Rosas, it’s been a balance of ensuring the 107ist is soliciting feedback from those outside the board, including other organizations, and taking responsibility to act on its own. The board recognizes that the autonomy of its position comes with responsibility. “We can’t wait for the BIPOC community, we can’t wait for any underrepresented community to come up with the words to tell us, ‘We’re not represented’,” she said. “We as a board, we as a leadership group have to figure out how we can represent our members without them telling us.”
Currently, the board is focusing on its annual general meeting for members—to be held at the end of February or early March. Rosas said that’s when the 107ist will share more detailed plans for its 2021 initiatives.
“We are not dropping any of our focus from last year,” she said, “but increasing the ways we want to make meaningful impact with our members and in our communities.”
The NWSL held its first-ever virtual college draft last Wednesday evening. Like so much of modern life, it was confusing and tiring. For one thing, constant time-outs made it an excruciatingly slow-moving event, with the first round taking almost a full two hours to wrap up. More importantly, the whole thing was shrouded in uncertainty after the pandemic forced the league and the NCAA to hammer out some new rules.
First, seniors taken in the draft are allowed to choose whether to play in the NCAA’s upcoming spring season and report to their NWSL teams afterward, or forgo their final year of eligibility and go straight to the pros. Second, all NCAA seniors were eligible for selection in the draft, whether they declared for it or not.
While that uncertainty loomed large, and in some cases may have forced teams to rethink their plans, Mark Parsons said during the draft that it didn’t significantly impact the Thorns’ preparations. “We’d done more homework than we ever have” leading into the draft, he said. “We had done that homework because we felt we could improve on last year—there was one or two players we missed [in last year’s draft class].” The coaching staff put together profiles of 100 players and spoke to 67 ahead of the draft, assisted by college coaches who helped the club gauge whether players would be a good fit for Portland, on and off the field. After all that legwork, the rule change was almost incidental.
Unlike last year’s draft where the Thorns nabbed Sophia Smith, the team didn’t make any splashy big-name signings who will significantly change the team. Still, they did take the rights to four high-quality players who will provide depth in areas the Thorns need it, especially with the Olympics looming this summer.
There was, however, some behind-the-scenes drama when it came to Portland’s first pick, Yazmeen Ryan, who they took sixth in the first round. The Thorns went into the draft with the seventh overall pick, but after Racing Louisvilleselected Emma Ekicwith the fifth pick, there was a long time-out, which ended with the announcement that the Chicago Red Stars had traded their number six pick to Portland in exchange for Portland’s seventh and 32nd picks and a 2021 international slot.
Parsons later explained that Portland had tried to trade up for the fourth overall pick in order to take Ryan, the Thorns’ top target, early on. However, it didn’t pan out because Kansas City offered Sky Blue $175,000 in allocation money for the same spot. “And then it was panic time,” Parsons said.
Although they knew Chicago wasn’t planning to take Ryan, the Thorns were concerned Rory Dames might trade that pick to a team who was interested in her. “We assured [Dames] the player he wants would be available, we just can’t have you trading to anywhere else and lose the opportunity to bring Yazmeen to Portland,” explained Parsons.
They were intent on Ryan for good reason, as she’s a player Parsons believes could contribute to the Thorns right now. She’s an attacking midfielder who looks both to score with late runs into the box and to feed her teammates with well-timed through balls. She could be a real asset in that role during the summer Olympics, when Portland will lose Christine Sinclair, Crystal Dunn, Lindsey Horan, and likely Sophia Smith. Ryan has also taken penalties and set pieces for TCU.
Portland’s next selection, Sam Coffey, is a midfielder out of Penn State who’s comfortable in a box-to-box role. She’s good both on and off the ball, has excellent vision, and can dictate the course of a game. “I think Sam Coffey could play for us right now,” said Parsons, “but she could also keep growing, keep improving.”
Amirah Ali, who Portland took 22nd overall, looks like a somewhat longer-term prospect. She’s a forward who, in Parsons’s words, “receives the ball under pressure back to goal, can twist and turn, can run at people, can finish. She can impact now,” he continues, “but I do think there’s going to be a journey for her […] her character is key. I feel she can come in and learn from some of the best players in the world around her, and I think she can learn from this coaching staff.”
Finally, Hannah Betfort is a converted forward from Wake Forest who’s played at both outside back and center back. She’s a leader on her college squad, serving as captain since 2019. She has strong passing and tackling numbers and also contributes offensively—notably tallying seven assists since moving to defense. Betfort, too, looks like a longer-term prospect, as Portland’s defense is already piled high.
With this year’s eligibility extension, how many of these players will report straight to preseason, and how many will want to play their senior college season in the spring? Players don’t have to announce their decision until the 22nd, so at this point, we don’t know. However, Parsons did tell the media that not all the draftees will be in Portland for the start of preseason. In particular, he hinted that Coffey wants to play her last college season, saying she’d been “terrorizing everyone” this fall and “she’ll want to do that in the NCAA tournament as well, fingers crossed.”
The bottom line, though, is this: “We know what their current plans are before we pick them, and we’ll respect that and wait for that phone call.”
So where does this leave the Thorns’ roster, and how will they line up? Trying to guess is a fool’s errand (read: I’m bad at it), but here are two possibilities we think are plausible. The first option is to keep the diamond and use Dunn and Smith up top. If Sinc isn’t available, either Dunn or Ryan could slot in at the No. 10.
Graphic by Nikita Taparia; contract info courtesy of Jen Cooper
Another possibility, given Portland’s stack of defenders, is something like the 5-3-2 the Thorns used for most of 2017.
Graphic by Nikita Taparia; contract info courtesy of Jen Cooper
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