It's 1am on the night that could have been, should have been for Toronto FC, but wasn't. Before I could write this I had to get home, thaw out, warm up, and then wonder how I was going to overcome the feeling of despair I felt at that loss, not for me but for the players and for the majority of the fans in the stadium. Heartbreak for Toronto FC would not be a far-fetched description. I wondered where to start, and the end seemed like a pretty good point. If Toronto FC had won I probably would have also started at the end, because a happy ending would have been so easy to describe.
The last kick of the game was followed instantly by the most deafening silence I have ever heard. It was intense how quickly it hit the stadium. As soon as the sound of the rustling of the net from Seattle's winning penalty hit our ears 95% of the people in the stadium realised it was over. After 120 minutes and a penalty shoot out Toronto FC would not be MLS champions. It wasn't a gradual dawning. It didn't go from cheers to subdued cheers to murmurs to moans and then silence. It went from a very loud crowd taunting the penalty taker, and cheering the home goalkeeper to nothing. In a instant. Did I say it already? I have never heard anything like it.
There was some noise. Right as the silence hit, the whole Seattle squad was screaming and the 1000 or so Seattle players were cheering. But those sounds didn't pierce the silence. They just exaggerated it.
It started with so much hope, and so much noise from the home support. And Toronto, as expected, came out on the attack. And they maintained that for most of the 120 minutes. The overall pattern was that Toronto attacked and Seattle looked to counter, apart from a spell towards the end of the second half. Even then Seattle couldn't muster a shot on target, or anywhere remotely near the target. Toronto thought they had won it in the second half of extra time when Altidore's slow, lobbed header was clawed out from partly inside the Seattle goal by the excellent Swiss, former TFC, Seattle goalkeeper Stefan Frei.
Sadly, it was gradually apparent that Sebastian Giovinco was not having one of his better days. He was not going to be the match winner, no magic from him today. He didn't even make it to the end and nobody in the stadium who understood what was going on could have been surprised at the substitution.
The best player on the pitch was Michael Bradley, the nullifier of many Seattle attacks and the creator of many of Toronto's best moments. But just to prove how cruel this, or any sport, can be his authoritative calmness deserted him when he took his penalty. Or maybe it was him being too calm that was his downfall, when he needed a to be a bit more wound up. The right balance of the two might not have been there as he pretty much passed the ball to Frei in the Seattle goal.
And that was that. It's no consolation for Toronto tonight if they were told this was their first final and they will be back. It was tonight that they wanted it. There will be other times, the team, the fans and the City hope.
As we all trudged away into the cold, cold, very cold night with the sound of the singing Seattle supporters dancing around in the crisp air, and the fireworks that seemed misplaced (what was there to celebrate) the only positive that lingered could be that all 36,045 of us witnessed a very significant football match in Canada. There haven't been many of those over the years. So, to paraphrase the cliche, football in this country was also the winner.
Toronto FC will have to wait, but thank you for the fun ride.
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