Biking from Providence’s East Side to the Rhode Island Football Club’s new Centreville Bank Stadium in Pawtucket was a breeze on opening day, May 3. There was no need to wait for a bus or pay for parking. (I saw one stadium neighbor’s yard offering spots for a Fenway-esque $50.) The bike racks were limited, but I’d gotten there early.
In case you don’t know, the club’s “football” is the European name for what many Americans call “soccer.” This isn’t a farm unit for the New England Revolution, but a stand-alone professional club in the 24 team United Soccer League (USL). The RIFC drew crowds during its first season last year at Bryant University. And the new stadium was funded with taxpayer dollars that will add up to more than $130 million over the next 30 years.
Still, this was my first pro soccer game, and I was excited. The predicted rains had evaporated, and the sky was clear blue. A few tailgaters from Massachusetts and Connecticut were protecting their hamburgers from the wind-blown dust from newly strewn gravel. These folks were die-hard soccer fans, season ticket holders, eager to cheer the team.
While waiting to get inside, I spoke with some of the attendees.
“I grew up going to Pawtucket Red Sox games,” said an attorney from Providence. “It’s a little serendipitous to have this stadium open within a week or two of McCoy being demolished. A big part of it is having a team in town that you can back.”
Two hours before game time, the gates opened and a gumbo pot of people streamed inside, including families from South Kingstown, Central Falls, Smithfield and (a few) from Providence. A thunderous drum troupe sporting a La Barra Bahía Defiance 1636 logo banged past to set up a cheering section behind the southern goal. The fan club’s Portuguese name, combined with the year Rhode Island was founded, gives you a sense of the diverse appeal that soccer has.
Nearly everyone was either wearing or buying lots of RIFC tee shirts, scarves, foam fingers and hats. The rest were in line for $12-14 beer (two drink limit) or snacks. One booth sold lobster rolls for $36, while the Maven’s Deli’s booth had delicious smelling pastrami and corned beef sandwiches for $25-32.
At a nearby table, Victor, a Providence-based father, sat while his daughter ate chicken fingers. “It gives you a kind of European feel,” he said, of the stadium. “It’s close to the field. Not like Foxboro. You can get a nice view of what’s going on in the field.”
Just before the game began, out trotted the politicians and owners to collect applause and thank yous for their wheelings, dealings, and financial gambles with taxpayer dollars. After the national anthem and a two-helicopter “flyby” from the Rhode Island National Guard, the clock started.
It was both awesome and boring. I grew up playing soccer, but watching it at length was new. There were moments of excitement, and lulls as the ball passed from foot to head to foot and back. Live soccer is different from other “American” games. The clock never stops; even when injured players dramatically flop to the ground, hoping to draw a penalty for the opposition, time continues.
Last season, the RIFC were champions of the USL’s Eastern Conference, so hopes were high. But, by the end of the first half the score was Rhode Island 0, San Antonio FC 0, with relatively few shots on goal.
Matt Entrekin, a co-host of the Raising Anchor Podcast dedicated to the RIFC, told me that the RIFC had seven players on the injury roster, and was playing short-staffed.
Matt also suggested that baseball was about stats. Football was about the clock. But soccer is a game of skill and serendipity, and making the most of the openings.
During the second half, I found myself drawn to the interplay between the teams, the formations, the rushes and quick passes, the held breaths and cheers as the goalie makes a save.
At one point, two players simultaneously went up for a header and clonked skulls. At first I laughed at the comedy, but then revised my reaction. This wasn’t another dramatic fake. Both were RIFC club players, who dropped like rocks, and were eventually escorted off the field.
As the final minutes drew close, the game’s pace picked up. Now both teams seemed to want to win. More passes, more shots, corner kicks. Moans followed cheers, as shot after shot went wide or over the goal’s net.
Then, ten seconds before the end of the game, the sky turned black and buckets of Pawtucket rain pelted the fans and players. Some fled to cover. Others just absorbed the deluge.
The game continued during the downpour, because six injury minutes had been added to the clock.
Just before the final buzzer, a gorgeous rainbow appeared over the Seekonk.
Yes, the score was tied 0-0, but even soaking wet there wasn’t a disappointed face in the crowd.
For me, the game was transformative. I’d had a really nice time watching a professional level sporting event overlooking the Seekonk River. And it was close enough that I didn’t have to drive.
On my short bike ride out of Pawtucket, I passed a line of folk in soggy RIFC shirts and scarves walking back to their homes in Providence.
Was it worth the multiple millions in tax dollars? Probably not, but as long as it’s here, I’m going to take advantage.
“It isn’t McCoy,” one person called, “but it’s something.”
Mark Binder is an award-winning performance storyteller and the author of The Council of Wise Women, the Bed Time Story Book, and It Ate My Sister. More at markbinderbooks.com.
Tickets and info about the Rhode Island Football Club can be found at rhodeislandfc.com. The Centreville Bank is sponsoring a program for Rhode Island residents to purchase a limited number of tickets for $4.01 each.
