Pirates’ Away Daze Starts the New 2024 Rovers Campaign

Rovers’ 2024 campaign was meant to begin where last year’s League1 BC regular season dramatically ended, in Victoria against the Highlanders. Back in July, our men’s side had the lead with stoppage time approaching, needing a mere draw to top the table and, with that, earn another berth into the Canadian Championship. It didn’t happen. The Highlanders scored two quick, soul-crushing goals at the death and miraculously won 3-2, giving them a shot at a cup upset like our own over Valour FC in ’23. By the time that shot came around, however, the volunteer-run Victoria Highlanders were suddenly out of the picture, allegedly felled by the growing cost of professionalism as part of League1, just as play was set to begin again. For Rovers, instead of ending April with the start of the league, they stepped into May with a surprise CanChamp cup tilt. Instead of contesting a rematch against Highlanders in one competition, Rovers took their place in another. We wanted revenge against Victoria, but not like this. 

The match came midweek this time, so the roster of travelling Swanguardians was diminished by so-called “work” obligations. For those stuck back in the Lower Mainland, a screening was held, and a half dozen of us with “flexible schedules” stormed the Island. The sun shone as we met up to carpool over. You’d think getting a 2pm ferry for a 7pm match would provide plenty of time to pre-game, but traffic in and around the Victoria area is so bad, so terribly inefficient that we didn’t even have a chance to eat a proper meal prior to setting up in the stands.

We took possession of the rickety, temporary metal bleachers behind one net, which is where PFC’s Lake Side Buoys – who, once upon a time, were the Highlanders‘ Lake Side Buoys – oddly used to reside. Set-up was efficient with all hands on deck, leaving us some time to have quick pre-game drink and/or smoke with super Pacific supporter Mike and his band of Buoys out in the gravel parking lot, as we did last season. We gathered around the LSB’s purple- and Pride-themed beater van to talk footy, though this time on a more somber note; we collectively mourned the loss of the Highlanders, who’s absence allowed for our trip. Three loyal supporters of Victoria’s lost League1 team mingled with us, including a legendary chap named Jason, who’s known for backing his Highlanders in full regalia, plaid kilt and all. As supporters, we all want our respective clubs to avoid defeat on the pitch, but there is no greater loss in sport than of a team itself. We gathered around a black and gold Highlanders drum and poured one out for our fallen league mates. 

Back in the stadium, uncomfortably squinting through the sun in our eyes, we knew we could make life uncomfortable for the home side in turn. Our ranks were bolstered by the Highlanders supporters, who opted to join forces with us Swanguardians, each donning one of our red and white scarves; it was a lovely show of League1 unity in the face of a fully-professional football “Goliath.” The match was and remains a bit of a blur. Rovers, dressed in all-black, played in a fashion typical of an underdog road club; they ran a high press, focused on defending with all they had. You got the sense early on that, should things end in a shootout, Rovers would be just fine with that. Or, perhaps a quick-strike counterattack might develop against the run of play, as it often can when possession is imbalanced. Our star keeper, Justyn Sandhu, looked in great form, easily snagging any early chances by PFC, which bolstered our hopes. Hold strong in defence and we might just have a shot at our cup dreams coming true. 

As we had a limited number of supporters present on the day, each of us had our hands full with a job to do; three big flags required waving and a drum a beating. Chris, our de facto capo, was required to preserve his voice for an upcoming concert performance, and thus the rest of us made sure to pick up the vocal slack. We gave it our all for the full 90 and beyond, as did the players. It was a cagey affair full of tension – PFC kept pushing into Rovers’ end, testing Justyn, but our boys would not relent. The home keeper situated just in front of us, a fellow by the name of Melvin, was clearly struggling with the setting sun in his eyes, so we urged our Rovers to have a go at the net from any distance. No real windows presented themselves, however, as PFC defended their box comprehensively. By the final minutes of the half, we were content to enter the break all tied up at nil-nil, which, given PFC’s professional status, put the pressure squarely on them. 

The second half began with a scare. Rovers, now defending the net directly before us, were fortuitously bailed out by the woodwork; the hosts hit the post not once, but twice in the first few minutes after play resumed. PFC had such steady possession, Rovers’ first real opportunity of the second half didn’t come until in 70th via a corner, and that attack fizzled quickly. Five minutes later, however, lightning struck; Rovers took possession in the midfield, lobbed it forward, and, when a purple shirt bobbled the ball and failed to clear, our boys in black attacked. The two second half subs combined for a bit of magic; from number 18, Devin O’Hea, came an incisive pass forward to number 19, Michael Hennessy, who confidently popped the ball past Melvin the keeper amidst a swath of purple defenders – a finish as classy as a fine glass of cognac. Rovers converged at the corner flag, dogpiling on each other in celebration. Way on the other end of the pitch, our group of Swanguardians shook the janky bleachers beneath us. 1-0 to Rovers, holy shit. 

Could they do it again, could the semi-professional Rovers of League1 upset a CPL side for the second time in two years? By now you know the answer, but for 20 minutes, it really looked liked we would. Pacific, at a deficit and increasingly desperate, had us stressing in the stands. It was actually a good thing that all of our limited supporters on hand needed to keep busy with drumming and flag waving, as we would have been pulling our hair out otherwise. Rovers made it to the 90, and the swashbuckling Highlander Jason led some of the Swanguardians in singing, “I know you don’t believe us but we’re gonna win the Cup.” 

The fourth official called for six stupid minutes of extra time, for what I still don’t know. We killed that six minutes but play continued. Blow the damn whistle, we cried. The ref would not until PFC finally scored after a chaotic scramble in the Rovers’ box — at 97:13 on the clock… I felt all the life sucked out of me in that moment. My ears rang, shoulders sank. We were so. fucking. close. No time to wallow, though, straight to a shootout we go. Getting to pens was probably the goal initially, and we certainly would have taken it prior to the game, but given how close we came to winning in regulation, it now felt all the more panic inducing. Anything can happen in a shootout, for better and for worse.

Justyn made two amazing low, diving saves early on to give Rovers the edge, but a couple of uncharacteristic misses by stalwarts like Kyle Jones and Ivan Meija ended up being the difference. Now in the sudden death stage, PFC rippled the net and snatched the game away for good. Heartbreaking. I pulled my sunglasses out of my pocket for the first time since the sun set, in an attempt to hide my upset — I was in tears, not only because we got so close and lost in such a soul-sucking way, but also from looking on at the Rovers before me, so disappointed and forlorn on that plastic pitch full of rubber pebbles. This game burns sometimes. 

The supporter section takedown post game is always easier when you’ve won, but after a gutting loss like this, it felt like we were moving in slow motion. When you invest that much and get that close, losing sucks the life out of you like a vacuum. Security eventually came by to motion towards the door, signalling that they wanted us to get the hell out of there already, and we shuffled out to the lot. The only balm for our wounds available on a now-cold Wednesday night in Langford was the fluorescent glow of a fast food joint, under which we ate away our feelings in a daze before heading to our respective lodgings.

As with gameday take-down, getting up the morning following an unsettling loss is hard. Especially so on the road. You’ve got to trek all the way home without the natural energy that is a massive win, a force ten times stronger than any sort of caffeine. But, in the end, despite our wounds, a loss on the scoresheet is really of no consequence compared to the loss of a club itself. The Highlanders supporters that bolstered our ranks against PFC are now faced with a far gloomier dawn. We could shift our sights towards the weekend and the start of the 2024 League1 BC campaign for both our men’s and women’s teams. They could not.

With this dose of reality fresh in mind, a grey, rainy League1-opening matchday that following Sunday did not get us down. Nor did the 7-0 loss for our women’s side at the hands of the mighty Whitecaps women, a very skilled outfit at the top of their game. We had the shelter of Thunderbird Stadium, which Nautsa’mawt FC called home last season before leaving League1 BC as well. And we had our healthy, fully-operational team to support.

The point is that we get the privilege of following our club through thick and thin. When things turn for the worst, or when they don’t even get going in the first place, we’ll still be there supporting. We’ll have flags and drums and be in full voice. Sure, a big 4-1 win over the Caps men’s side felt great. Devon O’Hea, Matteo Polisi, and Gurman Sangha all scored in the first half. Massud Habibullah added some insurance in the second. It was awesome to let off some steam… I mean, smoke… and celebrate our first dub of 2024. But, the real win is that we’re an essential part of this self-fulfilling, grassroots supporter/club ecosystem that actually gets to exist in a modern, capitalist sports-entertainment landscape.

Our team needs us and we need them. We help each other to exist. This is where the real winning happens, and as long as we’re able to be here every gameday, cheering our Rovers on, we just can’t lose.