When Major League Soccer kicked off for the first time back in 1996, European football’s Ultras culture was just about winding down. Of course, Ultras still exist to this day, but the height of football’s sometimes violent, always notorious, counterculture came in the 1980s when English and Italian fans earned a toxic reputation. As in many things, though, MLS has spent the past few years catching up.
The game in North America has fostered a fan culture of its own. You can see it in the fanbases of the Portland Timbers, Seattle Sounders, Orlando City, Atlanta United, LAFC and more, but there are loud and proud pure Ultras groups too. Groups like Inebriatti in Canada, who last month were banned by Toronto FC for causing mayhem at a game in Ottawa. They lit smoke bombs and tossed flares on to the pitch while wearing masks, alarming other fans in the stadium. They won’t be at another Toronto FC game any time soon.
Inebriatti aren’t the only Ultras group to have been banned by the team they follow, with the Garden State Ultras’ recognition as an official supporters group of the New York Red Bulls revoked earlier this year following numerous complaints from other fans, stadium employees and even police. Sector Latino, a Chicago Fire Ultras group, were also kicked out of their seats in June.
Ultras culture in MLS persists, though. But why? What drives so many to align themselves with a way of fandom that is commonly seen as a vestige of a bygone age? What’s really behind this rise of Ultras culture in MLS?
Some believe it’s down to perceptions, that to be viewed as authentic, whatever that truly means, they must adopt the most hardcore aspects of European and South American fandom. This, it seems, is what leads so many to Ultras culture. And to violence, the most lamentable aspect of Ultras culture. Hooliganism is frowned upon by the majority, but to the minority it is synonymous with football and a symbol of true fandom.
But in looking for authenticity, some MLS Ultras oddly come across as plastic. “That Ultras behaviour has slowly penetrated the sporting landscape here, but I wouldn’t call them real Ultras in any way,” says Ben Glidden of The Third Rail, an officially recognised New York City FC supporters’ group. “They’re really just seeking attention. In their minds, if you don’t have ‘Ultras’ at your club, then you’re not a real club. It’s ridiculous.”
The Fiver: sign up and get our daily football email.
The Third Rail might not class themselves as Ultras, but NYC FC has witnessed some Ultras moments over their short history as a club. In 2017, for instance, some fans ripped seats from Orlando City Stadium during a season opener, with arrests also made for fighting in the streets around the ground that same year.
Then there was the brawling that occurred between NYC FC fans and Red Bulls fans before a Hudson River Derby in 2015, when a pre-match melee ensued in a Newark bar. These scenes, and the mockney chants of “Who are ya?”, were widely derided as the work of wannabes posturing for the day. “You see that in other American sports all the time in parking lots after games, though,” says Glidden, casting his mind back to that particular scuffle. “That’s not Ultras.”
From the other side, though, a different story is told. Those who identity with the Ultras tag in North America paint a picture of a league leading an orchestrated drive to unjustly erase their brand of fandom from the stands. “If you look at everything right now… first us, then Sector Latino, now Inebriatti, it’s just going to keep going and going,” says the leader of the Garden State Ultras (GSU), who wished to remain nameless. “A lot of it I think comes from the league. They love to show the Timbers and the Sounders and LA [Galaxy] and now LAFC – teams who have nice fans and portray a family friendly environment. That’s nice if you’re into that, but people complain about flags being flown in the stadium. That’s how ridiculous it can get.”
Some groups, like the San Jose Ultras, are still in the good books of the clubs they follow. But even they can feel somewhat under the thumb. “MLS is very restrictive when it comes to support. It’s definitely not the best environment for any type of organic, natural support,” says the San Jose Ultras’ Dan Margarit, who grew up in Europe. “In my opinion, those groups being banned is a blessing in disguise for their members. They all have much more freedom to do what they want now, because there is no accountability.”
Ultras come with negative connotations. They are associated with violence, chaos and making stadiums a more intimidating place to be. That latter point might not be seen as a crime, given that all teams want to make their home stadiums a more difficult place for visiting teams to play, but MLS’s matchday experience is vastly different to the kind generally seen in Europe and South America. That’s maybe why Ultras’ presence at games is so jarring to some.
Echoing the sentiments of both Margarit and the leader of the GSU, MLS clubs themselves control the supporter scene in a way European and South American clubs don’t. In many cases, supporters groups are baked into the very existence of the clubs themselves – see the Sons of Ben and the Philadelphia Union. Back in 2013, when MLS tried to prevent fans from chanting abuse at games, the New York Red Bulls offered the three official supporters groups they had at the time $500 a game to keep things PG13. Two accepted that offer, but the GSU did not. They wanted to keep the edge that ultimately led to their exile.
It could be argued that the creation of Ultras groups are a rebellion against this controlled environment, explaining why MLS has dipped its toe into Ultras culture later than most other leagues around world soccer. MLS Ultras groups might not be political in the way many European Ultras groups are, but they are political in their stance against the league-dictated status quo.
Many Ultras ideas borrowed by MLS fans have improved the league’s culture. No league does tifos like MLS, for instance. MLS’s “safe standing” sections recall the way Ultras used to stand and sway as one living, breathing entity in European terraces decades ago. Orlando City even have safe pyrotechnics zones in their stadium.
“As long as MLS grows and attracts more fans, the supporter landscape is going to cover the whole spectrum,” says Austin Long of Atlanta United supporters group Terminus Legion. “You have casual fans who go to one or two games a year and that goes all the way to the Ultras who are there to pick a fight. Most of the groups are there in the middle. As the league grows, it’s just going to be part of it.”
That could be it. MLS now boasts an average attendance in line with many of Europe’s leagues (the league’s average attendance is higher than both France’s Ligue 1 and Netherlands’ Eredivisie) and with that popularity comes a variety and diversity in fandom. The question might not be whether MLS can do without Ultras, but whether their total banishment is even an option.
