Nick Rimando - A Rival’s Perspective
I remember the moment I felt the most shame as a Sounders fan. It was a somewhat chilly evening in early November of 2012. The Sounders were playing the first leg of a high-stakes Western Conference Semifinal series against Real Salt Lake at CenturyLink Field. Rimando, as was all too common when Seattle played against RSL in the playoffs, was putting on a masterclass. Well into the second half, it seemed the Sounders were creating chance after chance only to be snuffed out by RSL’s calm leader between the posts.
In the 67th minute, a ball was played behind the RSL defense, and Seattle midfielder Christian Tiffert bore down on goal to get it. Rimando, ever aware of all dangers in the box, came out to meet it and the two players came together with a jarring crunch. Rimando laid on the ground in obvious pain, as the center ref called for the trainers.
As Rimando was treated on the field for a broken nose and cut that would ultimately need three stitches to close, boos from Sounders fans started to rain down from he stands, along with chants of “Let him die!” Rimando was even struck by an empty beer can or bottle tossed from the stands.
In the middle of that crowd, I looked at my wife and shook my head. We’ve never been a fan of booing players down on the pitch or the inevitable “Let him die!” chant no matter how obviously a player was diving or faking. But in this case, it was very clear that there was no gamesmanship or time-wasting. Replays on the screen clearly showed a brutal collision between the two players, and Rimando was clearly being treated very seriously by the training staff.
I turned to one of the more vociferous people in my section and said, “Why are you booing? He’s probably got a broken nose!”
He just looked at me with venom for daring to stand up for the opposition and said, “I don’t care, it’s fuckin’ Rimando!” I just shook my head again. (Interestingly, another fan in our section leaned over to me and thanked me for speaking up. He said he thought he was the only one.)
So what is it about Nick Rimando that would inspire such animosity? Part of the reason was that there was a real rivalry between Seattle and Salt Lake in those days. But it was usually a rivalry tinged with respect; a rivalry built on the field through intense regular season meetings and fierce playoff clashes.
By the time I knew about him, Rimando was already an established name in the league. Drafted all the way back in 2000 by the now defunct Miami Fusion, he spent some time in DC before being traded to RSL (and then to the Red Bulls, and then back to Salt Lake in a hilariously convoluted trade deal). And there in between the posts in Salt Lake, he established himself as one of the premier shot-stoppers in the league, becoming a finalist for Goalkeeper of the Year four years straight (an award he never won), and winning MLS Cup in 2009.
But to me, he was always that frustratingly talented player on a team that we always seemed to run into. Particularly in the first five or six years the Sounders were in the league, they were the team we always struggled against. While parity reigns in MLS, and every year it seems a new team’s fortunes rise or fall, from 2010 to 2015 the Western Conference belonged to Seattle, RSL, and the LA Galaxy. Every game with seeding on the line seemed to go through Rimando’s goal. Every playoff bracket saw the Claret and Cobalt lined up across from Rave Green.
The rivalry usually even had a more respectful tone than most MLS rivalries, the 2012 playoff match notwithstanding. Going into the 2011 playoff series, Sounders fan started the twitter campaign #ClassyRSLHate where they wished minor inconveniences on RSL fans. Moments like that created a fundamentally different tone than any other derby in the league. It was one that lacked the heat or animosity of other derbies. Yet no matter how respectful, the fact that it was a real rivalry was undeniable, and Nick Rimando was central to it.
But once again, MLS is parity, and the fortunes of RSL eventually fell. After the departure of Jason Kreis and Garth Lagerway, the team had trouble finding their footing. Even the fiery Mike Petke couldn’t bring the team to the heights they experienced in the early aughts. The core changed, and players moved on and retired. As the team tried to reestablish themselves in the league with young academy players, Nick Rimando remained the steady veteran figure in the back.
Finally, at the beginning of the 2019 season, Rimando announced that his 13th year in Salt Lake City would be his last. A rough beginning of the season and numerous off-field controversies culminating in the firing of Petke as coach didn’t stop Rimando from a solid season with 10 shutouts and only 35 goals allowed. The team even earned the highest playoff seed in five years.
After beating a scrappy Timbers team at home, RSL earned themselves a trip back to CenturyLink Field in the Conference Semifinals, the site of Rimando’s greatest victory: the 2009 MLS Cup.
I was surprised when I learned that this was the first time the Sounders and RSL faced each other in the postseason since 2012. The matchups between these teams seemed to come so frequently in the early parts of the decade that they felt inevitable. Yet as years went on without high-stakes matches, the rivalry between the two teams cooled significantly.
The match wasn’t without drama. RSL held a heavy possession advantage and kept the Sounders off the scoreboard for the first half. Rimando, at 40 years old, played like he was still in his mid 20’s. It wasn’t until the second half that he was finally beaten on a corner kick. While his team eventually lost, Rimando’s heroics kept a 2-0 defeat to the eventual MLS Cup champions from spiraling out of control. He even admitted to reporters that he’d been playing with a torn rotator cuff for months, but that didn’t stop him from finishing his career with his head held high, almost universally regarded as the greatest goalkeeper in league history.
He also finished his career in front of the same crowd that rained down boos and beer cans while he laid injured on the field. But this time, he wasn’t met with jeers. Instead, as Rimando walked over to a field reporter for a post-game interview, thousands of Seattle fans came down to the front of the stands to cheer and thank him for a wonderful career. I don’t know if it’s easier to be magnanimous when your team is celebrating a victory, but I can’t help but think that the years have given some perspective to a fanbase that once treated him with bitter animosity, and allowed us to recognize what a great treat it was to see a player of his talent play some of his best games against us. I know that I will always be proud and honored that I was there to witness the last game of a legend.
