If you were one of the 18,000 people on Sunday to pack Avaya Stadium, consider yourself lucky. You witnessed the end of a journey 40 years in the making. Like Israel wandering the desert, fans of the San Jose Earthquakes have wandered aimlessly for 40 years in search of our own Promised Land, our home. Many died during the journey, never able to lay their eyes on what transpired just a few short days ago. They could only imagine what we experienced.
During the journey, we sojourned through peaks and valleys. We lost our team in the ’80s, we found it in the ’90s. It was taken from us in ’06, it was returned to us in ’08. We won championships, we finished last. Despite the arduous road, we marched on. We found our strength in the hope of our future home despite the obstacles that often seemed insurmountable.
On Sunday, we entered into our Promised Land. The people flooded into Avaya Stadium and breathed life into a collection of steel girders and concrete. A building cried her first cries as we cheered on our team, as we exalted at our first goal, and as we celebrated our first win. Just as God breathed life into dust, Avaya Stadium, our home, received her breath of life from those of us who made the journey.
The fans young and old rejoiced. The legendary Krazy George was there to give his blessing and hand off that sacred torch of Earthquakes fandom from the 1970s to us assembled before him. We held up our scarves, a salute to our past and a promise for our future: to continue the loyalty he and his generation brought to our team, our Earthquakes. The march is over; our journey is complete.
As we left we marveled at her. A new era had just begun, and we witnessed its genesis. We went away excited, knowing that we will meet again soon and many more times. We had finally found our way home.
And now she sleeps, waiting for us to breathe life into her once more. Let us never forget the journey it took us to get home, and let us never take her for granted.