It only took one game to convert Lisa Webb from a Hilliard soccer mom into a hooligan. “I sat across the field and looked over at the supporters section and I said, ‘I want to sit there,’” she said.

That was eight years ago, before the Nordecke, the Columbus Crew’s now infamous supporters section – comprised of Crew Union, Hudson Street Hooligans and La Turbina – began collaboratively chanting, singing and raising ruckus.

And it was well before the city’s sporting landscape was forever altered by a growing group of drinking, dancing – sometimes swearing – and always-rowdy soccer fans.

Becoming True Crew

Even before the creation of the Nordecke (German for “North Corner”), Webb, 42, saw the potential. “I was hooked,” she said.

Four years after her first game, Webb became a Crew season ticket holder, along with her daughter, Meredith, who’s now 18.

The Webb family is now firmly entrenched in Section 140, Row 1. They haven’t missed a home game in three years, and travel to away games at least twice a year.

The all-out allegiance of supporters like the Webbs marks the latest notch in the evolutionary chart of the Midwest soccer fan. They are a perfect distillation of the way Major League Soccer and, more specifically, the Columbus Crew have begun marketing themselves to potential fans.

How to win fans and influence supporters

Columbus wasn’t, as it seemed, chomping at the bit to welcome one of the first teams to join Major League Soccer in 1996. After all, the team got its moniker after a public naming contest resulted in only one suggestion. But once the first season rolled around, the Crew had sold more than 10,000 season tickets, putting the team near the top of the league’s attendance figures.

The Crew continued (mostly) to lead or be near the leaders of MLS attendance until 2005, a.k.a. The Fall: a dark period in the team’s existence when they failed to make the playoffs and reached team lows for number of wins. It also, not coincidentally, coincided with the period of time when attendance figures began to drop.

Then, in a perfect storm of strategy, luck and, yes, winning, a new creature was born.

That creature was the Nordecke.

The Nordecke

Just before the 2008 season, a stage was constructed at the North End of the stadium, the place where the supporters groups typically stood.

This shift in the arrangement of the stadium pushed all three groups into a single section, thus creating Nordecke. Since its creation, the Crew’s regular season attendance has remained at around 15,000. But more important than the overall numbers has been the consistent shift in demographics from the soccer moms to the so-called hooligans.

“Without question, the numbers from a youth soccer perspective have always been so enticing, but the reality is that market hasn’t lived up to its expectations or potential,” said Crew GM Mark McCullers.

With a brand new super-section of rowdy fans, the Crew brass saw the potential to establish something different, something unique on the local sports scene. McCullers, who came to the Crew from another MLS original team, D.C. United, knew how important an organically grown supporters section could be to the team’s on- and off-field goals.

In D.C., the priority was to create an authentic soccer environment from day one, McCullers said.

“That was something I brought as a priority to our organization when I came to the [Crew],” he said. “It was something I thought had been lacking, frankly. In 2007, we were a .500 team at home and ... I said that is absolutely not good enough.”

He placed the blame squarely on Crew Stadium, frankly describing it as “too pleasant of a place to play.”

“I wanted that hostile environment racked up and for the players to feed off that,” he added.

With the club on its way to winning its first MLS Cup championship in 2008, McCullers now had a unique product to market to Columbus as a whole – not just moms, dads and youth club teams.

“It’s because of the environment: it’s because it’s unique, it’s high energy. That’s been very attractive to that young demographic,” he said. “We’re looking to be different, which is a key factor that’s different from 20 years ago when we were trying to Americanize the sport and be like the NBA or the NFL.”

Strength in numbers

The Crew’s successful fan base wasn’t all the front office’s doing, though. McCullers is quick to give credit to the three supporters groups in bringing about this change. Without their leadership, dedication and time commitment, the Nordecke would likely not be what it is today – if it would even still be around.

“You have to have guys willing to do the time and pay attention to finances and create a structure of sorts,” he said. “There are guys who have taken that leadership role, and I think that’s the key as to why we’ve seen them grow and seen their emergence in the stadium. Those guys spend a lot of time doing it, and without them it falls apart.”

It’s not a stretch to say that Crew Union, Hudson Street Hooligans and La Turbina have impacted the city’s sports landscape beyond the field and stadium.

Aside from the groups’ charitable work in the community, they are responsible for the opening of a growing supporters bar (see page 51) and the creation of a similar group for Columbus’ other professional sports team, the NHL’s Columbus Blue Jackets.

In January, the Arch City Army was created by a group of Hudson Street Hooligans who wanted to translate the impact HSH has had on the field to the ice rink.

Say hello to the Hooligans

The Hooligans started simply enough, with a mere iron-on t-shirt and a pre-game party in 2006.

That season, Grant Thurmond and some friends began tailgating at his house on Hudson Street, and over the season they began recruiting their friends to party with them.

“We didn’t like the atmosphere (of Crew Stadium),” said Blake Compton, one of the original HSH members. “There wasn’t one,” Thurmond chimed in.

The Hooligans take their name from their English counterparts, but unlike the supporters across the pond who use that phrase, Columbus’ HSH aren’t prone to violence or vandalism. The local gang liked the alliteration more than the connection to the soccer mobs in England. Still, the Hooligans are among the rowdiest of the three groups and as such tend to attract the younger, more college-aged crowd to their membership. It’s also the largest of the three groups, with paid memberships (about $20) last year coming in at more than 1,000 people.

Some of their popularity is due, no doubt, to the creation last summer of the Hudson Street Hooligans bar on Summit Street, which has become a popular sports bar for soccer, football, basketball and hockey fans in the Clintonville neighborhood.

The Crew Union, also known at times as the Crew Supporters Union, is the oldest of the three groups. At the end of the 2006 season, the group re-established itself as the Crew Union, and today its mailing list is 900 people strong, with paid membership around 250-300 people. The Union’s members are slightly older than the Hooligans, consisting mostly of young professionals.

Crew Union calls the Fourth Street Bar & Grill its home base, with members receiving 20 percent off drinks and 25 percent off food. This season, the group will still mostly tailgate before games, but extend the party to the bar, which is less than a mile from Crew Stadium.

Created in late 2006, La Turbina is the team’s mostly Latin-based supporters group, and the most musical, with members singing and playing drums and sometimes horn instruments.

A fourth group is also in the works. Calling themselves Yellow Nation Army, these fans are spandex-clad from head to toe. Created last year, the Yellow Nation Army is still small and not yet recognized by the club as a full-fledged supporters group. They’re in the process of securing that distinction though, said the group’s leaders General Juicer and Major Awesomeness.

“The goal isn’t necessarily to get people to dress up,” Major Awesomeness said. “We’d love it if there was a sea of yellow men; that’d be fantastic. But we know the concept doesn’t always carry over to everyone wanting to dress up with us. The goal is simply to get people to come to the games and to establish an environment that would be more fun.”

For Webb, “fun” is a relative term, especially when it comes to marching with her fellow supporters into the stadium of an opposing team.

“You’re in a hostile environment,” she said. “In Philly last year they had SWAT men with guns escort us to the stadium and they stayed with us in the stadium while we ate. In Chicago, they threw rocks at us. It’s just a soccer thing. People are very strong about their support. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Columbus ’til I die”

Former Crew goalkeeper Jon Busch can attest to the new rowdiness of Crew fans.He still considers Columbus his home, even though his reception at Crew Stadium since leaving the club for the Chicago Fire in 2006 hasn’t always been the warmest.

“It’s quite interesting for me,” he said. “I’ve always enjoyed playing there; it was the first place I ever played, so I have a warm place in my heart for Columbus. We still call it home.”

Despite working to “block out” fans’ chants and jeers toward him, Busch, who currently plays for the San Jose Earthquakes, admits he catches some of what is said and directed toward him.

“The fans are quite amusing because they get on me quite a bit, but after the game and in the off-season they tell me they miss me,” he said. “But it’s funny when you think about it because they’re the ones yelling at me and cursing at me and flipping me off.”

Such passionate commitment is what connects the Crew and its fans in way that surpasses the relationship with the larger pro leagues. One of the best parts about traveling to away games, Webb said, is seeing the players’ reactions upon entering the field.

“When we go away, we take a bus trip, (the players are) looking for us, they’re waving at us,” she said. “In New York last year, a couple jumped the railing to get closer to us. To feel important to a team as a supporter makes you think, ‘Hey, we’re not just NFL fans, who the players don’t even recognize.’ It absolutely makes you feel like you’re important to them and they’re not just looking for that paycheck.”

For some supporters, following the Crew can be life-changing.

Take, for example, Ryan Kozlowski, 24, who moved to Columbus from Meadeville, Pennsylvania, a few years ago to attend law school. He chose to move to Ohio’s capital city primarily so he could attend as many Crew games as possible.

To say he was committed would be underselling it: attending games and making banners to support the team became so addicting that Kozlowski actually had to drop out of law school.

“I was too focused on making banners,” he laughed.

Having played soccer all his life, Kozlowski had always had an interest in the sport. But his Crew support made him realize that perhaps law school wasn’t the choice for him. After dropping out of law school, Kozlowski pursued his master’s degree in sports management and interned with the Dayton Dutch Lions, a minor league pro soccer team.

Then there’s Jon Sheckett, 28, of northwest Columbus, who would like nothing more than to kick the bucket at Crew Stadium. He attended the first ever Crew game in 1996, and at age 13 was the youngest member of the first-ever Crew supporters group, The Contractors. He even used a picture of himself and his fiancé, Elizabeth, at Crew Stadium on the “Save the Date” cards for their wedding.

“At first, I didn’t really know that I would get hooked on it,” he said. “[Now] I don’t miss a Crew game unless someone really important is married or buried. This is a sport that elicits passion from grown adults.”

For Sheckett, there are two unlikely role models he fashions his support after. One is an older lady whom he sees at every game.

“She looks like she’s going to keel over any moment,” he said. “She looks like she’s at least 100 years old. Her children bring her.”

Sheckett’s other role model of ultimate fandom is former stadium fixture Bob O’Shaughnessy, who passed away at the age of 62 in 2007.

According to his obituary, O’Shaughnessy found out that he had cancer and, upon his release from the hospital, carried an oxygen tank to attend his last Crew game.

“That one we sent around a lot,” Scheckett said. “Like, ‘Wow, that will be me.’”

For Sheckett and thousands in this city, the popular chant “Columbus ’til I die,” means more than just words; it’s a way of life.

Crew Glossary

“Massive” – Like most Crew lore and phrases, this one began and spread mostly on BigSoccer.com. In one word, Massive represents the Us vs. Them mentality Crew fans have adopted to deal with the belief the league, the team’s ownership, TV networks, your mom – basically everyone – is against the team.

“Nordecke” – This phrase also originated on BigSoccer.com, as suggested by Ryan Kozlowski, a Crew season ticket holder. Nordecke (pronounced Nor-deck-uh) is German for North Corner, the area of Crew Stadium that houses the team’s three supporters groups. It's said to represent the city’s German heritage, but Kozlowski said the word was the first one that sounded cool in the Google translator when he was looking for foreign phrases for “North Corner.”

“Columbus ‘Til I Die” – Perhaps the most popular of the many chants you’ll hear reverberate throughout Crew Stadium: Columbus ‘til I die!/Columbus ‘til I die!/I know I am, I swear I am/Columbus ‘til I die!

“Fighting Canaries” – A term applied to the Crew by Dispatch columnist Michael Arace in 2008. Many Crew fans don’t like the phrase all that much, but some still use it.

“Banana Kits” – This is the phrase used to describe the Crew's all yellow jerseys, the most distinctive in Major League Soccer. – Justin McIntosh

The Columbus Crew kick off their 16th season with their first home game March 26th against the New York Red Bulls. For more information, visit www.thecrew.com.