He’s season ticket holder No.4. He’s never missed a home game. He comes out to training, rain or shine.
Since their birth 23 years ago, Mark Johnson has always been there to support his Colorado Rapids.
"It's not something everybody gets to do or wants to do for that matter," Johnson says, bundled up head-to-toe during a snowy training session. "But I love my soccer team and after 23 years of sneaking into a practice, it's fun."
The 67-year-old retired P.E. teacher and soccer coach is one of a few local soccer fans who consistently make the trip to Commerce City to simply watch a Rapids practice.
On a day like today, with a mixture of sleet and snow and low temperatures, Johnson brought all the essentials.
"Well, I have my chair, my coffee. I have six layers of jackets in the trunk, blankets, water=proof gear, gloves, hats," Johnson says, letting me examine the trunk-load of Rapids gear packed into the back of his car. "You come out here this often you absolutely have to have your car packed with stuff."
At his spot at the top of the hill, Johnson has a clear view of training. A coffee mug in his hands, the old soccer coach mutters commands under his breath.
Finish, finish! There ya go….
Over the last two decades, the players, coaches, and staff have come to accept him as one of their own.
“I think loyal is the only way you can describe him,” explains Dillon Serna, a Homegrown Player in his sixth season with the club. “No matter what we’re going through, not matter if we’re losing, you know, he’s always here and to have that kind of loyalty to the team is definitely special.”
That loyalty is just what they need when they’ve lost five straight and tensions are at an all-time high.
“I get upset when things don’t go right,” Johnson explains, keeping a watchful eye on the pitch. “But I never ever give up.”
When I ask him about the losing streak, he lets out a great, big laugh.
“When you go through a 13-game losing streak, talk to me,” he says, still chuckling to himself.
Just like a marriage, Johnson has been there through the good and the bad. He was there on April 21, 1996, when Marcelo Balboa scored the first goal in Rapids history and he was there in 2010 when the club brought home their first MLS Cup. He and 100 other fans waited for hours in the cold until the team bus to pull into Dick’s Sporting Goods Park. One of his favorite photos of all-time is of him and Pablo Mastroeni holding the Cup.
In those 23 years, Johnson has seen the team play on four different fields. He’s been there to see ten head coaches, interim head coaches, too. He’s watched 285 players who were lucky enough to wear the badge.
“Marcelo Balboa, Paul Bravo, Connor Casey, Omar Cummings, there’s so many.”
There have been 354 Rapids home-games in total and he’s been there for every minute. 31,860 minutes to be exact.
On game-day, his routine is always the same. He arrives two hours before kick-off and heads over to Eighteen 76, the restaurant and bar located in the south end of DSGP. He watches the Rapids pregame show before heading to their seats to watch the rest of warm-up. As the starters make their way to the center field, Johnson stands tall and proud, a team scarf stretched over his head.
By the time the first whistle blows, Johnson is locked in.
When things are going well, he’s smiling and clapping and giving out high-fives.
When there’s a bad foul, he holds up a home-made yellow/red card.
And when things aren’t going well, he reverts to his old coaching ways, yelling out directions to the players and not-so-nice words to the refs.
Tonight’s match ends much like the previous five as the Rapids fall, 3-2, to the Portland Timbers. Johnson leans over to his friends, discussing the costly mistakes on the backline and his desire to see a new formation until some key players are healthy again.
As fans pour out of the stadium, Johnson and his group stick around until it’s time to head back to Eighteen 76. The game might be over but the night is not.
“[For] A lot of people, it’s about wins or losses but part of it is about friendship. It’s about the people who play for us, the people you know here. The Rapids are about family.”
As midnight approaches, a security guard pokes his head around the corner. Last call was an hour ago and Johnson and his group are the only souls left.
“Be there first, be there last,” a proud Johnson says with a smile. He reaches for his bag and coat. It's finally time to go home.
