Tina Ettlin is hard to miss.

Part of it is her hair: the half-red, half-black bangs under a black and red crown of roses that’s been constant for the past six years. The other is that she’s on the stage at the forefront of the Portland Thorns supporters section in the north end of Providence Park, leading fans through chants, monitoring the crowd, and sneaking glances to her left to catch the action on the field—and to check for the occasional errant shot over the net that might find its way into the stands.
“Women’s sports deserve loudmouths,” she says. “They deserve the support, and that’s what keeps me coming back.”
Ettlin has been the lead capo—directing chants and organizing the supporters section—for the Rose City Riveters since the COVID-19 pandemic. To understand the intensity of her devotion, it helps to spend a match day with her.
Start early and wear comfortable shoes. I met up with Ettlin three hours before kickoff ahead of the Thorns’ match against the Bay on Oct. 4. But she’d been up since 7 am pacing: first around her house, then around town, and at last through the Axe & Rose, the Portland soccer supporters’ hangout kitty-corner from Providence Park. “There’s a lot more stuff going on today,” she says of her pregame anxiety, “but it’s the same for almost every match.”
It was a big game: The Portland Thorns were set to retire Canadian soccer legend Christine Sinclair’s jersey number and induct her into the Thorns’ Ring of Honor, displayed on the southeast side of Providence Park. The club was also getting set to host Bay FC (Ettlin had been helping the Bay supporters club the Bridge Brigade prior to meeting me at the Axe & Rose), with hopes of a win keeping the Thorns in position to host the first round of NWSL playoffs in November.
It didn’t help that the Axe & Rose was shorter on volunteer staffing than usual. The Portland Timbers were about to play the Seattle Sounders in Washington, and a good chunk of the 107ist’s game-day crew for the Timbers Army—the Riveters’ MLS counterparts—were up north to cheer their squad on against their Cascadia Rivals.
Despite their depleted numbers, the group in town was still lively. They had a new banned banner to display: a sign depicting the stages of water with the “ice” painted over as if it had been ripped off the page. It was the second banner the Thorns front office banned that protested U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. As we gathered to enter the stadium, Sato, a former capo and head of the Riveters’ game-day operations, called attention to the image—and to the “rat bastards” who had barred it from display in the stands.
For the Rose City Riveters game-day crew, match time starts well before the 7 pm kickoff. Ettlin and the rest of the volunteer crew, including fellow capos, drummers, brass players and a squad that helps to hang banners, made their way to the stadium for their 4:30 early entry—just in time to catch the baby goats, wearing Sinclair jerseys and soccer bandannas, penned outside the stadium for the day’s festivities.
As soon as we made it in, the setup began. Volunteers trekked to the top of section 207 to grab the flags and banners and drums they stored in the stadium, and Sato fetched the apparatus that releases pink smoke should the Thorns score. The Riveters had tied a keffiyeh to show support for Palestine around the smoke bucket. (Ettlin gets too warm to wear the extra layer when she’s capo’ing, so she tied the keffiyeh around the smoke bucket for visibility; it’s one of the first shots the cameras cut to in a Portland goal celebration.)
The banner-hanging proceeded swiftly, but the Riveters were clearly practiced by their 12th home game of the season.
Fans began filtering in past what Ettlin calls “the capo petting zoo,” a small fenced-off area between sections 107 and 207. Those volunteers who weren’t running back to the Axe & Rose to grab a couple of things—the early-entry Riveters recently negotiated permission to leave and reenter the stadium before a match, a privilege already granted to the Timbers Army—took time for a snack.
Among them was Alex Staller, who’s been a capo for the Thorns since 2016. Around bites of Pizzicato pepperoni pizza, Staller talks about his love for the Thorns and his desire to share that enthusiasm and support for the team by leading chants.
“I don’t care about how loud you are,” he says. “I care that you’re singing, because every voice counts.”
Before we walked into the stadium, Ettlin warned me of the danger of a wayward ball, especially when the Thorns are warming up. She wasn’t exaggerating.
Toward the end of warmups, midfielder Olivia Moultrie hit a powerful shot over the goal that bounced off the bar at the front of the stands, almost taking out both Ettlin and a volunteer hunched over, trying to stuff down a baked potato in the front row of the stadium.
After the Sinclair-honoring ceremony (and more than a few tears around the stadium), we were into the match.
Ettlin was yelling, Staller was jumping, the drums were keeping time, and everyone behind the Thorns’ goal was chanting. For Ettlin and her colleagues, that means multitasking: monitoring fans in the stands to ensure everyone felt safe and comfortable, watching her back for off-target shots flying toward the stands, calling for a moment of silence when a player from either team went down with an injury, and keeping the chants going at all other times.
“Stepping out on the field and knowing that the Rose City was behind me today was really helpful,” defender M.A. Vignola said after the match. Vignola made her Thorns debut against the Bay after being traded from Angel City FC earlier in the week.
“I’m really happy that the first game was in the stadium,” she said. “I could really feel the energy and the vibes.”
Although Ettlin is technically the one leading that energy, she’ll check in with Staller and fellow capo Sunday White if she needs help choosing the next song. The group has worked out hand signals (and funny faces) to communicate among themselves, with the drummers and horn players and with the capos in the nests to the left and right amid the noise. Ettlin’s favorite is to pantomime chopping her neck to signal for the Riveters’ “Guillotine” chant.
And then there are the songs for specific circumstances, like when Moultrie tucked away her free kick in the 69th minute to earn herself a brace and give the Thorns the 2–1 lead. The relief on Ettlin’s face was palpable as red smoke filled the air and the trumpets started on “One Goal Beyond”—the Riveters’ celebration song for when the Thorns earn or increase a lead.
“We haven’t been able to do ‘One Goal Beyond’ in a while,” Ettlin says. And to Moultrie: “Thank you, and I forgive you for almost taking my head off.”