Column: LAFC’s fervent fans show the honeymoon with their team isn’t over

The thing about marriage is, no matter how hot and heavy things start, eventually someone wakes up, looks at the other person and thinks “Oh, you again.” I’m told that’s the day the marriage actually begins.

The point is, when things are fresh and new, it’s easy to be excited. It’s what happens after things become familiar that determines if the relationship is built for the long haul.

Last season, LAFC home games were as exciting as a honeymoon, in large part because everything was new. From sold-out Banc of California Stadium, to the roster, to the drumming, dancing and singing that defined the boisterous, animated and standing-only 3252 fan section, there wasn’t anything that felt routine.

However, this is year two. We’ve seen the stadium. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the North End. We saw Will walk out with the bird on his arm.

With each passing game, the LAFC honeymoon inches closer to over. So what will keep fans from one day rolling over and saying, “Oh, you again?”

The answer: each other.

“It’s more than soccer, it’s community,” supporter Sal Reyes said. “We’re not out here trying to win for today or tomorrow. Winning is important, and when we lift the cup one day it will be amazing. But we’ve already won because we’ve created joy. … What we’re trying to do is build more than a fan base. It’s about legacy.”

That might sound grandiose, but 3252 was not an overnight success. Rather, it was four years in the making.

In 2014, when the area’s second Major League Soccer team was little more than a dream, Rich Orosco, LAFC’s Executive Vice President of Brand and Community, began building support around a simple motto: “Street by street.” He and other team executives began engaging local soccer organizations by knocking on doors one street at a time.

One of those roads was Colorado Boulevard in Old Town Pasadena. That’s where they found Lucky Baldwin Pub, Reyes and the rest of the Lucky Boys. They’ve been together now for nearly 20 years, and do things like meet at the pub at 4 a.m. to watch London-based Chelsea play in the English Premier League. Orosco didn’t try to convince what now are members of support clubs such as the Boys, or Armada or Black Army 1850 to invest in season tickets. Instead, he invited them to play indoor soccer, watch a match at a bar or just have a beer together.

He concentrated on building a community, not a fan base.

“A dynamo is like a self-creating energy source,” LAFC fan D’Arcy Conrique said at a recent game. “LAFC is its own dynamo in the city. I don’t know how much marketing they’re doing, but that street-to-street campaign has worked with everybody that you see around here. Everybody that’s here, they watch NFL, they watch NBA, they watch MLB, but they don’t tailgate at a Dodger game five hours before the game. We all love these teams, but not the same way as we love this.”

There might not be a way to quantify the love he’s referring to, but having witnessed Dodgers home games in back-to-back World Series, I can confirm that Chavez Ravine buzzes but there’s no drum circle in the parking lot. Let alone a circle that keeps playing even after the final whistle, regardless of the result.

The power of unrelenting support was one of many lessons early members of 3252 learned after traveling to Germany to see Borussia Dortmund’s South Bank, home of the iconic “Yellow Wall.” Accommodating nearly 25,000 people, it is the largest space in European soccer dedicated to standing fans — and it looks quite intimidating.

Orosco and company thought it would be a good idea to organize a trip so that LAFC supporters might see what was possible.

“The word they kept saying was ‘organic,’” Reyes recalled. “It has to be organic, otherwise it won’t last. LAFC can’t organize us. They can support us, but the only way this all lasts is by us spearheading it and investing in each other.”

LAFC fans will have to be careful that their support doesn’t go overboard, or take an unwanted turn. Twice last season,visiting teams were subjected to homophobic chants, including during a final playoff loss marred by fans who threw debris on the field, prompting a stoppage in play.

At LAFC’s home opener last Sunday, following the tradition of 3252 singing the national anthem, an enormous black and gold banner was unfurled nearly encompassing an entire section of the stadium. At the center was an image of the Grim Reaper.

Now, Dortmund’s wall is quite the visual, but having death staring at you while the roaring sound of drums fills the air can’t be comforting for visitors either. Whether you attended a home game last season or it was your first time at Banc, you couldn’t help but feel part of something bigger as the giant banner shimmied in the wind.

It was at that moment I knew this connection between fans and team had a real chance to last. Making the playoffs in its inaugural season was a tremendous success for the black and gold. But the unbridled passion of its legion of followers is the real story.

For all of the star power and championships built into the Galaxy’s rich history, the environment in Carson doesn’t come close to that of LAFC’s neophyte franchise.

That’s not throwing shade at the crosstown rival. That’s simply recognizing that in healthy marriages when someone rolls over and says “Oh, you again,” it’s followed by a grateful smile. The kind you find at the Banc.