These vagabond shoes - they are longing to stray...

I'll never forget it.

Not the cold or how good it felt cutting through my new jacket icing my muscles, sore from lifting and carrying awkward boxes all day.

Nor the frustration of things not coming together quickly enough and stressed, rushed, grumpy co-workers and interns.

But I certainly won't forget the first strains of singing and chanting, threatening to drown out the booming music that'd been my pulse all day.

The window-wall was open and I stepped closer, peering out above the soccer pitch.

Green. Just green and one solitary voice, growing louder and stronger: Onward Rose City! We ARE the Rose City!

The Timbers Army in full force, waving flags, greeting each other and singing. Just singing. Singing about home. Pride. Passion. Offseason must have been an eternity for them, and preseason marked their homecoming - a giant family reunion from the looks of it.

Goosebumps crept up my arms, over my shoulders, and eventually through my scalp and cheeks. They stayed for ninety minutes as I watched in (literal and figurative) frozen awe at these people and the 29 players that inspired them. They never stopped once. Not even when we scored an own goal - not even for the 80 million terrible calls the refs made. This was, and is, a group of people who sing for the joy of being alive and together. If you don't believe me, you will when you hear 16,000 people singing "You Are My Sunshine."

It was a draw, but I probably won't remember that in a few weeks.

I will remember going out to the line wrapping around the stadium for single-game tickets the next morning to interview the impassioned. I will remember telling them my story of how I adopted Portland just three months before.

"Welcome to Portland. It's clear Portland adopted you, too," said one.

"Welcome to our Timbers brotherhood. We're glad to have you," said so many others throughout the line.

I could be wrong, but we need more of this in the world.