The ruggedly simple and unofficially official black and white skull and crossbones logo of FC St. Pauli seems at home emblazoned on a black sweatshirt worn by a masked Ultra standing defiantly with outstretched arms above the anarchic sea of oversized flags and smoke bomb-induced haze in the South Stand at Millerntor-Stadion while AC/DC’s Hells Bells blares from the PA system. The image is a pure and perfect symbol of rebellion against racism, sexism, fascism, homophobia, capitalism, big football, big government, and everything in between. The very best creative director, stylist or photographer in the world would be hard pressed to create a lookbook image as powerful or authentic. It does perhaps then seem a bit ironic that may not be long before that same sweatshirt may find itself next to English-made brogues on a rack at a high end boutique among offerings from Norse Projects or Stussy Deluxe. Not that there is anything inherently wrong with the menswear industry or with those brands in particular, but like if Black Flag signed with a major label and politicked for radio play, the widely held perception of St. Pauli as a hardcore haven for leftist causes makes it an odd fit in a industry dependent on consumerism and often fleeting tastes and trends. Yet nonetheless, the new St. Pauli Streetcore line seems to be a very conscious effort by the club’s merchandising wing to enter into that world. While some may see the line as an attempt by the club to cash in on its international image, the commercialization of counterculture has become big business after all, to dismiss the effort as “selling out” would oversimplify the depth and history of the club.

At 8:45AM on a typically grey Thursday deep in the Pacific Northwest, a tan 1997 Toyota 4Runner arrives to pick up a passenger. Less than 36 hours later, the United States Men’s National Soccer Team will meet Costa Rica at Dick’s Sporting Goods Stadium in Commerce City, Colorado in Matchday 2 of the hexagonal round of CONCACAF World Cup qualifying – or The Hex. The loss in Matchday 1 to Honduras put the United States last in the table and the week prior saw anonymous quotes from US players criticizing the management of Jurgen Klinsmann. Even with eight games to play still, a home loss to Costa Rica would be catastrophic. We had to go to Denver and we had to drive – for the USMNT, for Jurgen, and for America. After a drive-thru McDonald’s breakfast – A number one with Hi-C – we set out on the United States Interstate System, embarking on a journey that stretched from a high mountain pass over the North Cascades, through the vast golden grassland of the Palouse, nicking the northeast corner of Oregon, across southern Idaho, swinging south into Salt Lake City, then scaling the Rockies, before heading out over the high plains of Wyoming until finally cutting south once again into Colorado and our ultimate destination. According to Google Maps, it would take 19 hours and 33 minutes. We could have flown but, as Herculez Gomez said, this is how you grow as a footballing nation.