I’m a huge fan of San Diego FC. Love what I’m seeing — not just on the field, but in the stands. And while the majority of my career was spent covering other sports for The San Diego Union and Union-Tribune, I have ties to professional soccer that few here can match. I covered each of San Diego’s first three outdoor professional soccer teams that came and went — the Toros of 1968, the Jaws of 1976 and the Sockers of 1978-84. All were members of the bygone North American Soccer League. One thing about the three previous attempts to make soccer work in San Diego: It was never dull. The original impetus for pro soccer in America began with the 1966 World Cup. England defeated West Germany in the championship game — a match that was televised in the United States to a much larger audience than expected. American promoters took that as a signal that soccer would fly in the U.S. Instead of starting small, two rival U.S. leagues were launched for 1967 — the NASL and the National Professional Soccer League. One year later, there was one … with a problem. There were two teams in Los Angeles. The solution: Move the NPSL Toros to San Diego. Days after the Toros landed in San Diego, Union executive sports editor Bob Williams approached me about covering the team. His reasoning: No one else on the staff wanted the job. Things were strange from that start. Just after the season began, the English-structured Toros were sold to Mexican media mogul and Club America leader Emilio Azcarraga Milmo, who immediately put his stamp on the Toros. He sent Angel Papadopolus to be co-head coach of the Toros alongside George Curtis. He also dispatched goalkeepers Ataulfo Sanchez and Humberto Arrieta to San Diego along with two other players. Somehow, it worked. Behind NASL scoring champion Cirilio “Pepe” Fernandez (29 goals), aging Brazilian superstar Vava (the “Pele before Pele”) and Sanchez, the Balboa Stadium-based Toros won their division with an 18-8-6 record before losing to Atlanta in the NASL championship series. One of the best memories — and top opening line — of my career came from the final game of the regular season in Los Angeles, which had already seen most of their foreign players depart. There were fewer than a thousand fans in the stands during an oppressive September heat wave. The temperature was in triple digits. Because the Toros had missed a paycheck the previous week, San Diego players voted before the game not to take a shot. Then, around the 80th minute, as the thermometer hit 105 degrees, Toros players realized a scoreless tie would result in a 30-minute overtime in sweltering conditions. They talked amongst each other on the field, set up a play off a free kick and scored the game’s only goal on their only shot. My story began, “Scoring at will …” Just after the season ended, Azcarraga announced the Toros would return in 1969. Days later, however, the entire western portion of the NASL folded. Adios, Toros. The NASL spent a decade repeating its mantra before totally collapsing: “Soccer will become the No. 1 spectator sport in America when the kids playing youth soccer grow up to become adult ticket buyers.” The 1976 return of the NASL was doomed from the start. The Jaws — named after the movie — were a terrible organization. Former college baseball coach Paul Deese was the general manager. The season opened with only one forward on an incomplete roster. Most of the fans attending home games at Aztec Bowl at San Diego State were comped. The only highlight of the season came on March 24, when the New York Cosmos and Pele drew 18,128 for a 1-1 preseason match that was moved to Balboa Stadium to hold the size of the crowd. Even before the season ended, it was announced the Jaws were moving to Las Vegas. I can’t remember anyone lamenting their passing. But wait! The franchise returned in 1978. But it was reorganized, rebuilt and renamed the Sockers. The Sockers had a 114-96 record over seven outdoor seasons at San Diego Stadium before the NASL again collapsed. They reached the playoffs six times — losing three times in the conference championship game and three times in the semifinals. The Sockers didn’t die like their predecessors. They moved indoors. Under coach Ron Newman — who rewrote the strategy of how to play the indoor game — the Sockers won 10 of 11 national indoor championships from 1981-82 to 1991-92. But the outdoor Sockers were an eclectic mix — starting with original head coach Hubert Vogelsinger. It was Vogelsinger who uttered: “English soccer is not worth the time I don’t spend watching it” when asked about the difference between the English and German style of play he favored. Vogelsinger had a unique style. When NASL players tried to unionize, Vogelsinger threatened to send them packing to their native lands. Several seasons later, he had players sign a letter having them taking full responsibility for a slow start to the season. Almost every foreign Sockers player had a unique story about how he got to the United States. Many had escaped from Soviet Union bloc countries. One Socker reached the west after announcing and planning a fake wedding to a deceased woman, using the ploy to gain permission to make an international trip … from which he defected. All-star defender Martin Donnelly, a sympathizer of the Irish Republican Army, was accompanied by the FBI when Queen Elizabeth was visiting San Diego. It went on and on. The Sockers had international talents. Striker Hugo Sanchez and midfielder Leonardo Cuellar played for the Mexican National Team. Volkmar Gross was once rated the top goalkeeper in Germany. Manu Sanon was known as the “Haitian Sensation.” That is but a few. But it was indomitable and irreverent Juli Veee who became the poster child for the flamboyant Sockers — as well as, perhaps, the greatest indoor player ever. Once, standing atop a table in the Sockers’ locker room during a championship celebration, Veee screamed out: “We have won this championship despite our coach.” When everyone laughed, Veee silenced the group and shouted: “No, I mean it.”