Yes, okay, fine, I'll admit it. I booed Freddie Ljungberg.

Not in the beginning, when he was announced in the lineup. Then I cheered, for all he'd given us in the one-and-a-half years he played. For the magical playoff run he instigated in our inaugural season.

But when the game started? Yes. I booed.

Sure, I know it's kind of immature. A bit disrespectful. Yet let's face it: When he dons the jersey of an opponent, he becomes the enemy. The barrier standing in the path of our road to The Playoffs. It is not in my best interest to wish him well. So I cheered his failures and booed his successes.

I cheered when Osvaldo Alonso swiped the ball from him. I was entertained when Fredy Montero succumbed to the lure of the cheap foul. And I laughed and jeered when Freddie protested to the refs for every call he disagreed with. (Seriously? Did he do this for our benefit, to create a kind of wry and cynical humor? Or is he simply incapable of not protesting?)

Yes, I booed. And I am not ashamed.

Don't take it to heart, Freddie. In the core of my Sounders-adoring heart, I still kind of love you. So please know that this is not personal.

Understand, Fredo, that it's strictly business.