Hundreds of fans gathered in anticipation at the top of Section 108 at Providence Park Friday night as they waited for Sunday Renee White and Heidi Koenig White to walk down the aisle and become legally wed.

Friends and family sported rainbow scarfs that read, "Marry Me" and carried sunflowers high above their heads. About a dozen men wore little black dresses – in homage to the outfits the bridesmaids wore at Sunday and Heidi's first wedding ceremony in 2007, before gay marriage was legal in Oregon.

As they waited for Sunday and Heidi they sang, "I can't help falling in love with you."

Finally, twenty minutes before the Portland Timbers played Real Salt Lake to a scoreless draw in their final home game of the season, Timber Jim walked through the archway holding a bright sunflower in his hands.

Sunday, 40, and Heidi, 45, followed behind him beaming.

• • •

Sunday and Heidi first met in 2004 at a softball field at Green Lake Park in Seattle.

Sunday was putting on her cleats when Heidi first saw her. She had bright orange dreadlocks, the color of a traffic cone. Heidi couldn't even build up the nerve to start a conversation.

"She was drooling," Sunday joked.

"I couldn't even talk," Heidi said.

Heidi had grown up in Seattle and Sunday had moved up from Portland for school.

They were playing on opposing teams in a gay women's softball league. Sunday was a pitcher, and the first time their teams played, Heidi hit a ringing triple off her.

The two women didn't start dating until after the season when they both attended an end-of-season party at a gay bar called R Place.

Less than a year after they met, the couple decided to move down to Portland, where Sunday would be closer to her friends and family.

"It's all a tangled web of U-Hauls and butchy haircuts from there," Sunday said.

• • •

Sunday had always craved a fairy tale wedding, but when she realized she was attracted to women, it started to dawn on her that she might never celebrate the wedding she had envisioned.

"I wanted a pretty, pretty princess wedding," Sunday said. "I grew up with the idea that I could have that and then when I realized I wasn't into dudes, I realized that was never going to happen."

Sunday Renee White and Heidi Koenig White had a wedding ceremony in 2007, but, at the time, gay marriage was not legal in Oregon and their marriage wasn't legally recognized.

But in 2007, Sunday and Heidi decided to hold a wedding ceremony, even though they wouldn't be considered legally married in Oregon.

A friend offered to let the couple use the backyard of their home near Multnomah Village for the ceremony. Another offered to bring the cake. And another donated flowers.

On Sept. 15, Sunday applied her makeup and put on her flowing white wedding dress at a hotel. A friend drove her to the ceremony in a bright yellow 1932 Ford Roadster. Heidi was waiting for her in a red kilt.

The couple was so excited that they kissed before the person officiating the ceremony had a chance to say, "You can now kiss the bride."

It was the fairy tale wedding Sunday had always wanted, except, the marriage had no legal status.

• • •

A Portland Timbers flag hangs in the window of the home in Southwest Portland where Heidi and Sunday now live together with three dogs and a cat.

When they had their wedding ceremony in 2007, the couple had never even been to a Timbers game together. Now, dozens and dozens of Timbers and Thorns scarves cover the walls in the couple's basement. More scarves hang over the bar on their workout bench.

The rest of the basement is covered with flags and posters signed by the Timbers and Thorns players. Sunday's prized possession is a pair of game-worn and signed cleats that Thorns captain Christine Sinclair gave her after a match.

Sunday Renee White and Heidi Koenig White bought season tickets to the Portland Timbers in 2009.

Heidi had grown up playing soccer and was already an avid fan of the U.S. women's national team, when the couple first started getting wind of the buzz around the Portland Timbers. Sunday had been to a few Timbers matches as a young child, but barely remembered them.

Even though the couple had never attended a game together, they decided to buy season tickets in 2009.

The atmosphere at the games immediately hooked them. Sunday was especially enthralled by the Capos, the name for the fans that lead cheers at the bottom of the Timbers Army sections. At their very first match, she turned to Heidi and said, "I want to be down there."

"Give it a couple years," Heidi responded.

"Years?" Sunday said. "Give it six months."

After that, Sunday would perch on her chair in the middle of the M row in section 108 facing away from the field, as she loudly helped lead the crowd in chants. The fans around her promised to catch her if she fell.

In 2010, when a Capo spot opened up, Sunday took over the role.

Ever since that time, she has led chants while standing on the stage at the bottom of section 108 with her blonde hair spiked in an instantly signature mohawk.

"She loved it," Heidi said, "and I got to watch soccer."

• • •

The historic news was announced on May 19, while Sunday, the director of logistics at Keyscaper, and Heidi, a bartender at the Claim Jumper restaurant in Tualatin, were both at work.

U.S. District Judge Michael McShane had struck down Oregon's ban on same-sex marriage.

Sunday started to weep with joy. Heidi immediately signed into Facebook.

She posted on Sunday's wall, "Will you marry me?" Sunday quickly responded with a "Yessss!"

As the couple started thinking about planning a wedding, they couldn't help but recall their Timbers experiences. Through the years, when the couple had sung the Timbers Army chant "Bury Me In Timbers Green," they had always replaced "bury" with "marry."

Marry me in Timbers Green, Ohh-ohh

Marry me in Timbers Gold, Ahh-ahh

So, they decided, "What better place to get married than at a Timbers match?"

• • •

Sunday and Heidi had always expected the wedding to occupy a fleeting moment at the top of Section 108, but when word got out that the couple would be making it official at the final home match of the season, their friends from the Timbers Army started to wonder what it would take for them to get involved.

Timbers fan Brent Diskin, a graphic designer, who creates striking Timbers posters as a hobby, made a flyer. One friend offered to do Sunday's hair. Another made the couple matching pins that read, "I love Sunday" and "I love Heidi." And yet another dyed Sunday's wedding dress from the 2007 ceremony green, so that she could be married in green and gold. Heidi wore a matching green and gold kilt for the occasion.

Timbers owner Merritt Paulson came down into the stands before the ceremony to congratulate Sunday and Heidi.

As the Timbers warmed up on the field for their massive game against Real Salt Lake, fans in the Timbers Army turned away from the pitch to watch Sunday and Heidi walk down the aisle, with a group of family members trailing close behind.

"Sunday is so caring and giving and loving, and Heidi is spectacular," said Sunday's mother Janet Potter, 63. "To have them finally be acknowledged by their government is beyond words."

There, at the top of Section 108, nearly five months after gay marriage was legalized in Oregon, Timbers fan Kristen Gehrke legally pronounced Sunday and Heidi wife and wife. The couple sealed it with a kiss.

Around them the crowd began to sing, "Sunday, Heidi we adore you."

-- Jamie Goldberg | @jamiebgoldberg