New Mexico United vs El Paso Locomotive
This 2025 season, we’ve made it one of our primary missions to cover as many US Open Cup games as possible. It’s the oldest and most historic competition in America, giving opportunities for lower-league teams to slay giants and for communities to be swept up in the excitement of what only a true open tournament can bring.
In the arid stretches of New Mexico, soccer is more alive than ever. A desert rose, they say. We witnessed it this past week in NMU’s Open Cup duel against their El Paso neighbors. Wrestling masks, custom flags, plastic swans, you name it—the stands were a beautiful mosaic of what this underrated soccer destination has to offer. For years, the pristine, timeless desert has been the perfect canvas for a vibrant soccer culture to emerge and bloom in gorgeous splendor. As the players took the field for this midweek Open Cup duel, the diehards in attendance conjured up a thundercloud, stomping and cheering with a force that echoed far across the land. It almost chilled you to the bone. And even though in the end it wasn’t the final result we all wished for, it didn’t matter. We all left having experienced the oldest tournament in America, in one of the oldest deserts in our continent. A bucket list for any lover of this heartbreaking, yet, undeniably beautiful game.
This is what photographer Noah McDonald had to say about the match:
What were some of the most notable things you saw in the stands or around the stadium in general?
Some of the most memorable sights in the stands were the unique and creative ways fans showed their support for the team. From wrestling masks to custom flags and homemade merch, everyone had their own personal flair. My favorite, by far, was a woman who carried a plastic swan in a bag. The swan wore a New Mexico United t-shirt signed by her favorite player, Daniel Bruce. When I asked if I could take a photo, she proudly pointed out all the little details that made the swan special to her.
The atmosphere before and during the game was electric with tension. These two teams genuinely hate each other, and you could feel it—from the fans in the stands to the players on the field. The pregame carried a focused, almost eerie quietness, like the calm before a storm. Then came the flags waving aggressively, fans screaming at the top of their lungs, and the thunderous stomping on the metal bleachers that made the whole stadium shake like an earthquake. The air was crisp and cool, carrying that unmistakable scent of a spring night—a smell you can’t quite describe, but one that signals a fresh season and better weather on the horizon.
How did the club you were covering experience this game? How did the players react? What about the fans?
The New Mexico United players went through a rollercoaster of frustration and pain. The game was intense from start to finish—filled with trash talk, shoving, and hard fouls that left several United players on the ground, writhing in pain. They played their hearts out, battling through two 15-minute extra time halves, but the score remained tied. It all came down to a penalty shootout, where heartbreak struck. After giving everything they had, the players were visibly devastated—some furious, others in tears, the weight of the loss etched on their faces.
What approach/mindset did you go with to cover this game?
Going into this game, I knew I wanted to capture the intensity of the match. Even during pregame, as I prepped my gear and got ready to shoot, I could feel the tension in the air—rooted in the deep rivalry between the teams and echoed by the fans. My goal was to make sure the photos reflected just how hard-fought this game was. From players screaming in pain after rough fouls to the raw trash talk and emotional outbursts, every moment told a story. This game meant everything to these players—they pushed through so much, and the post-game speeches made it clear just how deeply the loss hit them. I wanted to show all of that emotion—not just through the players, but through the fans, the coaches, even the ball boys.
What was your favorite thing about the night? Describe it for someone who wasn’t there.
My favorite part of the night was the energy the fans brought. The crowd was smaller than usual, but you’d never know it based on how loud the stadium was. From start to finish, fans were screaming, stomping on the bleachers, and creating a pressure-filled atmosphere that you could feel in your chest. They truly made the game for me. Their creativity was on full display—waving unique flags and showing off handmade pieces to support the team. And even after the heartbreaking loss, they stuck by the players. They lifted them up, shouting words of love and encouragement: apologizing for the loss, praising their effort, and reminding them that they played a great game—and that we’d get them next time.
Why is the Open Cup important to you?
The Open Cup, to me, is one of the purest expressions of sport. It’s where underdogs get the chance to face giants, and every match is filled with compelling storylines. It’s a tournament of both triumph and heartbreak—where athletes push themselves to the edge for the rare opportunity to compete against their idols, turning heroes into peers, if only for a night. The highs in this tournament are incredibly high, and the lows can be crushing. It’s one of the few competitions where the stakes are measured not just in trophies, but in pride, emotion, and the bragging rights that mean everything.
How did this game change/uphold your perspective on the Open Cup?
This game shifted my perspective on the Open Cup. It showed me just how deeply a loss in this tournament can impact both a team and its fan base. The devastation was visible—through tears, slumped shoulders, and the heavy body language of players and supporters alike. It was a powerful reminder that the Open Cup isn’t just another competition. It truly means something. For these fans and players, it’s about pride, dreams, and the chance to be part of something bigger than themselves.
