Well,
I am slowly coming out of my anaesthetic state.
I have been that since late on Saturday.
Thoughts........
1.
The team did us proud.!!! What football they played.!! Whilst we rue our bad luck and specific incidents in the game, the team as a whole played bright and attractive football, which is a sign of El Tel's influence.
How nice it is to remark about the number of chances we had (albeit missed) to score. It is as though we have emerged from the dark ages, away from the pessimistic and tight fisted, defence prone eras of Arok and THomson.!!!
To see the Socceroos attacking with defenders like Moore and Tobin up in the box trying to score was MOST refreshing.
In the after match comments, I thought the Iranian coach was very kind and accurate on his summation of the game on SBS coverage. He emphasised how lucky they were.!!
Also, I think Kyle Patterson, is a dork.!!! His bumbling cmments yesterday on OTB, was embarrassing.
2.
The referee had a reasonable game, though there were a couple of incidents that caused some concern. The cautioning of Kewell, was ridiculous. Clearly, he turned his back on the incident, which is a NO NO for a referee.!!!
The inspectors present at the game will mark him down on that incident, because clearly he did not see the incident, nor did he seek any evidence or help from his linesman, otherwise, he would not have booked Kewell..!!
That goose of a keeper leads a very charmed life.!!! All his gamesmanship in the first game in Teheran, where he feigned injury, and now again, he feigned against our young Harry.!!! He should have been given a card for his unsportsmanlike behaviour.
Also, the amount of time wasting and acting by all the Irani players after they scored the equaliser, was tolerated for far too long.!!! Azizi fell to the ground clutching his throat and stomach after he was beaten in the air in a 50/50 aerial challenge by Moore.
It is this sort of behaviour that is detested by supporters. I do not think I am biased, but it seems to me, that Australian players are so matter of fact about these 50/50 tackles. You never see them writhing around in supposed agony clutching every part of their body.
Quite the opposite.....the Aussies pick themselves up and get on with the game, as they did on numerous occasions on Saturday night.
FIFA talk about FAIR PLAY, and show the banner before all games. Well they should instruct the Referees to be harder with these prima donnas that carry on with all their feigned injuries, like they do.!! It is a blight upon the game.!!
I do not blame Sandor Puhl for missing the offside first goal.!!! It was the linesmans responsibility to flag it, and I cannot believe he did not see it., given the position of the play at the time.
I was the only one in our World Cup party who was protesting the offside goal as the event happened, and I was initially ridiculed by everyone, but the replay and still shots prove the off side ruling wouyld have been correct..
3.
I hope all the usual back stabbers keep the knives sheathed this time.!!
David Hill and El Tel has been like a breath of fresh air to the code here in Australia, and we need to hang onto Hill as long as possible.
Realistically, Venables will need to move on, as he will be much sought after, and frankly our progrma will be fairly quiet for the next 2 years if past schedules are followed.
WE will not be able to compete with the Liverpool's and Real Madrids etc.
He has done us proud, and I do believe we got our moneys worth.
Just ask yourself, when was the last time you were sitting on the edge of your seat thoroughout an entire game the Socceroos played, in cmparison to being sent in a numbing coma with the defensive ploys of Frank and Eddie in the past.!!
4.
Time to say thank you for the memories from both Slater and Arnold. They have served us well over the years, but their representative days are now behind them I think.
I still did not agree with playing Arnold at all in either game, as I believe a younger faster and fresher Aloisi or Mori, was what was needed.
5.
Lastly it is important that we change our geographical grading within FIFA, or change FIFA's thinking.
Whilst I do not think that Oceania as a confederation is particularly strong, in football playing strength, if the Confederation is BIG enough to have it's own administrative structure, and is BIG enough to be recognised within FIFA, then it should be represented at the World Cup Finals.!!!
If the Oceania representative is not represented at the World Cup Finals, then the world should be rejigged globally along the same lines as most Global commercial organisations are, and Australia and all the other Oceania countries should be folded into another region such as Asia.
It is ridiculous in this day and age, when there are 32 teams involved in the World Cup, that every confederation is NOT represented.!!!
FIFA's argument that the best teams should be at the World cup, is a little hard to fathom how a team like Jamaica can qualify ahead of Australia.
Here we are, played 10 games, won 8, drawn 2, and we do not qualify.!!! What a joke.!!
Well, we had better stock up the cave for the next 3 years hibernation, because the media and press will drop us(Soccer) like hot cakes, after their obligatory clinical autopsy this week.
Lastly well done Melbourne.!!!!!! 85,000 .!!! You truly are the sports spectator capital of the Australia.
Hopefully, once we get the Olympic stadium in Sydney, with facilities to match, we will start turning up in out numbers to national showdowns similar to last Saturday.
In a far off coffee-shop in cold, wintry Munich, I cried along with thousands of other Australian football fans today. I watched with delight as my beloved Socceroos took the lead in their final World Cup qualifying match, settling my churning stomach. I even accepted an offered coffee.
Then they went 2-0 up.
But then I relaxed -- and so seemingly did they. Iran came sweeping back and my stomach is still churning many hours later as a result. What came over the Socceroos today will only be fathomed by their collective inner thoughts. Cruising to a 2-0 win, minutes from an historic World Cup place, they gave over the initiative and lost. I sensed it happen, that loss of initiative, around the time young Harry Kewell was booked - justly or not - for his challenge on the Iranian keeper. Never mind that the first Iranian goal smacked of off-side (check it out for yourself).
How could they do this.
Don't they realise how this will affect Australian football for the next four years???? Who cares -- who gives a TOSS about the forthcoming confederations cup, about all those stupid friendlies???? WE WON'T BE AT THE WORLD CUP. That's all that matters.
It also matters that all our 'friends', those rugby league, rugby union, aussie rules, basketball, cricket, baseball etc fans will secretly be delighted that the socceroos have failed again. Because it means that just as Australian football was raising its head up, it gets it kicked.
The mass media will go back to ignoring 'wog ball', because they're never on the big stage. Can never quite make the jump to the big time. Sure, some individuals with a few big clubs, but as a national team -- not quite up to it. And it'll hurt the national league, and the state leagues and all the other leagues. Rather than leap forward, the game will limp on, still desperately waiting for the shot in the arm that the World Cup would have provided. That's why I cried.
I am as as shattered as anyone, but I don't think that we should be calling for (ie. blaming our misfortune on) changes to our qualifying route, just because we were, ultimately, unsuccessful.
We have known our route and the qualifying format, if not our final opponent, for more than 18 months. As Aussies, we should not now cry foul, and ask for a recount. Depressingly and unjustly we didn't make it, but the rules have been there for ages. EVERYONE was saying what a dream route - 8 games in total and only two away ! As a matter of fact, the easyiness is ultimately what has cost us.
Our national team has never played more attractive and passionate football as they did last Saturday, but the darned Iranians had just come through 10 weeks of continuous competition and pressure cooker situations. (That is probably the only thing to their credit, their condition and fighting spirit.)
Let us not cry foul after the fact, but I do agree we should be pointing out to FIFA that we no longer want to be tacked on to the backside of another confederations qualifiers in a knock out - Scotland (Europe group runner up 1986 WC), Argentina (South American group runner-up 1994 WC), Iran (Asia group runner-up 1998 WC). It is farcical to believe Oceania will be given their own spot, so at least put the Oceania winner into another round-robin group to develop some competitive consistency over time.
(Do we really want this - or should we be grateful for another easy passage next time? What if Daei had got that golden goal in Malaysia just before Japan got theirs. We would have played Japan. How would we have done against them?.............)
Hi Friends,
I literally couldn't speak to anyone until Sunday morning when, as I was staying with rellies, I had to put on a bit of a performance. I didn't really cry until I tried to express my feelings to my wife on getting home last night..... and I am weeping like a baby as I type this. It's Monday morning and I don't know how to face the external world with my internal one so black, grey, torn and shattered. Next ignorant git that says any pointless words of consolation may just regret it. I'm pleased that my real football friends here in Brisbane have known not to contact me yet.
I didn't think I could post anything for a while, but am sending this as a bit of (I hope) therapeutic verbalization. So please forgive me for using you all. Hope to rationalize in due course. Football - can't live with it, can't live without it. Cheers,
Comrades,
Along with swathes of other people all around the country [and overseas] I have just spent the worst 48 hours of my life. I have thought long and hard about other possible contending incidents in my life for this unique honour and I'm afraid, for the pure so-very-near-to-nirvana-ness, and pure helplessness of it all, this is it.
When the Iranian's second goal went in it was chaos where I was. Disbelief. With people running all over the pitch and Sandor Puhl running towards the goal line with his arm in the air I was SURE that he was blowing them back for offside. He must do that. It was the right thing to do. But, no.
At full-time it was deathly silent. I had to run a gauntlet of frenzied, wide-eyed, chanting Iranian fans mobbing their officials. It was frightening. I spotted Rale Rasic, who couldn't even speak. Adrian Alston was just standing around shaking his head.
Me and some mates aimed for the Cricketer's Arms but, in keeping with the recent frustrating turn of events, it was shut. We wanted to avoid the Hilton but were perversely drawn back there. It was packed in the bar with the usual suspects hanging around. Avoid! Avoid! bleated my social radar.
The players had a private function on the first floor. Bosnich had already split to be with his family. Damien Mori was standing around downstairs signing a program for a kid who said "Thank you, Mr Mori," when Frogger signed by his pen pic.
Johnny Warren was walking around saying, "Now is not the time to say anything. It is too emotional." He was really really cut.
I called my girlfriend who was sitting in another part of the stadium to me and had gone back to our hotel to wait for details on where we were going after the game.
She'd been harrassed by a bunch of thugs on her way to the game. Somewhere on Elizabeth St they saw she was wearing a Socceroo shirt and in their thick Aussie accents baited her with "Where are you from? Where are you from?" When she answered "Australia, you fucken dickheads," they said "Where are you really from?" She said, er, Australia, and as they pushed and shoved her they said, "We usually beat up people like you." She didn't want to come out, though. She'd been crying since the final whistle and didn't want to talk to anyone. Not even me. When the replay came on later she was nearly sick and begged for sleep to take her away.
Meanwhile, I gathered a couple of troops from the Hilton and we headed to the casino and picked over the still bleeding corpse.
I really thought that this was it, especially as the older players of the team are my age and this Socceroo outfit was my generation. If you like, they carried my misguided fantasy that I too could be out there with them in France. Now, though, with Slater at 37 and Stan - STAN! - at 30 for 2002 my time has gone!
Unlike, other people I have no 'second team' to follow in France. Born in Australia, with no known relatives with ties to other countries, the most enthusiasm I will be able to raise is for Mexico. I met a bloke there once who knew the name Johnny Warren from 1974. Mexico it is then.
It is at this point, though, at the lowest of lows, that the true believers must fight the good fight. We won over the infidels with the MCG show. It demonstrated that, given the occasion, football is a bona fide national sport. I would have paid, and will again, big money just to sing the anthem again just like it was on Saturday.
Unfortunately, there are dark forces gathering [yes, the Australian and Sydney Daily Telegraph's so-called soccer writers are stirring their pot of self-interest]. The VSF and NSWSF are seeing this as their last chance to regain the power that is slowly ebbing away from them. Certain people within certain clubs, whose futures may not look to rosy between now and 2002, also see this as their final opportunity to save their short-term skins.
Their lies the chance that there will be an enormous shit fight over the next six months as casualties are sought and people want to see 'blame' laid somewhere.
Some changes do need to happen, yet these changes needed to happen and would have happened regardless of whether we qualified or not. At this vulnerable time though it is important that those fighting the good fight, and not those railing for their own petty power claims and selfish self-interest, are the winners.
We have all seen the light. We want to see a repeat of last Saturday [except for the result] again. Not a return to the wilderness years. Our time has gone and our chances missed. But it will come again.
At least for that little kid getting Mori's autograph at the Hilton let's stand up and be counted and make sure that the nipper can have Damien Mori, Harry Kewell, and Stan as his heros. That when he kicks a ball around at lunchtime at school this week he pretends to be those players rather than some European goose. Let's make the game attractive to kids and not something that they only pay interest in once every four years. Let's not lose them to other ridiculous sports that don't self-combust at every given opportunity.
Please, please, please, don't stuff it up with pathetic petty, in-fighting.
PS believe it or not, there are some positive points to come out of the fall-out. But I can't be fucked right now.
How do I begin to put to words the scenes I have seen and the emotions I have felt in the past 40 hours? All I can do is take a deep breath and start from the beggining.
I walked into the Cricketer's Arms early in the afternoon. I waspreoccupied about the match and couldn't think of anything else to trivially take up a couple of hours. The place was empty... literally! They had cleared out all the chairs and tables and the bar staff were sitting in the corner waiting for the fun to begin. I ordered a beer and spying Greg Stock walking past the pub, I dragged him in for a beer. I'm happy to report that there, in the empty Arms, we pretty much solved most of the problems of Australian domestic and international football. I'm sorry to say that events after that have wiped all the solutions out of my head. Oh well, another time, another pub and they'll come back.
When KC turned up we adjourned out the back and it was there that we were going to wait out the anxious hours until the big one. It was, again, a real pleasure to meet the faces behind the names on the list. Great to finally meet Greg Baxter, Ozsoccer guru and all round cool dude. Tony ajm Moran, Farr postman and honorary Grouss Aussie Shearer. David Arnold, the new Versace complete with his "MCG Welcomes Women banner. Andrew Howe the numbers man. and of course, Mark and Malcom (the lurker) and all the Bowman clan, Dave Marshall and his sons, Snorkel, and countess others whos names will come to me just after I click the Send button... the pub was alive. The Bay 23 boys were out front and getting into fine voice. I was simply too nervous and couldn't get to the ground quick enough. The Stallions were there, the Newcastle lads turned up. There was singing and banner unfurling on Punt Rd. If there was any doubt in the minds of Mr and Mrs Joe Punter in the carsdriving past about what World Cup football was about, it was gone when they drove past the Arms. 6:00 ticked past agonisingly slowly. 6:30 and it was time to go.
The walk to the ground was simply amasing. People were streaming from all directions heading for the G. So many Socceroo strips, so much Green & Gold, so many flags. Outside the ground Dave Marshall spied DAvid Hill and we followed him chanting "David Hill, David Hill, David Hill". Being the niusance that he is, Dave shook Mr Hill's hand. Secretely I worried about teh mental well being of his boys. Their father was obviously an influence. Once inside the ground I was stunned. By 7:00 the place was a sea of faces. Flags waving everywhere, horns trumpetting. New football fans were joining in the chants of "Aussie" and "socceroo, socceroo,socceroo", and apreciating the wit of the other chants. With the Bay23 boys in Bay M3, this was a moment of victory. There was a moment of recognition, that this sport was for real. For this night, we would be watching football like they do in the rest of the world.... to a packed house with a lot of noise and passion. There were tears. The pre-match entertainment was a bit light on but I never noticed. The one moment was when they chose to play "You'll never walk alone". Again, the huge crowd joined in and it made the hairs on the back of the neck stand up.
Two skydivers arrived with the Iranian and Australian flags. When the Iranian flag landed, the noise was astounding. When the Australian flag landed, the emotions just ran high. I felt happy for the old timers, people like Harry Bowman, people sporting scarves from the 1978 socceroos. This was their moment.
I can't find the words to do justice to the emotion of the national anthem. I was in tears while singing it, holding my flag high. I have never, ever, heard the anthem sung like that anywhere. As the final strains were dying down, I felt something hit the back of my leg and then it got a tad warm down there. Let me use this opportunity to plug the durability and sturdiness of the Doctor Marten boot especially in the presence of flares. We moved around trying to move away from them and putting out little paper fires along the row. Then Mr Plod of the Vic constabulary taps me on the shoulder and tells me to put it out. Dumbfounded I asked "What?" He points at the flare, and he looked a bit pissed off, and said "Put it out! Now! Step on it." At this point, I can see how high they set the IQ level on the Vic Police entrance exam. But what do you do? I stepped on it, and it didn't go out. The fire people came and disposed of the flares and smoke grenade but not before Harry's seat melted.
Those first five minutes were the most amasing five minutes I have ever witnessed of any football match live or televised. I was on edge, absolutely going faint at the prospect of Iran scoring first, blood draining from my head at every missed shot we had, fearful that Australia were squandering chances they may regret later. After that first onslaught, it became clear that Australia were controlling this match and Iran were not getting a look in. Bagheri? Who the fuck was he? We had it all over them in every department. Don't get me wrong, I was as nervous as hell. Two words come to mind when the first goal went in; joy and relief. I turned to Mark and Dave behind me and we went ballistic. We lasted out the rest of the half, this time the fear being that an Iranian goal would see us into sudden death and see me into hospital with total nervous faliure and the horrible prospect of CPR from Dave Marshall.
The celebrations after the second goal were another scene I have frozen in the memory bank. This was it!! There were hugs all round and tears. We were on our way to France.
How could we have set ourselves up so much for so great a fall? That was the moment all our hearts were laid bare for the Football Gods to pick out. When it came, that first crappy, shitty, crappy, crap, crap, shit, sunday leage, third rate, under 9, OFFSIDE goal...... The horror set in. I'm sure the old timers felt it straight away, I know the Bay 23 boys felt it. I still had a glimmer of hope but when that first goal went in, it was over. When the second went in, I sat in my seat dejected. Until then I had been in Bay M3 with the Bay 23 boys, Dave was there, Andrew Howe was there, the oldtimer with the 78 Soceroo scarf who kept tapping me on the shoulder and waving is arms around saying "Can you believe this" was there. Now I was alone.
I didn't see the last ten minutes at all. I heard the groans of the crowd. I stared at the ground, at my scorched jeans Docs with the melted shoelaces and covered in phospherous and red crusty shit from flares and smoke grenade. I just sat and felt so empty. The knot in my gut was getting larger. This was my worst nightmare coming true and we were all powerless to stop it. I heard a lot of people get up to go so I knew the match was over. I couldn't move. I stayed for I don't know how long with my head in my hands. The Aussie flag I had waved so emotionally, I was now using it to wipe my tears. When I finally got up to go, I was just too stunned. The new fans had seen what a spectacle the game could be on the field. As they left the ground, they saw also, what an effect it could have on you if it got under your skin too much.
On automatic pilot I headed for the Cricketers Arms. It was shut! KC informed me that they had run out of beer! We were all just numb. I walked back to Young and Jackson's. A 30 minute walk maybe. I couldn't think about why. What was the point? We weren't going and that was it. The numbness had already turned to anger for some but I was just numb. I walked past the cheering Iraian fans. I walked past the Hilton where more fans were singing. They must have known their team was absolutely outclassed but so what. We weren't going and that was that.
Another scene that sticks with me was outside the Royal hotel, just along from the Cricketer's. Two men came out. One was a typical looking, tall Croat. I'd seen guys looking exactly like him chanting "Cro-art-zi-ah!" at Syd Utd matches. His mate said "Look on the bright side. At least England and Croatia made it" The Croat youth, his face drawn, turned to his mate with an almost disgusted look on his face, waved his mate away, shook his head, and turned and walked away. It was a poignant moment for me. Sure we all have countries that we can turn to by going back a generation or two. But who could give a f*ck how Italy or England or Scotland or Croatia do when Australia weren't going to be there. I wasn't going to go to France next year to watch Italy. I'm not going to France at all now.
At Y&J's I met with some of the Bay 23 boys who I had sat next to. We all swore off the sport there and then. No way could we do it for another four years. We had the easiest draw ever, with our best coach ever, arguably our best team ever with a packed MCG and a knowledgeable and passionate crowd..... and still we never made it. How could we ever get the chance again. Numbness had turned into dissenchantment. Tony Moran wandered in and eventually we returned to the Vic. The bar was still open and we had one last drink while pondering why? All those plans for the trip of a lifetime next year, gone.
At the end of the night, the person I truly felt the most for was Harry. Tonight was supposed to be for him and people like him. These were the guys that kept the sport alive in Australia while nobody in the country gave a damn and the sport was ridiculed by all. The guys that intilled in their sons the enthusiasm to keep it alive. Harry deserved better.
Sorry if I appeared ot be rambling but it had to come out.
Well well,
What a disaster. I guess (Jeff...) this is what happens when you hijack an event that rightfully belongs in Sydney. If the game had been played at the SFS, Australia would be in France next year ! As it was, sure it was a great "occasion", and I'm sure the noise was *very* loud when the 2 Aussie goals went in, but what's the final result ? Another case of Kennett fucking up the rest of the country !!! :-)
So, I'm glad I didn't end up going ! It was painful enough watching it on TV ... I don't want to rub it in too much but you must be REALLY pissed off ... what was the total $$$'s spent on the exercise ? Of course I'm sure you probably doubled that drowning your sorrows after the game finished ...
Strangely enough I had the feeling from Wednesday or Thursday on that it wasn't going to be a happy ending ... sure it's easy to be wise after the event, but it's true. A pity that Nostradamus Hatfield is always right even in bad times ... I think it's safe to say also that I was most dismayed when Japan won that sudden-death playoff ! If it was them instead of Iran, I think we'd also be in France.
As for the game itself, well basically it boiled down to the age-old Aussie problem: lack of finishing power. To come off at half-time after *total* dominance like that and only be ahead 1-0, is fucking ludicrous. This time it really *should* have been 2-0 or 3-0 at half- time, and Iran would have been out of the game. The main culprits were, unfortunately, A Vidmar and M Viduka ... I guess they've got a long time (ie. 4 years) to think about it. It wasn't Venables' fault, it was totally down to the players not taking their chances ... if you don't take your chances at World Cup level it'll come back to haunt you and that's exactly what happened last night.
Strangely enough I'm nowhere near as depressed about it as I thought I would've been. I'm still looking forward to the tournament next year, and cheering on Germany, England (!) and Jamaica while death- riding the bastard teams like Argentina, Brazil, Iran and of course those no-hopers-who-don't-deserve-to-be-there the USA. In the meantime Australia and New Zealand should strongly lobby to be part of the Asian Confederation next time round, and also that the Oceania Confederation be scrapped. This will be a more fair test for both countries and will also ensure that the whole campaign doesn't (probably) come down to 1 or 2 sudden-death matches.
PS. Has Venables resigned yet ?
Will the clubs get together and sack David Hill? I certainly hope not. We've got to look at developing the game in this country for the long term. I think DH is the man to do that.
Australian Soccer didn't die on Saturday night, much as it felt (and still does) that way. Four years seems a long time, but we'll be back challenging for a spot in Japan/Sth Korea. Kewell will be 23, Viduka 26, Lazarides 30, Bosnich 29. We saw at the world youth championships what our young kids can do when they put their minds to it. All we need is a decent coach to take control of the game for the next four years. I'd love that man to be Oz Tel, but I can't see him sticking around. Next March we'll be on the lookout for a new coach, and they'd better look at a top overseas European/South American one. We need a coach with good contacts to get us tough games against quality opponents on a regular basis. A local man (no matter how good) just won't be able to do that.
Roll on 2002, until then COME ON YOU BLUES!!!
(in for the long haul)
Isn't it great being back at work, with nothing to look forward to for another four years? But hey it could be worse... at least we're not New Zealand soccer fans discussing their next World Cup campaign.
Talk that the game will never recover is rubbish. Australians have always loved a battler, and we tend to remember glorious failures with great fondness (the 'Gallipoli factor', which is the opposite of the 'tall poppy syndrome'). The talk amongst non-Soccer followers who watched the game (in enormous, unprecedented numbers) was how well our boys played and how unlucky we were not to get the result. The general public bled like all true soccer fans bled, and they will be back when it counts. This result will serve only to enhance the profile of the Socceroos, and will endear them to the Australian people like never before.
At international level the game is bigger than it has ever been. There were 85,000 at the MCG on Saturday. 24 years ago we were playing Iran at the dilapidated old Sydney Sports Ground, which is now the Gold Members carpark. 12 years ago we were delighted to see 30,000 turn up at Olympic Park to see us draw with Scotland. Four years ago we weren't surprised to get a 43,000 full house at the SFS to see Argentina play, but the MCG would have been far too ambitious, we agreed at the time. If we were playing that same game at the MCG next weekend, Diego Maradona and all, then no one would even bat an eyelid if you said it would draw 99,000. Every World Cup campaign gets bigger than the last one. So the game is advancing, and will continue to do so.
Everyone will be a bit down for a few months, at least until after France 98. Then it will start to pick up again - you know that it will, because we've been through it all before. And wake up - we've got the Olympics in 2000. I'll bet money now that Australia's games will all be sellouts, either at the SFS or in Melbourne (which could yet host some games, after the success of Saturday night) Indeed, for most ordinary people the soccer will be the only decent event for which they will be able to get a ticket. And there will be a young bloke called Harry Kewell that they'll all want to see. After an exciting campaign in 2000 we'll all be psyched for the next World Cup and ready to do it all again when the qualifiers start in 2001.
So what's better: being knocked out of the World Cup with John Constantine as head of SA, or being knocked out of the World Cup with David Hill as head of SA? As long as Soccer has got David Hill, one of this country's finest administrators, we're in good shape. Hill has his faults, he can be arrogant and doesn't always listen when he should, and may also be partially to blame for our poor preparation in the lead up to the Iran games, but soccer in Australia is nevertheless the better for his influence. By all accounts he is soccer mad, and therefore unlikely to walk away from the job. Sure, we'll probably lose Venables, but with the Olympics as a carrot I think we'll be able to find a pretty decent replacement. The biggest worry is probably the state of the national league, particularly in Sydney and Melbourne. But recent success stories in Perth and Brisbane show that there is a good future, particularly with David Hill steering the ship. If only we could reverse the player drain...
Now, a few quick grabs...
Australia has not lost a World Cup qualifier at home for SIXTEEN years (that will be 19 years in 2001). But we have not qualified for the World Cup. Why not? Draws in crunch home games, every time. 0-0 vs Scotland in 1985, 1-1 vs Israel in 1989, 1-1 vs Argentina in 1993, 2-2 vs Iran in 1997. If you don't win at home you'll struggle, and we have paid the price by being eliminated every time.
Scapegoat: Aurelio Vidmar. Ruined two gilt-edged chances in the first ten minutes, when the boys were on fire.
Scapegoat: That moron. Same bloke who ran onto the track at the Melbourne Cup and disrupted the Michael Hutchence funeral. Broke Australia's rhythm while we still had all guns blazing. He lives in Sydney - let's find out his address and go and break his legs.
Scapegoat: Soccer Australia. Iran were playing their 17th qualifier of this campaign, we were playing our 8th. Your local lawn bowls club could have won the first six of those Socceroo games. Iran have had their squad playing regularly together for the last three months in the final Asian qualifying series - a well-drilled, battle-hardened combat unit that went to hell and back and survived. So we played Tunisia in a friendly to get ready for them. And half of our guys haven't even play club football this season. So why the hell didn't SA organise a few more games, even if it was only against Indonesia or Thailand? We took it for granted that we were going to France. After all, we ONLY had to beat the fourth-placed Asian nation. How wrong we were.
Scapegoat: FIFA, the Oceania confederation and the Asian confederation. We should be in Asia. The Oceania qualifiers should take place at the same time as all of the preliminary Asian qualifiers, and the Oceania winner should go into the final pot of 10, with the rest of Asia's finest. Top of Asian Group A and top of Asian Group B go through (Japan and Korea qualify automatically in 2002). Shit, maybe the current system isn't too bad for us after all !!!
HERO: Harry Kewell. He's 19, playing the two biggest games of his life, and scores in both. He was desperately unlucky not to have scored inside 10 minutes at the MCG, with that blistering shot on the turn, when only a miracle headed clearance off the line saved Iran. It smashed into the defender's head, before he even saw it coming. Kewell later contributed to Australia's second with an intelligent header back across the face of goal. Two world cup caps, two goals - what more could you ask from a striker? This kid gave us that and more. Let's hope he now develops into a truly world-class player, and not another injury-prone primadonna like Nerd Zelic.
The future: Ivanovich, Tobin, Slater, A.Vidmar and Arnold are unlikely to play World Cup football again. But think about this: Ned Zelic will be 31 in 2002. It only seems like yesterday that he was the new wonderkid. Mark Bosnich turns 30 in 2002. One of the finest generations of Australian soccer will almost have come to pass. How tragic if we nothing to show for it after 2002.
And let's face it, France 98 would have been crap anyway. If you've always dreamed of going to the World Cup finals with the Socceroos here's why it is better to wait four more years and be patient:
FRANCE 1998 JAPAN/KOREA 2002
The locals Rude, arrogant, smelly Very polite
The food Snails, frogs' legs, onions Sushi, Teriyaki, nice
Alcohol French red tastes like vinegar Good choice of beers
The grounds Crumbling, archaic, too small Large, modern
Tickets Pay a thieving bastard, if Bigger grounds, more
you're lucky tickets, like USA 94
Hooligans Marauding bands of European Yobs will stay away
thugs (eg Spain 82, Italia 90) (eg Mexico 86, USA 94)
Atmosphere Tension, fear (see above) Big party (see above)
Accomodation Rude, over-charging Frogs An enormous selection
offering flea-infested, of modern hotels, yet
filth-ridden hovels with that unique touch
So cheer up everyone, and get behind the boys for 2002.
P.S. Thanks for reading this. Writing it has been very therapeutic for me.
P.P.S. Andrew or Mark, please dump this onto the Internet for me if you have access, because unfortunately I don't. Publishers are welcome to publish this as a letter or contribution but please give me credit by putting my name on it and don't pinch my intellectual property (ideas and opinions) for yourself.
P.P.P.S. Does anyone know if that rumour about a world record crowd was true? Someone was telling me FIFA thought it might have been a world record aggregate attendance for a World Cup tie over two legs. 128,000 + 85,000 = 213,000. Most countries don't even have a stadium that holds 100,000, and you normally have to go back to the olden days to find crowd figures like the one in Tehran last Saturday week (e.g. Hampden Park or the Maracana).
Just de-lurking to express a few moments of positive feelings that came over me... better get them down before the depression returns!
On my office wall in front of my face I've stuck the Daily Telegraph photo of Aurelio Vidmar flying through the air in celebration after scoring the second goal: he's looking at the immense crowd, his whole body expresses such hope and jubilation that it breaks my heart.
Yet there remains something truly inspirational to me about it too - this is what is possible for Aussie soccer: fantastic national side that plays with style and creates chances and scores goals, massive crowd, tremendous national passion (and the heartbreak that goes with it). Thinking back to how I've felt over various World Cup campaigns, I don't remember being sure all these things would reach this state. Now we know what is possible (maybe I'm just slow :-) Now that hunger is there, it won't die, it will really start to grow, we'll produce even better players, better support, more money, etc. OK, we've waited too long already, but not having had the things I've described above, there is a sense in which we hadn't yet paid our dues.
Soccer is cruel, but we all know that the possibility for tragedy and injustice in soccer goes hand in hand with the possibility of glory - that's what makes it No. 1.
Ian Pitt - now also not going to France :-(
Reading your messages over the past few days has been akin to accepting condolences for the death of a very dear friend. I am still not ready to discuss the match with anybody, it hurts too much. Without a shadow of a doubt it is among the worst 5 moments of my life. Over the top? Perhaps, but I can't help it.
The wonderful coverage leading up to the big match was spot on. An event of this magnitude deserved it and it was heartening to actually receive it. I am in my early 30's but have invested emotionally and physically in this game of ours for the past 25 years. Realising my limitations as a player, I focussed my attention to administration at an early age and am thankful for the opportunity to be involved at this level in the greatest game and in the greatest country on this planet. I have acheived a little, but have a great deal more to give.
This sport is a HUGE part of my life, much to despair of my family whom I am thankful at having always supported me. The remuneration is nowhere near comparable to the actual workload but this is not even a minor issue. I love it and accordingly I feel the game loves me back with the reward of happiness. My immediate family, among other close friends, have seen me cry on only three occasions in my life. Last Saturday night was the 3rd. I'm sorry but I can't see a bright side just yet.
It annoys me that this loss is being celebrated as a wonderful acheivement for Australian Soccer. We are not participating in the World Cup - Yet Again. How can we celebrate this? What is the acheivement? A large crowd at the MCG? I am sick of reading how gallant and unlucky Australian Soccer teams are. I yearn to read how we battled the likes of Brazil, England, Germany, Italy etc... and won, in a real game, ie:the World Cup. Failing to qualify in a gallant manner will be forgotten in a month, maybe less. We were gallant against Argentina. We were gallant against Scotland. We were ripped off against Israel. I want to read we were fantastic against who stands in our way in 2002 and actually qualify.
What has become increasingly apparent to me is the fact that my job in selling football will remain as difficult as it was last week. The fair weather media will now drop us to concentrate on the 'winning' sports of global importance like Netball, Rugby League, Surfing, Ironman etc...
I'm sorry guys but I can't see a positive at all. I need time to re-motivate myself because last Saturday kicked me well and truly in the guts. 15 minutes from glory to 4 years of watching.