AnT (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ant8472) wrote,@ 2005-11-18 16:01:00 |
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My experience at Telstra stadium for the World Cup Qualifer
(Personal diary excerpt 16/11/2005)
All through Town Hall were the obvious bands of supporters donning green and gold, some with flags, others with rubber pointing fingers. The anticipation could be tasted in the air. The sense of occasion pervaded Sydney throughout and it was concentrated on the train with many anticipating the game they were heading towards. Funny remarks and larrikinism were rife on the train with some already a little bit tipsy from their daytime pre-game drinks and day out on the town.
On our way towards Telstra stadium we followed a massive crowd of excitable Aussies. The life factor was off the scale. The sense of anticipation and celebration hung in the air. Yellow shirts weaved a tapestry a mile long. I saw people bathed in yellow paint and others with green and gold hair. I saw one with green and gold chest hair. Others had flags or writing on their Australian shirts. One said “We are too Kewell for Recoba”. I saw Australian’s pointing at a small group of Uruguayan’s saying “You are gay, you are gay, you are gay.” The Uruguayans seemed amused by the gesture and didn’t take offence. I took my camera out for the first time and filmed much of this.
We walked up the spiralling concrete ramp and made our way to our seats. That first image of the stadium filled with people in yellow starting from the roof of the stadium to the box seats 10 metres below was breath taking. I’ve never been to anything of this magnitude.
As kick off time neared things grew more intense and more glorious. A glorious sea of yellow pervaded the crowd. A vulnerable crowd who has seen all this before only to meet with heart ache after the game allowed their unbridled optimism fill their senses as they cheered the team onto the field.
It took for the FIFA tune and the carrying out of the flags of the two nations and the FIFA flag for me to truly understand that this was an international FIFA match. There was no pretence about it. This was the real deal. This was world cup soccer in our country with the kind of crowd that made me think we were in Wembley.
Kick off. My analysis of the situation was that this was sudden death golden goal for the Uruguayan’s and survival for 90 minutes for the Australians. If Uruguay scored the first goal it was over. We would need 3 goals and that seemed like a task that was beyond us. Teams rarely get three goals to win a game. I knew what I wanted in my heart but my head couldn’t deny the obvious dangers and how close we were from elimination right from the start of the game. 82,000 people were cheering and a mass euphoria rode over them all yet one goal from Uruguay could bring it all to a hush. I didn’t allow myself the luxury of dreaming of our berth in the world cup at this stage. I’ve seen too many cruel outcomes for Australia. Destiny is no part of the result of sport, nor is hope or optimism. In the end it’s the brutal, clinical kinetics of what happens on the field and these kinetics, the science of cause and effect is based on the skills and fortunes of the players. The Uruguayans were no strangers to goals and weren’t lacking players. They too were hungry and had their millions expecting them to qualify.
Australia started poorly and looked like a team ranked 54th playing a team ranked 17th. It looked like the paper it was written on. Australia were panicky in midfield and went backwards more than they went forward. The Uruguayans looked fast, nippy on their toes and outran us. Their passing was good and they always looked dangerous. As the clocked ticked on and on that Uruguayan killer goal would kill faster. The later their goal came the less time we would have to get the three we would need. But a miracle happened about 30 minutes into the game and Australia scored. I will never forget how the crowd erupted with jubilation. It was a raucous sea of sheer jubilation of the magnitude that can’t be described. It was at this point that I started to dream of an Australian berth. The only way we were going to the world cup was if we scored first. We still had work to do and needed another goal and I was beginning to luxuriate in the possibility of Australia qualifying for the world cup right here, right now, in Sydney with me in the stand watching history take place.
In the second half Australia played like a different team. There was a sublime momentum towards the world cup. Our team played like a world class team. Uruguay looked hapless and flat footed. Australia dominated the ground at all corners and they nearly scored that magical second goal on a few occasions. It was missing these crucial opportunities that put us out of the world cup against Iran in 1997 and Uruguay in 2001. I’ve seen it happen so many times where the opposing, and internationally battle hardened team would make the most of a sliver of an opportunity and send a rocket through our spine and destroy our dreams mercilessly. Uruguay had their chances as well and nearly scored a couple of times. Recoba was one on one with Schwartzer but missed a goal that he would usually score.
The crowd were disgusted with the referees decisions and booing occurred on many occasions. The linesmen were being called ‘blindsmen’ and I heard one voice say “the referee might as well be wearing a blue jersey”. It was easy to take a biased view of the referees decisions from way up here in the second row at Telstra stadium and perhaps the analysis would be different from a closer inspection of the play causing the decisions.
The longer the game went the more it looked to favour Australia. Recoba went off the field tired at about the 75 minute mark and Uruguay looked to be running out of wind. The scoreboard still read 1-0 and while Australia was dominating the match Uruguay still only needed one goal. As the 90 minute mark approached closer and closer I knew that any goal from Uruguay would be a knock out punch and all would fall silent in the crowd before the ensuing heartbreak and visible display of despair that could hardly be imagined in a crowd of this size.
The game finished at 90 minutes at 1-0 to Australia. The game went into extra time with 15 minute halves. Once again this game could have fallen to Uruguay in one single stroke but we held their chances and they held ours. Both teams looked close to scoring on a few occasions. Extra time came and went without a goal. Australia successfully held out for 120 minutes without letting Uruguay score their killer punch but they hadn’t won the game as yet. After all those opportunities and the indomitable play by Australia the lack of converting it to a goal meant we were rolling a dice and had a 50/50 chance now. So much was at stake. This country’s entire soccer program was on stake. Qualify and we become soccer mad and soccer gets transformed in this country. Lose and we all witness yet another heartbreaking episode in our quest for an elusive place in the world cup and call it quits for another 4 years while returning to League and Union (and AFL that southern sport in which a League mad Eastern seaboard state has won for the last 4 years).
Kewell started the penalties and scored our first as cool as a cucumber and with the aplomb of a professional. The crowd cheered as loud, if not louder than our first in match goal. We embraced and cheered like old pals. Only a few days ago we were distant coworkers. Now we were embracing and cheering like old mates. The crowd jeered and booed the first Uruguayan who stepped up to take his first penalty. Home ground advantage was present and surely this booing by the full stadium would have a negative effect on the penalty takers from the opposing team. It seemed like divinity was on Australia’s side when Uruguay stepped up to take their first penalty and missed it. The cheering was deafening. From this point it seemed like destiny was willing us in. A couple of more penalties were taken by either side which all went in and we were still 1 up from the first Uruguayan miss. With each penalty Australia scored a huge roar immersed the entire ground. With each Uruguayan goal it was a correspondent “ooh” sweeping the stands.
Viduka stepped up and seemed to throw himself off by baulking at the ball then kicking it missing the goal mouth entirely. This was tension at its highest. I looked around me and anxiety was written on the faces of every supporter around me. People running their hands on their heads, faces in hands, worried looks. The pain was over quickly. Uruguay stepped up for its final penalty and missed it. Australia only needed to pot their last penalty and did it with consummate ease. A continuous and unforgettable roar of jubilation surrounded the ground and the glitter of the green and gold came down from the heavens. The guys and myself yelled until we were hoarse along with everyone else in the ground. We embraced and cheered and danced. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life. As I looked around everyone was in a state of sheer euphoria. It was mass euphoric hysteria. It was unbelievable. Was this really happening? Was I dreaming? Did we really make it into the world cup?
On the field the players were also euphoric. They did a lap of honour while the fans cheered continued on for at least another 10 minutes.
I took one look over at a group of Uruguayan’s not far from us who looked stunned. I filmed them standing there in a stupor. They stood still and stunned and when they moved it was to move out of the row and leave the ground. Aussie fans shook their hands in consolation as they left.
This was just the most amazing thing. How desperately Australia has tried to get into the world cup and how agonizing it has been to avoid qualification by slim margins in the past 8 years.
There were so many reasons why this victory by Australia was all the sweeter.
It was all the sweeter that Australia qualified to get into the world cup by beating the same team that knocked them out 4 years ago, the same team who’s best player remarked days ago that they had a divine right to be in the world cup and Australia didn’t deserve to qualify. The same team that has used every dirty tactic at their disposal to try and rattle our players, particularly in their home country, over the last week.
It was sweeter because this year Soccer Australia formed the A-League to improve the quality of soccer in this country and gather more interest from the public. Between our qualification into the world cup and the commencement of the A-League, soccer has never looked brighter in this country. There won’t be a parent not considering signing up their child to play soccer in the near future. A whole generation of kids will have witnessed the greatness, the grace, the skill and the charisma of this beautiful sport. It was sweeter because it happened here in Sydney and because I was a part of it. I was present at the ground watching history being made. I’ve slumped in despair with everyone else who cared a shred about soccer in Australia at the last 2 world cup qualifiers at this stage where Australia so very nearly did qualify but lost the game in the final 20 minutes. I felt privileged and blessed. This was an amazing moment of grace for the Socceroos and for the country and for everyone who saw it live or on their television sets.
Now Australia gets to play in the world cup. This realization came in waves in that way matters of enormous magnitude, good and bad come to us. After 30 years of contemplating what it would be like if Australia went to the world cup it was difficult to allow the realization that Australia will actually be there register. But it registered in waves and we, like 82,000 others in the stadium erupted in euphoria and madness. Now we get to go to the world cup. We get to see our flag amongst 31 other flags, we get to see which teams we draw in the pools. We get to play the very best on the greatest sporting arena of them all, a rare treat for Australians who have lived in the half competitive world of international friendlies and sub-competitions like the Confederates cup and in the microcosmic Oceania pool playing island nations with cricket scores as results. It’s a tantalizing thought. We might play England, or Italy, or Germany in front of their home crowd.
We remained at the ground for a further half an hour to watch the lap of honour by the players and to see the presentation. I used my video camera quite freely and captured a lot of amazing footage. I had it running during the penalty shootout and the celebrations when we won. I captured amazing footage of human waves and the sea of yellow entering and leaving the ground. I captured individual expressions from Uruguayan’s and Australian’s alike and I captured our own celebration, hugging, cheering, embracing and dancing. By this stage the guys were asking me if I would make them a copy of the video.
Andrew and Mark repeatedly said what an amazing night and life experience this was for them. They thanked me profusely for getting the tickets. The look on their faces imitated what I felt – stark disbelief at the magnitude of what we just experienced and the enormity of the success for the Australian side and it’s effect on soccer in this country. The guys were a little bit drunk and this only made them more expressive of their joy and euphoria.
We left about the time that everyone started to leave and headed for the train station. The cheering and chanting continued outside the ground. It was an unforgettable sight. Groups of people dancing, beating drums and chanting. I saw a flag of Uruguay being beaten with a stick and a chant “you are dead, you are dead, you are dead”.
There was still a large mass of people waiting for the train. We stood closely packed and made our way slowly through the barricades and down the stairs to the waiting trains. The system here at Telstra is amazing. It is evident that this ground was designed to handle huge volumes of people at big events. It has the organisation of a modern Olympic venue. The trains left in 5 minute intervals. By the time I was on one it was after midnight. On the train it continued. People were chanting old songs with revised lyrics. “There is only one Kewell, there is only one Ke-well”.
(Personal diary excerpt 16/11/2005)
All through Town Hall were the obvious bands of supporters donning green and gold, some with flags, others with rubber pointing fingers. The anticipation could be tasted in the air. The sense of occasion pervaded Sydney throughout and it was concentrated on the train with many anticipating the game they were heading towards. Funny remarks and larrikinism were rife on the train with some already a little bit tipsy from their daytime pre-game drinks and day out on the town.
On our way towards Telstra stadium we followed a massive crowd of excitable Aussies. The life factor was off the scale. The sense of anticipation and celebration hung in the air. Yellow shirts weaved a tapestry a mile long. I saw people bathed in yellow paint and others with green and gold hair. I saw one with green and gold chest hair. Others had flags or writing on their Australian shirts. One said “We are too Kewell for Recoba”. I saw Australian’s pointing at a small group of Uruguayan’s saying “You are gay, you are gay, you are gay.” The Uruguayans seemed amused by the gesture and didn’t take offence. I took my camera out for the first time and filmed much of this.
We walked up the spiralling concrete ramp and made our way to our seats. That first image of the stadium filled with people in yellow starting from the roof of the stadium to the box seats 10 metres below was breath taking. I’ve never been to anything of this magnitude.
As kick off time neared things grew more intense and more glorious. A glorious sea of yellow pervaded the crowd. A vulnerable crowd who has seen all this before only to meet with heart ache after the game allowed their unbridled optimism fill their senses as they cheered the team onto the field.
It took for the FIFA tune and the carrying out of the flags of the two nations and the FIFA flag for me to truly understand that this was an international FIFA match. There was no pretence about it. This was the real deal. This was world cup soccer in our country with the kind of crowd that made me think we were in Wembley.
Kick off. My analysis of the situation was that this was sudden death golden goal for the Uruguayan’s and survival for 90 minutes for the Australians. If Uruguay scored the first goal it was over. We would need 3 goals and that seemed like a task that was beyond us. Teams rarely get three goals to win a game. I knew what I wanted in my heart but my head couldn’t deny the obvious dangers and how close we were from elimination right from the start of the game. 82,000 people were cheering and a mass euphoria rode over them all yet one goal from Uruguay could bring it all to a hush. I didn’t allow myself the luxury of dreaming of our berth in the world cup at this stage. I’ve seen too many cruel outcomes for Australia. Destiny is no part of the result of sport, nor is hope or optimism. In the end it’s the brutal, clinical kinetics of what happens on the field and these kinetics, the science of cause and effect is based on the skills and fortunes of the players. The Uruguayans were no strangers to goals and weren’t lacking players. They too were hungry and had their millions expecting them to qualify.
Australia started poorly and looked like a team ranked 54th playing a team ranked 17th. It looked like the paper it was written on. Australia were panicky in midfield and went backwards more than they went forward. The Uruguayans looked fast, nippy on their toes and outran us. Their passing was good and they always looked dangerous. As the clocked ticked on and on that Uruguayan killer goal would kill faster. The later their goal came the less time we would have to get the three we would need. But a miracle happened about 30 minutes into the game and Australia scored. I will never forget how the crowd erupted with jubilation. It was a raucous sea of sheer jubilation of the magnitude that can’t be described. It was at this point that I started to dream of an Australian berth. The only way we were going to the world cup was if we scored first. We still had work to do and needed another goal and I was beginning to luxuriate in the possibility of Australia qualifying for the world cup right here, right now, in Sydney with me in the stand watching history take place.
In the second half Australia played like a different team. There was a sublime momentum towards the world cup. Our team played like a world class team. Uruguay looked hapless and flat footed. Australia dominated the ground at all corners and they nearly scored that magical second goal on a few occasions. It was missing these crucial opportunities that put us out of the world cup against Iran in 1997 and Uruguay in 2001. I’ve seen it happen so many times where the opposing, and internationally battle hardened team would make the most of a sliver of an opportunity and send a rocket through our spine and destroy our dreams mercilessly. Uruguay had their chances as well and nearly scored a couple of times. Recoba was one on one with Schwartzer but missed a goal that he would usually score.
The crowd were disgusted with the referees decisions and booing occurred on many occasions. The linesmen were being called ‘blindsmen’ and I heard one voice say “the referee might as well be wearing a blue jersey”. It was easy to take a biased view of the referees decisions from way up here in the second row at Telstra stadium and perhaps the analysis would be different from a closer inspection of the play causing the decisions.
The longer the game went the more it looked to favour Australia. Recoba went off the field tired at about the 75 minute mark and Uruguay looked to be running out of wind. The scoreboard still read 1-0 and while Australia was dominating the match Uruguay still only needed one goal. As the 90 minute mark approached closer and closer I knew that any goal from Uruguay would be a knock out punch and all would fall silent in the crowd before the ensuing heartbreak and visible display of despair that could hardly be imagined in a crowd of this size.
The game finished at 90 minutes at 1-0 to Australia. The game went into extra time with 15 minute halves. Once again this game could have fallen to Uruguay in one single stroke but we held their chances and they held ours. Both teams looked close to scoring on a few occasions. Extra time came and went without a goal. Australia successfully held out for 120 minutes without letting Uruguay score their killer punch but they hadn’t won the game as yet. After all those opportunities and the indomitable play by Australia the lack of converting it to a goal meant we were rolling a dice and had a 50/50 chance now. So much was at stake. This country’s entire soccer program was on stake. Qualify and we become soccer mad and soccer gets transformed in this country. Lose and we all witness yet another heartbreaking episode in our quest for an elusive place in the world cup and call it quits for another 4 years while returning to League and Union (and AFL that southern sport in which a League mad Eastern seaboard state has won for the last 4 years).
Kewell started the penalties and scored our first as cool as a cucumber and with the aplomb of a professional. The crowd cheered as loud, if not louder than our first in match goal. We embraced and cheered like old pals. Only a few days ago we were distant coworkers. Now we were embracing and cheering like old mates. The crowd jeered and booed the first Uruguayan who stepped up to take his first penalty. Home ground advantage was present and surely this booing by the full stadium would have a negative effect on the penalty takers from the opposing team. It seemed like divinity was on Australia’s side when Uruguay stepped up to take their first penalty and missed it. The cheering was deafening. From this point it seemed like destiny was willing us in. A couple of more penalties were taken by either side which all went in and we were still 1 up from the first Uruguayan miss. With each penalty Australia scored a huge roar immersed the entire ground. With each Uruguayan goal it was a correspondent “ooh” sweeping the stands.
Viduka stepped up and seemed to throw himself off by baulking at the ball then kicking it missing the goal mouth entirely. This was tension at its highest. I looked around me and anxiety was written on the faces of every supporter around me. People running their hands on their heads, faces in hands, worried looks. The pain was over quickly. Uruguay stepped up for its final penalty and missed it. Australia only needed to pot their last penalty and did it with consummate ease. A continuous and unforgettable roar of jubilation surrounded the ground and the glitter of the green and gold came down from the heavens. The guys and myself yelled until we were hoarse along with everyone else in the ground. We embraced and cheered and danced. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life. As I looked around everyone was in a state of sheer euphoria. It was mass euphoric hysteria. It was unbelievable. Was this really happening? Was I dreaming? Did we really make it into the world cup?
On the field the players were also euphoric. They did a lap of honour while the fans cheered continued on for at least another 10 minutes.
I took one look over at a group of Uruguayan’s not far from us who looked stunned. I filmed them standing there in a stupor. They stood still and stunned and when they moved it was to move out of the row and leave the ground. Aussie fans shook their hands in consolation as they left.
This was just the most amazing thing. How desperately Australia has tried to get into the world cup and how agonizing it has been to avoid qualification by slim margins in the past 8 years.
There were so many reasons why this victory by Australia was all the sweeter.
It was all the sweeter that Australia qualified to get into the world cup by beating the same team that knocked them out 4 years ago, the same team who’s best player remarked days ago that they had a divine right to be in the world cup and Australia didn’t deserve to qualify. The same team that has used every dirty tactic at their disposal to try and rattle our players, particularly in their home country, over the last week.
It was sweeter because this year Soccer Australia formed the A-League to improve the quality of soccer in this country and gather more interest from the public. Between our qualification into the world cup and the commencement of the A-League, soccer has never looked brighter in this country. There won’t be a parent not considering signing up their child to play soccer in the near future. A whole generation of kids will have witnessed the greatness, the grace, the skill and the charisma of this beautiful sport. It was sweeter because it happened here in Sydney and because I was a part of it. I was present at the ground watching history being made. I’ve slumped in despair with everyone else who cared a shred about soccer in Australia at the last 2 world cup qualifiers at this stage where Australia so very nearly did qualify but lost the game in the final 20 minutes. I felt privileged and blessed. This was an amazing moment of grace for the Socceroos and for the country and for everyone who saw it live or on their television sets.
Now Australia gets to play in the world cup. This realization came in waves in that way matters of enormous magnitude, good and bad come to us. After 30 years of contemplating what it would be like if Australia went to the world cup it was difficult to allow the realization that Australia will actually be there register. But it registered in waves and we, like 82,000 others in the stadium erupted in euphoria and madness. Now we get to go to the world cup. We get to see our flag amongst 31 other flags, we get to see which teams we draw in the pools. We get to play the very best on the greatest sporting arena of them all, a rare treat for Australians who have lived in the half competitive world of international friendlies and sub-competitions like the Confederates cup and in the microcosmic Oceania pool playing island nations with cricket scores as results. It’s a tantalizing thought. We might play England, or Italy, or Germany in front of their home crowd.
We remained at the ground for a further half an hour to watch the lap of honour by the players and to see the presentation. I used my video camera quite freely and captured a lot of amazing footage. I had it running during the penalty shootout and the celebrations when we won. I captured amazing footage of human waves and the sea of yellow entering and leaving the ground. I captured individual expressions from Uruguayan’s and Australian’s alike and I captured our own celebration, hugging, cheering, embracing and dancing. By this stage the guys were asking me if I would make them a copy of the video.
Andrew and Mark repeatedly said what an amazing night and life experience this was for them. They thanked me profusely for getting the tickets. The look on their faces imitated what I felt – stark disbelief at the magnitude of what we just experienced and the enormity of the success for the Australian side and it’s effect on soccer in this country. The guys were a little bit drunk and this only made them more expressive of their joy and euphoria.
We left about the time that everyone started to leave and headed for the train station. The cheering and chanting continued outside the ground. It was an unforgettable sight. Groups of people dancing, beating drums and chanting. I saw a flag of Uruguay being beaten with a stick and a chant “you are dead, you are dead, you are dead”.
There was still a large mass of people waiting for the train. We stood closely packed and made our way slowly through the barricades and down the stairs to the waiting trains. The system here at Telstra is amazing. It is evident that this ground was designed to handle huge volumes of people at big events. It has the organisation of a modern Olympic venue. The trains left in 5 minute intervals. By the time I was on one it was after midnight. On the train it continued. People were chanting old songs with revised lyrics. “There is only one Kewell, there is only one Ke-well”.
