Christmas Eve came early to this little seven year old kid who never really grew up. The World Cup has always been like Christmas to me. Game after game of football and the chance to see players I’ve never heard of, let alone seen play. But more on that later.
After a lot of logistical challenges, our World Cup has finally taken off so to speak, from Heathrow Terminal 5 via British Airways to Doha. The excitement for me has been building for months, but there has been a smidgen of sadness and regret. This time, given the ridiculously small location that Qatar is, I wanted to go to at least one game a day for as long as possible. I got 12 tickets for 12 consecutive games over 12 days, including England plus what turned out to be legendary games between Japan vs Germany, Argentina vs Saudi Arabia and Japan vs Spain! But I was always taught, ‘never look back, always look forward’, so we have plenty of big games in store for us, of that I am confident.
Whilst I was packing my bag, at the last minute of course, I went through my T shirts visualising which ones to wear at what games. I don’t normally wear football shirts, let alone to games, but I do have a particular favourite, which I bought in Japan at the 2002 World Cup. The number 7 shirt of Hidetoshi Nakata, the captain of Japan and my favourite player at that World Cup. I thought to myself, no, I won’t take that this time, Japan and their wonderful supporters will be headed home by the time we get to Qatar. I duly zipped my bag up and went out the door. I got in the cab and then had an immediate regret. ‘What if Japan did pull off a miracle and qualified for the last 16?’. I jumped out of the cab and went back to my chest of drawers and grabbed my Japan shirt. We were on our way.
Even our cab driver Lenny was excited and her business partner, the Manchester United fanatic Sarah, was even more excited, such is the power of football. We promised to bring back a program for her, and we won’t let her down.
Heathrow was full of fans setting off to Doha. We met Brazilians, Portuguese, English, Spanish and Americans not only sharing the excitement and anticipation, but sharing screens as we watched Costa Rica vs Germany and Japan vs Spain. We were huddled round those phones and iPads all the way onto the aircraft, despite the obvious angst of the airline staff. Another night of legendary football and one we will never forget.
Discussion on the plane turned to the state of the ‘secondary ticketing market’ which was, despite all efforts to make ticketing digital, present and correct Sir, just like it always was and always will be. Some things just never change.
Arriving in Doha after a great flight and some sleep, we sorted out our mobiles and headed into the city. The cab driver was lovely and when he found out we were English, he went to a different level of conversation around football, culture and how much he loved England and Britain for that matter. He had never visited, but felt he knew all about us through TV and films he had seen. That soft power thing again… something our politicians in the UK would do well to remember.
On arrival at our hotel we were greeted by the staff all of whom were exceptionally lovely and warm. That’s the thing in this part of the world, all the workers are like that. And they are always immigrant workers, always professional, always warm and welcoming. Immigrant labour is a big thing in Qatar, immigrants literally do all the manual work. Pay and conditions in Qatar and other states in this region are controversial for sure, not least in the construction sector where health and safety standards are well below standards in the UK if they exist at all. But more on that controversial subject as this odyssey unfolds.
We had to dump our bags, and head into the Souk Waqif to the Al Bandar Cafe to meet the BBC 5 Live Radio interview with the lovely Rick Edwards. That went well purely because the BBC Five Live team are so professional and so much into the football. I was even complimented on the fact that my 20 year old Japan shirt still fitted me, live on air. If you want to, you can hear Kirsty and I from 1.56mins on until 2.00 and then again at 2.21 mins onwards for a few mins here https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001fl14?partner=uk.co.bbc&origin=share-mobile
Headed back to the hotel to check in, we met a load of Brazilian fans. In all my travels to World Cups one thing is a given. Not all Brazilian fans come from Brazil. Brazil is the number one team in world football, it’s Barcelona, Manchester United, Liverpool, Ajax and West Ham all rolled into one. And everyone wants to be Brazil. Remember that.
We decided to find a bar and then head to the fan zone to watch the games which kicked off at 6pm and 10pm local time. That bar ended up being on the roof of our hotel. Beer is not cheap, and we paid about £12.50 a pint, which is extortionate, but this is a Muslim country and alcohol is not a norm. That’s why it is so expensive, that and straight ahead capitalism of course.
The bar was pretty empty, in fact we were the only people in it apart from the staff, but the games weren’t on for a few hours, so that’s to be expected. About 20 mins later, four men came in and ordered some drinks. They say that English, Spanish and Mandarin are the world’s languages, they’re not. Football is. The lads were all Brazilian fans, but as I said earlier, not all Brazilian fans are from Brazil, but these boys ‘sounded’ Brazilian. So I asked ‘where are you from?’ and suggested ‘Rio? Sao Paolo?’. One of the men said ‘no, guess where we are from? We are from Israel’. Immediately Kirsty and I both said ‘we’ve just come back from Israel visiting our friends!’ Within a couple of minutes of exchanging notes so to speak, the older gentleman said ‘what is your friends name?’ I then told him he had a nickname ‘the King of Jerusalem’ only to be told that this man and our friend were boyhood friends from the same part of the world. Literally what are the chances of that???
The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, joy, watching football, and a lot of love. The sheer wonders of life, the random meetings with strangers and those connections which are deeper than you first realise are always there, you just have to take a chance or two to discover them.
At the end of the day, it’s just like supporting Brazil. And even they got beaten in their last group game, by a random Cameroon goal. Anyone who thinks this World Cup is in anyway predictable may want to consider that nothing is written.
Tonight we are off to watch Argentina play Australia and even I may wear my 2010 Brazilian shirt, given it is yellow and green… can you work out who I will be supporting yet?
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