Tuesday 6th December 2022.. later in the day
There is no doubt at all that Argentina and Morocco have the most fans and the most noisiest fans out here in Qatar. We had managed to see Argentina play and we had to admit, we really enjoyed the atmosphere their fans created. Now we had the chance to see Morocco play Spain and we sort of expected that the atmosphere was going to an even better.
This time we had to travel to the Education City Stadium which was a short Metro ride to the west of our base at Doha Old Town. Unlike the two previous games we travelled to, the Metro was packed solid and the atmosphere electric. Just like the Argentina vs Australia game. You could sense the anticipation amongst the Moroccan fans. I felt sorry for the Spanish. They were outnumbered and outgunned.
Education City was another piece of design brilliance and provided the centrepiece of Qatar’s centre of educational excellence. On the way to the stadium we felt a sense of disorganisation for the very first time out here. There were so many Moroccan fans and all in the sort of mood you would normally associate with passionate fans who know they needed to win, otherwise they would be headed home. Headed to the ground, we had to cross a railway line and then pass through lines and lines of police who resembled Robocops. That’s the first time a game had felt like a World Cup game of old.
Because we had been working hard all day to extend our trip and get tickets for the France game we had to rush to eat and get to the game in good time. It was the early kick off game, 6pm local time. Consequently we had not had a chance to change into our rainbow gear. Hey ho. Getting through security would be far easier tonight.
We were lucky to be in the Moroccan end and witness a real clash of cultures. All the Moroccan fans would stand for the whole game, whilst Qataris tried to sit quietly and observe. In the end the Qataris had no choice but to stand up and go with the flow. In the World Cup of coincidences, we happened to be sitting to the exact same lad as we had done the night before at the Japan vs Croatia game. And the American Chinese guy who was obsessed with the game ending in a penalty shoot out.
As an aside, there has been a lot of talk about empty seats. We haven’t seen many, if any. One slightly amusing thing is that when Qataris sit at the match, it can look like the seats are white and empty. Look closely…
The game was intense and noisy the whole way through. I am not sure I’ve been to a game like it, ever. Every time the Spanish got the ball, which was most of the time, the Moroccan fans produced a cacophony of whistles and boos. That was incredibly intimidating. If ever England were to play Morocco, we would have to steel ourselves to face this, and that could get very interesting.
Morocco did not deserve to lose the game. They ran, tackled, headed, threw themselves everywhere and just outcompeted Spain. The game remained 0-0 for two hours and so we had another penalty shoot out to endure. The penalties were to be taken at what was supposed to the Spanish end, yet even that end was stuffed full of Moroccan fans. You just knew it was going to be tough for Spain tonight.
Spain’s penalties were like Japan’s from the night before. Woeful. Morocco’s were exemplary. As the Arabs would say, ‘Inshallah’, it is written. And it was. Morocco won a famous victory, one for Africa and one for Arabs.
There are many things to be aware of out here in Qatar. Whilst everyone is exceptionally polite, Qatari men are culturally more cautious speaking to women than they are speaking to men. I have had plenty of conversations with Qatari men, less so Kirsty. Men will shake hands with men, but it’s a fist bump at best for women. That’s how it is.
Our journey back to base was a lot of fun. Moroccans everywhere were in fine voice and full of joy. I did say to Kirsty, ‘I wonder what this lot would be like if they lost!’ We wanted to see the Portugal vs Switzerland game on the TV. So we tried the ‘Irish Bar’ in the hotel next to us. That was a typical football bar, full of all sorts of fans but it seemed that literally everyone was smoking. We bumped into Aussie Glen who we’d met earlier and he introduced me to his Brazilian mate, Carlos. When I named the 11 players who played in the World Cup winning Brazilian team in 1970, Carlos embraced me and said ‘you are now my brother, will I see you in 2026?’ I said ‘Inshallah’.
At half time I said to Kirsty ‘let’s go to the sports bar in our hotel’, as I was getting a tad bored in the one we were in. We were in two minds about that bar, given that it felt a bit weird. Tonight it was a different kettle of fish. There were loads more people in the bar for a kick off and there was some atmosphere too. At the end of the game, we were treated to an Indian DJ who played some proper floor bangers. Fast forward 15 minuets and were singing, dancing, embracing and hugging with a load of Moroccans. They bought us drinks and refused to take any back. That is the sort of thing that can happen at World Cups. Long may it continue!
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