It rained, it poured, and Josh Kennedy scored.
As I stood on the sprint platform among the five-deep crowd waiting for a sprint train to Olympic Park, a group of Iraqi supporters started a full throated cheer that was slowly passed along the cold station.
Eventually a group nearer to me took up the call but I couldn’t understand what they were cheering.
Multiculturalism and appreciation for other traditions is one of the things I enjoy about football. Hearing chants in another language was intriguing, so I tried to slide over to speak to a man who appeared to be leading his small group.
Just before I was close enough to speak with him the train pulled in and we all turned our attention to the open doors. Cheer over and no Iraqi song to print on The Roar. But I knew if the local support for the visiting team was anything to go by the Aussies were going to be in for a fight on this night.
Once at the ground I met a few mates in one of the many watering holes open before the game. We sat around chatting about the current trajectory of the Socceroos and reminisced about – what else – that penalty among other things.
I suddenly realised the conversation was very casual, especially once a few people started mentioning contacts at STA Travel that might be able to get them cheaper deals to Brazil in 2014.
Woah! Too soon!
I mentioned the obvious examples of the Socceroos falling short in previous qualifications.
Nervous laughter.
I then thought of a conversation I hate with another Roar football writer who (and he shall remain nameless) admitted he would probably get plastered to help deal with the stress of the “what if?”
He had a point.
My tactic was different. I certainly wasn’t avoiding a drink, but also made sure to eat one of the great BBQ lamb rolls being served by troopers manning the large BBQs in the rain.
It’s easier to hold your nerve when you’ve got something warm in your belly. Liquid fortification only is enough to turn even the most battle hardened sports fan to a weak mess in moments of tension and stress.
I wanted us to go up early and get the youngsters on to pile in more. But I had a feeling. Get something to eat; you’re going to be glad you did later…
As I said on the live blog after the draw with Japan in Saitama: International football is basically the most excruciating thing humans have come up with.
As instructed by the FFA, I arrived at my seat nice and early. Many others did too. The ground was almost full to the brim with plenty of time before kick-off.
What I love about football crowds is the standing sections. I wasn’t far from the active supporter group that was getting things rolling from well before the players took the pitch.
The national anthem was loud. It’s always a good sign when the cheer afterward is as loud as the singing – everybody is feeling very Australian tonight.
Now the actual game.
That’s the thing about international football. Its analysed, dissected, stretched this way and that looking for meaning but then the players run out on the pitch and play for 90 minutes.
The Socceroos started the game really well, the first 20 minutes was all gold.
My man of the match overall, Mark Milligan, was all over the place in midfield, winning balls and spraying them all over the pitch.
His dominance there allowed Robbie Kruse and Tommy Oar to get forward early where Milligan found them again and again. This meant, unusually for the Socceroos, front-men Tim Cahill and Brett Holman had plenty of early touches on the ground.
There was confidence and Iraq was struggling to find theirs.
An early shot on target from Cahill was denied by Noor Sabri, but the feeling was the dominant start from Australia was going to pay off.
Only it didn’t.
After that first period Iraq saw more and more of the ball. They didn’t have as many opportunities as the home side but weren’t letting the ball go in midfield as often – while looking good on the counter – which meant the wide Socceroos weren’t getting forward as fast.
The match wore on in that fashion.
Two times the ball was put in the net but called back. At the ground none of the slightly more controversial moments were replayed on the big screen.
So, from my vantage point a mere 125 metres away I couldn’t see anything wrong with Cahill’s overhead goal. Later on, the second goal was probably only 25 metres from me and without the benefit of hindsight I, along with about 80,000 people, was very adamant 2-0 should have been the score line.
But it wasn’t. And we still weren’t booked into the World Cup finals.
The crowd, while still loud and lustily booing any stalling tactics, started to get nervous. You could feel it and hear it.
“I don’t know if we’re going to score.” I heard someone say in the row behind.
Tommy Rogic, who I was keen to see operate on that night, was brought on. He was strong with the ball but clearly had “I NEED TO SCORE SO WE CAN GO TO THE WORLD CUP FINALS” running through his head and wasn’t able to make the right final touch around the box.
That wasn’t going to work.
With about 10 minutes left, Holger Osieck made the decision that would define his tenure with the national team – he took of Cahill, the man they temporarily named a freeway after (or more fully after since it already incorporates his last name), and replaced him with Josh Kennedy.
Josh Kennedy for our Timmy, in the top few players on the park all night!? The only really big game player who knows how to score in the team?! You’re taking him off?!
You’ve got to be kidding. And that’s what Cahill thought too judging by the facial expressions blown up on the big screen. No friendly cheek clasping from Osieck seemed to calm him down.
Immediately the wingers and midfielders started hitting balls into the box. It was all so obvious and was cut down time and again easily.
Shots were ignored for poor crosses and it looked like it would go horribly wrong again.
Then Kennedy scored.
Queue pandemonium.
That explosion of tension and emotion was astonishing.
He’d done it. Osieck, you’re a genius and I never doubted you!
All they had to do was hold on. And hold on they did. Thanks to some helter skelter defending and luck that a perfectly positioned Iraqi didn’t pull the trigger at goal the final score was Australia 1, Iraq 0.
The new, loud sound system pumped “I go to Rio” into the stadium as an 80,000 strong party broke out.
Lucas Neill smiled, Cahill jumped into the crowd, Kennedy gave an incredibly understated interview, fireworks went off, we qualified for the World Cup and I was there.
[roar_cat_gal]
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