November 16, 2005.
What a night! It is one I will never forget for as long as I live.
I was one of the lucky few to be inside ANZ Stadium that evening and it remains my greatest sporting moment.
I’ve been lucky enough to witness some special sporting events. I’ve been to World Cups, NRL and AFL Finals, I’ve witnessed English Premier League games, Asian Cup finals, big Boxing and UFC fights, but frankly nothing comes close.
In 2005 I was just 18 years of age, only a few months out of high school and working part-time at Target whilst taking the first steps in my media career.
Tickets to the match took a fair chunk out of my minimal wages, but looking back now, they are priceless. Even being part of the ‘football family’, I could only manage to secure seats most commonly known as ‘nosebleed’, in fact, they were literally three rows from the highest point of ANZ Stadium.
The seats were so bad my father, with whom I’ve experienced all my previous Socceroo heartache decided not to attend, he said he would watch from home.
I asked him as I was writing this article whether he regrets that decision. He tells me he doesn’t, but I say secretly it’s one he has regretted ever since.
Instead I attended the game with two of my best mates, and it is a memory we will have for life.
I took a piece of my father with me to the game, as I was wearing his old Socceroo jersey; you know that finger painting design from the early 1980s that is considered the worst of all-time?
As soon as we found our seats, you could tell this night was going to be very different. The crowd was in full voice already and we were still a fair way from kick-off.
‘Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole…. Aussie, Aussie” rang around the stadium.
This was a different crowd than I’d ever experienced before at a Socceroo match, and trust me I’d been to a few before 2005.
My first memory of World Cup heartbreak was 1993. I was still very young, but I remember the buzz around Maradona and Argentina coming to the SFS.
We were heroic home and away, but just fell short after a gallant performance in the return leg in Buenos Aries.
Iran 1997. That’s another night I will never forget. We we’re off to France 98 and then we weren’t. We were so dominant in that first half hour; it could have been 5-0. It would end 2-2
Kharim Bagheri and Khodadad Azizi. The two Iranian goal scorers. It’s a trivia question I will know the answer to for life.
I remember 2001 at the MCG. Paul Agostino winning a penalty and Kevin Muscat winning 1-0.
A week later, I was late for school, watching Uruguay do us 3-0 in Montevideo.
But something about 2005 was different.
The evidence of that was during the national anthem, where the Australian crowd booed the Uruguayan anthem.
Some said booing the anthem was wrong and unsporting. I loved it.
Now, booing the opposing nation’s anthem happens a lot in football, in fact the Uruguayan fans did exactly the same to the Australian anthem in the first leg in Montevideo.
Oh, and they even spat at the Socceroos at the airport and tormented the players at the hotel by tooting their horns and letting off sirens as they slept.
Booing the anthem was a substantial shift by an Australian crowd. We were no longer going to sit back and take it. It showed we were up for the fight as well, and I’m sure the players got a kick out of it too.
The most memorable aspect of the game was of course the fact Harry Kewell was left on the bench by Guus Hiddink. Kewell would of course enter the game for Tony Popovic after about 30 minutes, and given Kewell’s pass/miss kick set up Mark Bresciano for the opening goal, it is seen as a master stroke.
Hiddink was arguably the biggest difference in the Socceroos of 2005. He gave them belief and we stood taller with the Dutchman behind us. John O’Neill’s time in football was relatively short, but his move to land Hiddink is probably the single biggest coup in Australian football history.
Thinking back now and trying to reflect on moments in the game, much of the 90 minutes is a blur of nervous energy. Uruguay having won the first leg 1-0 only needed a goal and they’d go through, and I remember Alvaro Recoba going really close with a long range chip. Other than that most of the game was watched through my hands.
The penalty shootout remains vivid though and those saves of Mark Schwarzer’s are some of the best you will ever see.
I remember my Dad telling me stories of Jimmy Mackay’s goal that got the Socceroos to the 1974 World Cup when I was a child and I imagine telling my own children one day of Schwarzer’s heroics.
We were nearly there.
Only for Mark Viduka to spray his penalty wide. VIDUKA!! Our captain on the night and one of our greatest ever exports.
But Schwarzer would save the day again, and what a save!
We obviously all know that John Aloisi would put Australia into its first World Cup finals in 32 years, burying his penalty with aplomb.
He’s probably thankful Viduka missed the penalty in a way, as with all due respect, he’d probably not quite be as iconic as he is now, and I’m sure ‘that penalty’ has brought in the odd endorsement or two.
In the stadium, the moment that Aloisi’s penalty hit the back of the net, it was delirium. I remember jumping all over my mates, hugging a random stranger next to me and signing ‘Land Down Under’ several times.
That night would see us go on a magical ride with the Socceroos throughout the 2006 World Cup which would see more memorable moments, and feats we’ve yet to see repeated in South Africa 2010 or Brazil 2014.
But that moment in 2005 is special for a bigger reason.
I’ve been a football fan all my life. I was born into a love of the game, passed down by my father. I was in Italy for the 1990 World Cup and remember cheering on Italy all the way to the final in 1994. My idol as a kid was Roberto Baggio (don’t mention the penalty).
Sure, I always cheered on Australia, but moments of cheer were few and far between. Even when we’d beat the likes of Fiji, New Caledonia and American Samoa.
I’d followed the NSL, as a Marconi supporter, and witnessed Grand Finals with less than 10,000 people. I saw some great times, but there were a lot of the bad times as well.
I often wonder where the game would be now had we not suffered the heartache of 1997 and gone to the World Cup in France.
I was told a story recently where the Socceroos apparently had to break in to St George Stadium in Sydney to train before the 1997 World Cup qualifiers, as Soccer Australia couldn’t afford to lease a ground. The precinct was in that bad a condition that the bus driver refused to drop the players at the main gate, forcing them to walk.
Seeing the rise of football since ‘that night’ in 2005, we’ve come a long way.
The A-League has its issues, but it’s still early days. The Socceroos are on the way up again and junior participation continues to rise, particularly through the women’s game.
One night ten years ago changed everything.
It is a night that will be with me forever, the night football truly arrived in Australia.
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