MY WCQ

[yellowforever]

I'm sure that their will be plenty of threads and posts regarding the WCQ game but I thought I'd share my thoughts and experience.

I had awesome tickets on half way in row 26. Damien Lovelock was a few rows in front as were some Swans players. Vidmar of Adelaide City was behind me and the a few of the SBS crew were also floating about.

My biggest nightmares came true, when 2 Uruguayan fans sat down next to my mate, and even worse 5 Jets supporters sat down to my right. After a few words I made a truce with the Jets supporters and vented our words to the Uruguayans to the left of us, "We hate you cause your from Uruguay!"

I sat in disbelief as I saw our boys come out to soak up the atmosphere only for them to booed by the crowd (last time they'll wear blue and white tracksuits), finally the crowd realised it was Dukes and crew and gave them the cheer they deserved.

I then sat watching Recoba gloat in front of the crowd while the highlights of the first match were played on the screen.

Then one of the most memorable parts of the night. I give credit to every Aussie fan that booed and whistled during the Uruguayan National Anthem, it sounded great and you would not even have known the anthem was being played. I read a letter in todays telegraph critising our rudeness....they did it to us, they deserved it, and I wanted to show my disrepect to them

When the goal was scored I was jumping around so much I fell into the row behind, was picked up and hugged by total strangers, continued to jump around and then fell over into the row infront. Delirious with joy but Unco!

At half time I pointed at Adelaides, Vidmar and chanted "Mariners, Mariners", pointing to my hat, then remembered they beat us when he gave me a cheesy grin and the thumbs up.

I knew we had won when Recoba came off, it was awesome to watch him storm down the tunnel.

The penalties were high, high, high, low, high, low, low, high, delirious. I didnt see the boys running towards me as I was too busy jumping, hi-fiving, hugging, and strangley being punched in the stomach by the guy in front of me (his weird way of celebrating).

The next day we had a mad, at times fearful drive to the Domain, and it was worthwhile to get the signatures off Covic, Thwaite, Milicevic, Skoko, Neil, Cahill and the comeback king Kewell.

My shirt is going straight to the pool room. To me, its priceless and I cant wait to get it frame, BO and all (and a tiny meat pie stain).

Thats my WCQ experience in a nut shell, its hard to say its the best event in my life, but it is without doubt the best sporting experience ever. The crowd and atmosphere was undescribable. Ive been to ARL Grand Finals with 110 000, the MCG, Stamford Bridge, and Villa Park, and the atmosphere in the places does not compare to what I witnessed on Wednseday night. The TV coverage does not give it credit.

My throat still hurts, and my wallet is about $500 short, but it was worth it, an amazing night!

Yellow Forever!!

[MrCelery]

Nice one Yellowforever. It has inspired me to do the same:

My World Cup qualification story - A Marinators tale

My travels on the road to Germany ’06 started, like a number of my vintage, in 1973. Listening to a crackly radio set, as Jimmy McKay sent a rocket into the net against South Korea in Hong Kong. That goal, after another long campaign that also went down to virtually the last possible kick, saw us euphorically going to Germany in ’74. The seeds were sown, there was no escape now. The football disease I already had, being of English and Dutch parentage, but this time my heart and soul were Australian.

And so it stayed, despite the agonies over the next 31 years,

My World Cup ‘06 qualification experience for that November ’05 day started badly at work when my boss called a snap teleconference timed just when I was planning to hop on a train from Newcastle – destination Homebush (and a place in Germany ‘06). I pleaded with him by e-mail, and he rang me to say “Get going – meeting can wait”. An AFL fan, he was cool enough to know the odds of an Aussie victory, but was still looking to place a bet. He asked me whether Kewell would ‘come good’. I said that he was due a big game, and he is a big game player. But I was putting my faith in two other players - Mark Schwarzer, because having been at the previous qualification against Canada, I knew he had the pedigree, and would be invaluable in penalties. And Marco Bresciano, because I said that from the day he put on the Socceroo shirt, he had impressed me with his ability to ‘sniff out’ goals, and his ‘give it all’ attitude. Am I very proud of that predicition? – you betcha!

Running for the train, I found the platform at the station already resounding to the sounds of football conversation. Not the knuckle-dragging Newcastle Knights version – real football! This is how it should always be.

The weather looked very ominous, with big storms predicted, but it cleared up beautifully for the match.

The trip to Sydney was loooong, via Hornsby, St Leonards (to drop some gear off at a friend’s apartment), and on to Lidcombe and the Stadium Express. I was wearing my fans apparel, consisting of one yellow and one green sock, my recycled ’98 Iran T-Shirt bought at the MCG and used again in ‘02’, my Iran ‘House of MarinerMick' flouro jumpsuit (regulation white spraypainters lightweight coveralls, sprayed with flouro green and gold paint), and a green and gold wig left behind by a disgruntled fan at the end of the MCG Iran match.

I stopped off for a quick pint or three at the Homebush Bay Brewery, and moved into the stadium through the thick crowds bedecked in green and gold.

I was given one of the great green and gold flags (well done to whoever organised those) in Bay 118 behind the goals housing the Sydney FC, Marinators, Bay 23, Fanatics, and Green & Gold Army fans.

Met up with fellow Marinators supporters AuburnMariner, WyomingTiger, a sick looking Kevrenor (just out of surgery), and a bunch of others.

Cheered (not booed - as some did) the Socceroos at warm up. Stood in a looong slooooow line for beers when the multi-beer pump machine decided not to work.

Soaked up all the pre-match entertainment, including the deafening roar and booing that accompanied the national anthems. Standing there with 82, 000 fans, another 15, 000 outside and 20 million watching at various locations around the country, including live in the land of my mother (Netherlands) was spine chilling. I nearly wept then and there.

Helped, along with hundreds of others, to unfurl the huge banners of the Socceroo shirt, and later the Aussie flag.

The game was a sum of parts. With the Socceroos very nervous in the first half hour. The introduction of Harry Kewell saw an immediate lift in both team and crowd. The scrappy goal that rocketed into the net from Marco Bresciano’s boot had ‘Cop that Uruguay!’ written all over it. I recall an over enthusiastic fan flying past my left ear as he ‘crowd surfed' about ten rows before disappearing into the heaving mass of jubilant fans. Every one screaming, chanting, hugging, jumping, waving flags, kissing, etc. From there it was nearly all the Socceroos. They were impressively dominant apart from the odd danger from Recoba, who bombarded (ultimately fruitlessly) Schwarzer’s goal mouth.
While totally dominant, we just couldn’t breach the Uruaguay defence. Our attempts to mimic Recoba failed miserably, with far to many crosses pumped into the box within easy reach of their goalkeeper.

Half time was uneventful, with the stadium seemingly pausing to draw it’s collective breath from a constant barrage of singing and chanting.

The extra time period was a see-saw fairly even contest, but it appeared to me that the Aussie’s did not look tired, whereas the Uruguayan’s looked very sluggish. “Was the luxury of the chartered plan really going to pay off?” I asked. The two, fifteen minute periods went by in a flash, with the decider on penalties seemingly inevitable.

Someone read coach Guus Hiddink’s mind and suggested that Schwarzer should be replaced by Kalac in goals for the penalties. I replied “No [expletive deleted] way! Kalac is a [expletive deleted] butter-fingers!”. As it turned out, we’d already used up all subs so it was a moot point.

The full moon came out. Was that really Johnny Warren looking down on us, bathing the stadium in his glow? It was a surreal time, and anything was likely it seemed, even - dare we dream? - a Socceroo victory? It also seemed just as likely that the football gods would make us fail with the last possible penalty kick, as further cruel bitter reward for us daring to dream.

So, to penalties. The temptation to not watch was extremely strong, but to do that would have been the coward’s way out. In any case, the whole campaign had been one of grim determination. The logo ‘Destiny 06’ said it all, as there was a feeling in the air of ‘Not this time, no way are we letting it slip through our fingers again’.

The Marinators locked arms in unison across the bay, in solidarity. I noticed later on TV the Aussie bench did the same.

And we waited.

Harry - with the coolest kick, settled the nerves a fraction. The roar was stupendous.
Their first kick was accompanied by a massive sea of yellow flags and a deafening roar in an attempt to put off the kicker. It did, to an even louder roar. Schwarzer – you’re a god!
Lucas Neill and Tony Vidmar took theirs with great confidence, as did the Uruguayan’s.

So to Mark Viduka, the captain. Surely his kick would virtually seal it for us with only three kicks to follow. Not to be. The crowd was in agony, the old doubts resurfacing.

But then there was Schwarzer, in what will go down without a doubt as the most technically brilliant save off a well taken penalty, and a save that sent the crowd absolutely mental. But there was little time to prolong the cheers, as up stepped John Aloisi to either finish off a 31 year mission, or possibly plunge the country into despair (again).

The grips of the locked arms were tighter still as we all seemed to lean forward, willing the ball make the net bulge and send the country beserk. Looks of grim determination were all around. A subdued roar from the crowd – enough to tell John we were behind him all the way, enough to let the goalie know that this is a missile on it’s way marked ‘I told you so’.

The result we all know. The resultant roar lifted the roof and shook the foundations. I've been to many big matches over the years. A World Cup final, internationals in England and Australia, Premier League, Serie A, and European Cup matches, but none came close to the volcano that erupted in Telstra Stadium, not by a long, long shot. The sheer joy, relief, and release of pent up emotion, took this moment to absolutely another level entirely. Most fans around me were crying madly, some on their knees, as if praying. There was hardly a dry eye in the place. There was a total riot of mass hugging, high fives, and handshakes, that went on and on and on. The look on Kevrenor’s face was the best of all, but I’ll bet it was a mirror to the way most of us were feeling – the look of total relief that the hoodoo was over, the satisfaction of a job well done, the memory of all the agonies behind us at last, the realisation that ‘well bugger me, we actually did it this time!’, the humility of taking the time to think ‘Johnny, this is for you’.

The crowd refused to leave, even after the presentation of the players wearing their ‘Never say never’ T-Shirts. Some fans took the time to light up a ‘funny fag’, no doubt to calm their nerves, after that nail-biting effort. I took copious lung fulls!

I wandered aimlessly around with the Marinators fans outside the stadium, and made our way slowly down to the station. Got seperated, but I think the Marinators were mostly heading to Strathfield and points north, while I was heading into the city.

The city was awash with fans roaming around, singing, hugging, chanting, waving flags, racing cars, tooting horns, getting drunk. I soaked it all up for a few hours before collapsing at a friend’s place in St Leonards.

Next day I spent the morning in the city, sipping coffee to ease the pain of my destroyed voice box (still wrecked three days later), and reading the papers packed with football stories. Nirvana. Could not focus on any non-football conversation, as my head was totally spinning – reliving all the highlights over and over again in my mind or talking them out with people near me, each time with tears of joy welling up and threatening to embarrass me.

Walked around the city centre –everywhere there were Socceroo shirts, scarfs and flags.

Wandered down to the Domain in the hot sun and spent a very pleasant hour milling about with thousands of fellow supporters, and meeting the assembled squad under a huge banner ‘We are going to Germany’.

The nicest touch of all was a little old lady quietly holding up a black and white photo of Johnny Warren. Her dignified manner, around such madness was just as John would have behaved.

The only sadness of this magnificent moment was the John could not be here in person. I would have loved to see Johnny’s reaction as the Aloisi goal hit the back of the net. It would have been priceless. Would have remained calm? Or would he have ‘gone mental’ as most of us had? Sadly we will never know.

Looking around the large crowd that day, you could not be untouched by the sheer joy and enthusiasm of the children there. In them, I saw myself again back in ’73 as a child, completely bitten by the Socceroo bug as a result of the Australian’s qualification to the greatest tournament on the planet for the greatest game in the world.

I hope this generation of our young football fans will also carry the torch of fanatical vocal football support as I and others have done. If so, football as a major code in Australia is ensured. I just hope that they do not have to wait as long again as we have, for a taste of the sweetest fruit of all.

PS. I think I need a Doctor. I'm still rewinding and replaying the magic moments over and over late at night. Partly through joy, and partly to just make sure that it has not been all a dream. Is there such a thing as football psychosis?

[jollyroger]

Good Thread,

There is not much that can be said that hasn’t already been said about Wednesday night apart from personal experiences of the evening. My personal observations were similar to yours but generally as follows;

I arrived early to the stadium at about 5.30pm. Even at this time there was a sea of people out the front of the stadium. I looked up at the Novatel hotel and saw that virtually every balcony had groups of people wearing the yellow shirts, drinking the amber fluid, and watching what was going on below.

Got something to eat, and walked into the stadium and found my seat. Watched the uraguayans do the pre match walk around while the game one highlights were shown. Jumping all over each other when the goal highlights came on.

I saw our boys come out and get booed too, but as you say, it was a case of mistaken identity. The players got a laugh out of it. I am not sure who it was but someone unzipped there tracksuit top to reveal an Aussie emblem on the undershirt. At about the same time the stadium cameras focused on them. The boo suddenly changed to a massive cheer.

At this time there was only about 15000 – 20,000 in the stadium and my mate and I commented on how loud it was.

I booed at the uruguayan national anthem and have no regrets. A reasonable response given the blatant disrespect they showed us at the beginning of the first game. It was almost amusing to see the stadium cameras focused on the guy who was singing the anthem. I can still see the desperation on this guy’s face and the veins in his neck as he shouted into the microphone trying to penetrate the crowd. At one point I thought he was going to give up.

Aussie anthem was great and sung loud by everybody. A mate of mine commented on how loud it was coming through the TV back home.

Recoba was getting jeered down constantly as he walked to the corner flag to take the corners. The whole corner of the stadium was pointing and shouting at him as he walked over to take the corner. I never once saw him lift his head up and look into the crowd.

A mate of mine was jumping up and down on his seat when the goal was scored. His seat broke, and he carried the broken piece home with him as a souvenir of the night. He is getting the seat mounted along with his ticket to hang in his rumpus room.

Nothing much else can be said about the rest of the game that hasn’t already been said.

Leaving the stadium everyone was singing, It didn’t seem to bother anyone that we had to wait so long for trains. 10,000 all lined up at the front of the Olympic Park train station at 11.55 p.m. and some city rail monkey makes the announcement that the last service leaves at 12.05am. The crowd breaks into song “Bullshit”, “Bullshit”, “Bullshit”.

Finally got back to unima and went to bed at about at 3.00am still buzzing………
.

[omni]

Never been so proud to be an Aussie as I was with the Marinators arms linke watching the shoot-out and the victory.

Taking one of those big yellow flags home was awesome too, I'll be taking that to any Aussie sporting event.

[MrCelery]

A good idea of what it was like in the stadium:

www.footballoz.com/video/Socceroos/Destiny06.html

And some radio coverage: www.abc.net.au/reslib/200511/r64630_178458.mp3

[Pete]

I spent the Wednesday at home, the calm before the storm so to speak.
At work the 2 days previous, my workmates had pessimistic words about the defeat in Uruguay, but I sured up the odds in favour of Australia. I offered the view that Tim Cahill hadn't been used at all in Montevideo, so there was one 'big occassion' player fresh. Also said that the Uruguayan goal was against the general run of play at the time, Australia at that point of the match were controlling very well in the midfield. The second half proved that the Uruguayans had trouble breaching our goal, we were backs to the wall and held them out. To me, it looked good for Sydney. Also Kewell had played 90 minutes for the first time in ages, and if he pulled up well, the run would have boosted his confidence.
So onto Sydney, Uruguay had a terrible trip out from what I read. Economy class does not put you in a great frame of mind for high intensive football in 3 days time.
I got on the train and met up with Omni and Murphes at the Gosford railway barrier. Needed to find an ATM, so scooted out nearby and found the only ATM wouldn't accept my card! Rushed back to train and just made it. Stayed with Omni and Murphes until my mate got on the train at Woy Woy, and by then the train was beginning to look like a Socceroo express. We got some seats up stairs and my mate settled down to a snooze as he had come off night shift and barely 4 hours sleep. These signs weren't looking good.
We all got to Strathfield to find a huge crowd on the platform and we managed to get on the second train. We tried to get into the Brewery but they had just closed the gates (damn).
Dave and I wondered around to Gate G and noticed the number of TV crews taking quotes from fans. I was peeved that Ch 9 had the audacity to be there and let one of the field producers know ( no support for football, little acknowledgement of the A-League). Into the stadium we took our seats in Bay 116, row 16, after figuring out which way the numbers went!
We had heard the roar from the crowd when Australia came out for warm up, but wasn't aware the boos were for them too - mistaken for Uruguay. Got seated to see Viduka on screen with a big grin on his face looking at the crowd, another Socceroo next to him pointing out the banners.
Then Adam Spencer did his warm up, and the scene was set for the match.
When the teams came out I could not believe the roar.
Even more deafening was the booing the Uruguayan national anthem got. I normally would not have thought this a good thing to do, but seeing Uruguay had been conniving and dare I say it, cheating in the last 2 campaigns, I took relish in giving it to them too. They had faced our direction (for their flag?), and all of us gave them the worst gestures we could think of and the language was positively blue. The goalie, who was closest, did shift his feet and seemed a little perturbed by it.
My mate, Dave suggested that we had probably made the front page of the Ururguayan news services for that, but I said to him: You Beauty, they f**** well deserve it.
The match started out tentatively and the Uruguayans seemed to pick up from where they left off in Montevideo. But we sensed there was some resignation from them. Recoba's free kicks and corners were met with significant abuse from those near to him on the sideline, but with all the aggressiveness of the crowd, I was surprised no one jumped the fence to have a go at him (10 points to football fans there).
The game started to swing our way a bit, the Uru's shots at goal were wide or over, Recoba's moves were being covered. The Popovic got a little heated and belted him over the nose and got himself a yellow. Good move by Guus to bring on Harry.
As soon as Harry got on the midfield lifted for Australia. Previously Culina and Cahill had been holding their own, with Emerton making some runs. Now having to contend with Kewell, the Uru's got a bit flustered.
Viduka, as my mate Dave pointed out, was in the centre front and keeping 2 defenders on him. He's such a big guy they had to or risk him busting loose.
Then finally, the break came. Kewell probably mistimed a kick which fluffed up into the air a little and allowed Bresciano to stretch across and plant the ball into the goal firmly. GOAL to Australia. The stadium erupted, not that it had been at all quiet to this stage, but it went off big time then. I jumped up and down in front of my seat and unceremoniously slipped of the step and crashed to the ground. Bugger, I had twisted my ankle. By this stage I had consumed 4 beers and was thankful for this anaethestic! When I got helped to my feet I had the horrible feeling of my ankle swelling and the tingles of the nerves. It felt like so many ankle injuries I had done before so I initially wasn't worried. After a spell sitting down, I was right by halftime.
The match then turned into a wait. Wait to see if Australia could score again, wait to see if our luck held out. The noise was deafening at times, you could see the Uru's getting tired, and then Recoba came off. Good riddance. Then a little while later their captain came off. Luck was with us. They had used up their replacements before us and now facing extra time. We had an advantage.
Kewell was becoming dominant in his position and causing heartaches for the defenders. When he ran up the sidleine with the ball the crowd would rise as he came past, very impressive for the support. Timmy Cahill was getting into the 6 yard box and calling for headers. Crosses were starting to come in. Emerton and Grella , I think, had shots at goal from outside the penalty box. It seemed a matter of time before we'd geta second. But it didn't happen.
Then came the shootout. Everyone held their breath, then got on with the task of getting this Socceroo side over the line with our support. The Uru's were greeted with booing and gesturing when they took their turns, and Schwarzer was made a hero for 2 great saves. Aloisi sealed the win and the crowd went ape. Despite calls over the PA to get to public transport ASAP, no one was leaving. We all sang "Down Under" and cheered the team as they did their victory lap. People were sitting down as it all sunk in. I had to sit down too as memory of my Dad and his saying that Australian Soccer, as it then was known, would one day jump up and become the giant in Australia sport it should be. I quietly gave thanks to him in my seat and thought it ironic that I had copped an ankle injury at this match. Bresciano was under a cloud with one too, and my football playing days were peppered with ankle injuries so it seemed almost appropriate! But damn the ankle was sore.
The way home was a nightmare. Waiting in line for the train proved pointless, and they announced there was only 1 train left at 12-05 and there were still 1,000s waiting to get into the station. We decided to leg it.
Walked, or rather hobbled, thru Bicentennial Park to Concord West and tried to catcha cab. No luck there so started heading towards Burwood. Luckily there was a Nightrider bus comig our way, and we bussed it to Strathfield. We caught the 1:46 from Central like so many other coasties, and said good night to my mate at Woy Woy. He was buggered.
I stayed on the train, and got to Wyong later and waited an eternity for a cab. But I wasn't going home, but to Wyong Hospital to get this damned ankle checked out. I didn't have any bandages at home and wanted to make sure there wasn't any breaks. It didn't feel broken but the long walk had made it swell quite badly.
After initial checking by the resident M.O. he informed me that radiology won't be open til 9 AM and could I come back? So into another cab and home by about 4:45.
I slept on the couch til 9AM and got up to a hell of a pain in the ankle. Rang a cab (couldn't drive) and got an X-ray. Luckily no breaks, but the swelling was a worry. Home to get the ice going,a nd try to get some sleep. No luck the pain was killing me everytime I put the foot down.
So for the last 3 days I have been lying on the couch with my left foot elevated, and taking the odd painkiller. Haven't been to work since Tuesday, which is going to cost me plenty. Been ordering in some pizzas as I can't stand long enough to cook. Managed to see a dr. on Saturday. He reckons the ankle won't be right for 6 weeks, but I won't be fit for work til 27 November. He gave me a second certificate to continue on from the Hospital's one. I am desperate to get to work ASAP, as too long a break will mean I won't get any money (no sick leave), but I think I may have to bide my time and wait til the 27th. I have til this Tuesday to decide whether I can get to work. Driving a bus isn't the issue, they are automatic, but my own car is a manual and holding down the clutch is a bitch. We'll see.
For all this inconvenience, tho, I am smiling, having witnessed the best game of football Australia has staged. The injury I have is not going to rate a mention after a while, but I know my memory of the match will be with me for a long time.

[shelleybeach]

these are great to read, top stuff