‘January 2011 is the month which will see Australia crowned kings of Asian football in Qatar’ – a bold statement to offer up at the start of a competition (and an article), and one I will stand by, at least until they get knocked out in a semi final penalty shoot out that is.
Aside from the likelihood of Australian success this assertion could offer up another series of questions, such as: why 2011 – as a quadrennial tournament shouldn’t the 2004 event have been followed by competitions in 2008 and 2012? Weren’t the last Championships held in July? Why is it being hosted by Qatar? Isn’t Australia in buy osrsgp Oceania? Do they even play football there? Surely the Japanese or the South Koreans are better?
Some of these issues can be explored by referring to global calendars, unforgiving climates, and financial and political resources. However, the most significant question might concern the very notion of Australian involvement in an event once reserved solely for Asian teams.
We live in a world where residency can be bought, citizenship can be shared, and nationality can be chosen; where international representation in sporting spheres can divide brothers and unite strangers. National identity is adopting increasing fluidity, shaped by market forces, international law and migration patterns.
Continental sporting competitions are no stranger to mobility, or to globalisation. Football confederation events can now see players from Vladivostok compete for a European crown, men from Guadalajara invited to take on the cream of South America, and footballers from Accra win international tournaments in European colours. 2011 could (although it won’t) also see Japan crowned kings of both Asia and South America, after the Japanese accepted an invitation to partake in July’s Copa America in Argentina.
Armed with that frame of reference, the defence for Australia’s move into the AFC and their notable presence at Qatar’s Asian Cup appears more watertight; almost as tight as a pair of Lucas Neill shorts.
Legitimacy aside, Australia are in Qatar, and judging by Monday’s performance in their opening game against India at the Al Sadd stadium, they are here to win the competition. The strongest score line of the event so far might have been achieved against the weakest team in the tournament, but the manner in which Australia eased to the 4-0 victory will make the remaining pretenders to the crown sit up and take notice.
With a forward line that would once have divided Merseyside, first half strikes from Cahill and Kewell set the tone, followed by a goal from Holman, earning Australia an unassailable lead at the interval. With the foot well and truly off the pedal, the team in yellow and green barely left first gear in the second half, settling for the addition of a single goal, courtesy of Tim Cahill, the Everton goal machine (apologies for the contradiction in terms). It was clearly an honour for the Indians to share the same turf as their Australian victors, with both sets of players gracious in accepting the contest’s inevitable conclusion.
Later that evening South Korea stuttered to a 2-1 victory over Bahrain at Al Gharafa. Continuing the theme of the Middle East’s pitiful and the Far East’s unconvincing start to the competition, a late Faouzi Asish penalty could not change the complexion of this otherwise uneventful fixture, which saw the majority of the crowd struggle with fatigue.
Bahrain should have more success against the Indians in the next round of fixtures, which will first see an intriguing contest between Australia and South Korea. Bahraini hopes are set to be dashed with finality in their concluding group game against Australia, with the Koreans undoubtedly subjecting India to a third successive defeat.
My final day in Doha began with the other Korea, in what was unquestionably the least memorable encounter of the tournament. A pitiful crowd of 3,000 attended their goalless draw with UAE. (More people attended non-league Crawley Town’s FA Cup defeat of Derby County later that day in West Sussex).
There were few highlights to relay on the large screen, which are typically employed in this competition merely to display misspelt names of substitutes and massaged attendance figures. With each competing nation referred to by three letters on the adjoining scoreboard, “D” was the letter ominously omitted from DPRK.