Iraq's glorious inspiration

We scarcely knew it as we watched. But when Iraq's players celebrated their first goal of the Asian Cup, against Thailand back in the first round, they went into a kangaroo hop chorus line, signalling 'up yours' Australia and that they had serious intentions.

Vince Grella found it objectionable. But a deeper think into the why would reveal that the caricature antic was symptomatic of a supreme inspiration that was the petrol of Iraq’s ultimate, historic triumph.

In the first instance Iraq’s contempt for Australia had been provoked, not just by Australia’s chest-beating confidence in winning the tournament, a notion backed by the bookmakers. That was provocation enough.

But it was more what Australia represented: a stable and peaceful, economically prosperous country, which, rather than minding its own business, chose to align itself with a stupid military adventure that now leaves Iraq as a colosseum of death and carnage.

If ever there was a perfectly sculpted football enemy for Iraq, Australia was it.

Let us not forget it. These Iraqi players scarcely have a home to which they can safely return. Many have had close relatives murdered in the invasion’s aftermath. The civil war and dangers at home left them having to prepare in foreign Jordan, under a coach who met them less than two months before the tournament.

Perfect preparation was never going to be their cushion of ambition and the tool of their victory.

The only means they had were individual ability, the capacity of their coach to harness it at short notice and, above all, spiritual inspiration. The Iraqi victory was in the end a lesson for us all: that naked inspiration, team unity of purpose and a clever coach who can sense and exploit his players’ inner stimulation can triumph even over enemies with much more professional, meticulous and so called modern preparedness.

And it is a good thing, too. This was a fairy tale victory and football desperately needs its fairy tales.

Of course the Iraqis were no saints or virgins. They engaged in gamesmanship whenever opportunities arose, including the kangaroo hops. When captain Younis Mahmood was booked for diving in the final he tried to intimidate the referee by threatening to take the team off the field (to which the referee responded: ‘Go ahead, be my guest’ or words to that effect).

But these were attempts to rise to some sort of ‘professional’ level of expediency and chicanery, something these players were not very expert at and their naïve efforts ended up being silly, ineffective sideshows. They had nothing to do with the end game.

In any case, Grella should not have been so shocked, living as he does in Europe where this stuff is an every week thing and rather more cleverly practised.

By the time Iraq got to the final the world was with them. Jakarta became a hub of statements. Outside my hotel, late on the afternoon of the game, a small band of protestors marched noisily in some sort of support for an Iraqi political cause. At the stadium the neutral Indonesians pumped their support in waves and rhythms of noise for Iraq. Islam had nothing to with it. The Saudis are muslim, as are the Indonesians, as is Iraq. This was a rare chance to hail heroes and the only likely heroes were the Iraqis.

It was a glorious occasion. Glancing around after the final whistle one could only see smiles. It had been a famous day and all who had witnessed it could only savour it. As an emotional experience the 2007 Asian Cup final was up there with the best and most delicious that football, and sport, could offer.

Last year’s World Cup final, between Italy and France, was a nothing compared to this, but then it was between two powerhouses of football and was hardly likely to be flavoured by romance. Its only potentially romantic element was the triumphant farewell of Zidane but that prospect disappeared in the player’s self-destruction.

The air of global politics hovered over the game as all neutrals cheered for an Iraq victory. It is the least we the helpless, who have no telephone lines to the politicians, the generals and the suicide bombers, could do for the people of that tragic land.

Once again sport, and football in particular, demonstrated its awesome powers as a catalyst for unity and harmony, something grown men who engineered and continue to foster the killing fields of Iraq obviously do not have.

When will they ever learn? When will they take heed of such lessons dished out by a bunch of humble young men?

top