The Sun-Herald

Friday, June 29, 2007

In Asia, we sure look funny

So we're playing in the Asian Cup but when will we see Asians playing for Australia?

This is a question more about Australia's own national identity than Football Federation Australia's youth development program but an issue underlined at a recent Asian Football Confederation knees up in Kuala Lumpur.

A group of us, from countries all over "Asia", were waiting for a cab to take us to dinner somewhere.

"Hello to the funny-looking Asians!" said the guy from Malaysia, laughing, by way of introduction.

The cab, (actually a mini-bus) was shared by others from Japan, Singapore, India, and Lebanon.

We swapped business cards, as you do a lot in Asia, and talked about Australia's recent membership of the AFC.

So, as Australia embarks on its first Asian Cup adventure, the make up of our squad is interesting.

As Lucas Neill has rightly pointed out, the Socceroos are without argument, the most diverse and representative of our population of all Australia's national sporting teams.

European heritage has, unsurprisingly, been well represented in the past. In the '60s and early '70s most players in the national team were born outside of Australia.

Since then, however Australian-born players like Eddie Krncevic, Charlie Yankos, John Kosmina, John Markovski, Ahmed Elrich, and Stan Lazaridis all pulled on the green and gold shirt.

But until maybe even 2005, when World Cup qualification gave us a sense of legitimacy, football was still pretty much "wogball" as far as much of Australia was concerned.

That game against Uruguay, you know the one, was the final crack in the dam that unleashed the flood. The sheilas, wogs, and poofters, as Johnny Warren so brilliantly described, had finally taken over.

Looking a little closer at Graham Arnold's Asian Cup squad reveals further ethnic expansion with Adelaide United's Bruce Djite called up to train with the senior players.

Australia immigration's history with African countries is almost zero but Djite arrived in Australia as a three-year-old. His father is from Cote D'Ivoire (meaning Bruce might have a bit of the Didier Drogba's about him) and his mother is from Togo.

Bruce was born in the USA, where his academic parents were working at the time, 20 years ago.

But thanks to current employers, the University of Western Sydney, where Paulin Djite is an Associate Professor, Bruce could well develop into the next Mark Viduka.

Indigenous Australia has made a contribution to our football success, even if that community still remains a vastly untapped area.

The late Charlie Perkins played in England in the 1960s before playing for Pan Hellenic, which later became Sydney Olympic.

Artist John Moriarty, now famous for paintings that adorn Qantas jets, was the first indigenous Australian selected for the Socceroos in the late 1960s before a cancelled trip to Asia thwarted an official appearance.

Harry Williams was a part of the legendary 1974 team, while (you may not know this) Frank Farina can claim Indigenous heritage as well.

Add Jade North and Travis Dodd, and keep an eye on David Williams (no relation) who has the potential to form a formidable future strike force for the Socceroos with Bruce Djite.

So, my man in Kuala Lumpur, was right. We're all funny-looking Asians, indeed.

But, the question is, where are the Socceroos of Asian heritage?

From memory, 1980s Socceroo legend Alan Davidson's mother was born in Japan.

Rising star Kaz Patafta's parents are from Croatia and Laos, while Perth-born young gun goalkeeper Tando Velaphi's oldies come from Zimbabwe and Japan.

And, um, that's about it.

According to official statistics, 6 per cent of Australia's population is of Asian descent, which is not insignificant. That figure is definitely reflected among the crowds of supporters at Socceroo games.

Alongside Australia, France fielded perhaps the most culturally diverse team at the last World Cup.

Conversely, of the major European nations, only Spain and Italy's squads didn't reflect any influence from immigration).

We have a lot to be proud of.

The Socceroos remain the true flagship for modern Australia.

But once a player with a Chinese or Vietnamese name is listed on a team sheet, we can truly crack open a tinny, sip on a cappuccino, pass the spring rolls, dip one in Vegemite and say "Bewdy" as Bruce Djite bags one for the 'Roos in Asia.

• by Matthew Hall at 09:20 AM
• Comments (14)

Friday, June 22, 2007

Green and golden goals

Cahill, Kewell, Aloisi, or Bresciano? Who has scored the best-ever goal for Australia?

Maybe neither.

According to my wife, who knows about these things, goals should be divided between the emotional and the technical. And who am I to argue?

Pretty much everyone knows where they were for John Aloisi's winner in the penalty shoot-out against Uruguay in 2005.

A few months after that goal, I met up with John in Barcelona (who his then-club Alaves were playing). He told me he'd been practicing that kick since he was a kid back home in his family's Adelaide garden. So he wouldn't wanted to have missed.

It was a goal that prompted an out-pouring of emotion never seen before in Australia - and, yes, that includes Cathy Freeman's 2000 Olympics run and that rich kid yacht race back in 1983.

But was it the best? No. Was it the most important? Maybe.

It could be argued that Mark Bresciano's now often over-looked goal earlier in the match was more significant than Johnny Aloisi's turkey shoot. Without Harry Kewell's scuffed shot that fell into Bresciano's path there may not have been a penalty shoot-out.

Bresh is no shirk when it comes to spectacular goals, as he demonstrated against Bahrain late last year. (And, yes, we're having a bit of a YouTube festival with all of this).

Having qualified for the 2006 World Cup, the Socceroos added more evidence to the argument that they're drama queens rather than a national team.

We needed to beat Japan in the opening group game to even think about the knockout stages. But, hey, we're Australia and we never make it easy for ourselves.

Let's concede an early lame goal to Japan and then wait until the last six minutes of the game to unleash the hounds - Tim Cahill and John Aloisi - to score three quality goals. Okay, Cahill's equaliser was scrappy but, in the Kaiserslautern stands that day it still caused a heaving rush of Aloisiesque adrenalin.

But, believe it or not, there was football before the 2006 World Cup and that included some regular displays of brilliance in a green and gold (and occasionally blue away) shirt.

Josip Skoko's goal against Mexico at the 2001 Confederations' Cup was brilliant from the moment Paul Okon won the ball to set up Skoko's stunning strike. Guus Hiddink would have been proud. Except this team was coached by Frank Farina.

True to form under Farina, Australia were brilliant one minute, rubbish the next. Hiddink was coaching South Korea at the same tournament and beat Australia 1-0 after the Socceroos had dumped on France. Japan pulled the same score against us in the semi-final. But then Shaun Murphy's header was enough to beat Brazil in the play-off for third place. Crazy times.

Skoko had a knack for the spectacular - his goal against Greece in Melbourne before the World Cup set the scene for drama to follow, although Skokes, bizarrely and cruelly, never played a minute in Germany.

Harry Kewell delivered against England in 2002. Sitting - and dancing - in the Upton Park stands, this was one of the coldest nights in memory and even more remarkable considering Kewell got off his sick bed to play a big part in putting three (count 'em!) past the Poms.

Australia's 1993 World Cup playoff with Argentina is now the stuff of legends, Robbie Slater, Diego Maradona, Mark Bosnich, and all that. Almost forgotten is the earlier qualifier against Canada when Mark Schwarzer first performed shoot-out heroics in an Australian shirt.

Before then, though, Mehmet Durakovic had to score a looping header to send the game towards penalties. Without that goal, Australia was dead, buried, and out of teh World Cup earlier than usual. Against Canada!

Part of the mythology now built around the 2006 World Cup is that it ended Australia's 32-year exile from the biggest sporting event in the world.

Jimmy Mackay's rocket against South Korea, on a hot Hong Kong night in 1973, was just as significant, maybe more so, than John Aloisi's in 2005. Without it, Rale Rasic, Peter Wilson, and Johnny Warren might be among the also-rans of Socceroo history.

Personally, for emotional and technical reasons, Charlie Yankos scored the best-ever goal in Australian colours.

Not the one he drilled home against Israel in the World Cup qualifier in 1989, although that was huge in the circumstances (another eventual World Cup fizzer for Australia, however).

In 1988, Australia played Argentina, then the World Cup holders in Sydney. Yeah, it was a friendly, but we smashed Argentina 4-1. These were days when it was considered Australians couldn't even play soccer, let alone football.

Charlie hit the sweetest free-kick in memory.

Beckham? Pah.

Watch this clip to the end and you'll also see current Socceroo coach Graham Arnold giving a post-match interview that, these days, we can only dream about.

As '80s-era Arnie says: "Celebrations? Just book an ambulance for me..."

• by Matthew Hall at 05:25 AM
• Comments (44)

Thursday, June 14, 2007

My David Beckham shame

There are three words guaranteed to inspire vomit in these parts: David Frickin' Beckham.

Actually, that's a little unfair. One the occasions I've met him (fleeting encounters that Mr Beckham would have no recollection of) he was charming, courteous, and professional.

Even if a little dull.

With a funny voice.

Yet the circus surrounding the guy is enough to upset the most commonly accepted standards of decency.

Unless you've been living under a rock - and if you have then more power to you - then you'll know that Becksmania will move to California in July.

One reason for this is so Beckham can run around and kick a ball for a team called Los Angeles Galaxy.

Los Angeles Galaxy are not very good, even though they feature US soccer's golden boy Landon Donovan in the team.

They play at a small stadium in the LA boondocks named after a hardware store. Although it does have great facilities for athletes.

Still, the club, or rather its parent company Anschutz Entertainment Group, will pay Becksmania US$25 million for five years.

But you know all this.

What's more interesting is a phenomena where, if Beckham so much as scratches his arse with a touch of flair, the England national team is set to win the 2010 World Cup.

Having been dropped by Steve McClaren after generally being rubbish at the past World Cup in Germany, Beckham was recalled for the last qualifier against Estonia.

England won 3-0 against a crap team that hasn't scored a goal nor won a match in this Euro 2008 qualifying campaign.

But rah, rah, rah, Beckham is God and England are brilliant again.

Even Real Madrid caught the mania, with officials suggesting Beckham might now stay in Spain and renege on his Galaxy contract seeing as he was now getting a few games at the Bernabeu.

And don't get me started on the pathetic tug-of-love between Sydney and Melbourne over which city may, or more likely may not, host and pay big money for a friendly match with Los Angeles Galaxy.

This was a little like two cheap drunks trying to impress a million dollar hooker.

Enough already!

Last week, it all became clear when Beckham's emaciated-looking alien-like wife Victoria turned up at a baseball game for some unrequired publicity.

"I've been to lots of soccer stadiums but this is something else," she lied, unless she was referring to the empty seats surrounding her.

"You'd better tell people that you really love the Dodgers," a club official suggested in front of a gaggle of my, hopefully bored, colleagues.
"OK, I love the Dodgers," she chirped.

Not so long ago, former Socceroo Andy Bernal was employed as Beckham's minder when he first moved to Madrid.

Posh Spice was rarely around during that time. Part of the result was Becksmania hooking up with Bernal's colleague Rebecca Loos.

You know that story too, but what was eye-opening for Bernal was the Beckham PR machine going into overdrive when the golden image of Posh and Becks lost polish.

Some of the more amusing fall out from the drama with Loos was a publicised "reconciliation dinner" between the footballer and his wife.

While the food at one of Madrid's top restaurants was, no doubt, tasty a major reason for the dinner was to create a paparazzi photo opportunity for the apparently still-in-love couple.

We know this because Loos, the earlier object of Beckham's affection, has to arrange the venue and inform the dutiful photographers of the "event". Oh, the irony.

Being Beckham, husband or wife, is all about business.

Posh made this very clear to Bernal as she explained why his services were no longer required.

The management agency SFX, for whom Bernal worked and who had previously claimed Beckham as a client, did not have its contract renewed.

Instead, the star player's career would be managed by 19 Entertainment, Posh's own representatives.

"Andy..." Posh told the former Socceroo as she waved goodbye, "... business is business. We've all got mortgages to pay."

Well, even shelling out nearly $7 million for a new pad, Posh, you can probably pay in cash.

But, here, I too have been sucked in.

I'm ashamed to have added another 600 words to this increasingly mainstage sideshow (but thankfully, this is why we love the Electric Interwave, no trees suffered for this).

Pass the sick bucket.

Next week: we consider Paris Hilton's credentials to coach the Socceroos.

• by Matthew Hall at 07:26 AM
• Comments (47)

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Transfer truth: Kewell and Viduka

Harry Kewell will leave Liverpool during the off-season. It's a done deal.

That's a story that won't be written here but, because of the cunning design of this website, those two sentences sucked you in.

Go on, admit it.

In all seriousness, the continuing speculation around Kewell and his Liverpool career is laughable.

Twelve months ago, I stood in a bar in Oehringen, Germany, with Bernie Mandic, Kewell's manager.

We listened in as two Australian Socceroo fans, over a beer or three, discussed Kewell's apparently impending move from Liverpool to Tottenham Hotspur.

"It's a done deal," one said to the other.

Mandic's eyebrows rose and he asked the fans a question.

"He is?"

This was news to him.

The fans were adamant and unrolled a list of reasons why.

As it turned out, Tottenham would, after all, make an enquiry about Kewell but not until August. Liverpool said they were not interested and Harry spent the season recovering from surgery.

Yet the gossip continues.

Apparently, because Kewell is injury "prone", Benitez has "lost patience" and wants rid of him.

Except the truth is that Benitez had a meeting with his squad after the UEFA Champions League Final and told all those he was happy to see leave that they should do so.

Kewell was not among them. Benitez has never even hinted Harry is on his hit list.

Still, this is the silly season.

A friend called from France last week to say that she'd spotted a holidaying Ronaldo (the Brazilian one) and Jared Leto, an American actor turned 'Emo" rock star, in a Paris night club.

"So what?" I replied.

"They were together," she clarified.

Meanwhile, Cristiano Ronaldo is spending his summer holiday stalking Canadian temptress Nelly Furtado as she undertakes her current tour.

Considering Nelly:

a) has Portuguese heritage
b) is a football fan
c) has not been hit with the ugly stick

this is something to endorse and time well spent by young Ron.

Mark Viduka, on the other hand, is spending his holiday somewhere in the United States.

Dooks has managed to spend some of his spare time deciding to finally quit mediocre Middlesbrough and, next season, play for Newcastle United, a club whose dedicated fans are regularly disappointed by their team's shortcomings.

Boro and Newcastle are big rivals. We look forward with interest to his return to the Riverside after fans pleaded for him to stay.

Viduka's move may be financially sound but is one without ambition. Even with Sam Allardyce at the helm, any Newcastle success next season will come as a total surprise.

Put it this way, they might pack out St James Park but they're not going to challenge for the Premier League title.

Neither will Newcastle be involved in the UEFA Champions League nor the who-cares UEFA Cup.

Sadly, Viduka will end his career only with a couple of Melbourne Knights medals, a couple of Croatian championship titles with Dinamo Zagreb, and that's about it.

A total shame that a player of such undeniable quality has not had success playing with of Europe's genuine big clubs.

Kewell, on the other hand, holds tight to his schoolboy dream of playing and winning medals with legendary Liverpool.

The Anfield club have been pretenders domestically for the past 17 years but, even if he has limped off injured in Champions League and FA Cup finals, Kewell has a trophy cabinet with real trophies.

One that can be added to, as well.

So long as he doesn't move to Spurs.

• by Matthew Hall at 07:45 AM
• Comments (18)

Friday, June 1, 2007

Graham Arnold: joke or genius? Let's sweat on it.

At the end of July, Socceroo coach Graham Arnold will be declared a joke or genius.

It's a tough business being coach of an international football team. Not only do you have to put up with fussy, ego-driven, superstars who pick and choose their availability for games but you have to weather speculation from the public and media (often uninformed) about the simplest decisions you make.

But that's the part of the package when a nation has an emotional investment in your day job. (We don't, for example, really care that much how the local supermarket checkout chick scans groceries).

So, it's like this: Australia's almost non-existent preparation for the Asian Cup is either genius or a joke. Handing a number of our star players a holiday and giving the kids a run against Uruguay is either inspired or stupid.

So too is the idea of having just one warm-up kick around against Singapore, a city-state whose team is so poor that the local federation scouts the globe for players to "fill the gaps" in their team.

Singapore does have an unreal airport, though.

The truth is that we won't know until the group games against Oman, Iraq, and Thailand are over as to whether this preparatory masterplan was a disaster. Goalkeeper Mark Schwarzer agreed as much when I spoke with him at home in England last week.

What we do know is that Japan, who are fast becoming our biggest Asian rivals, beat Montenegro (FIFA's most recent and 208th member) 2-0 last Friday and meet Colombia this week. That's the total of their warm up.

Iraq, on the other hand, will play Jordan (possibly twice) in the next week, then Iran and Palestine in the West Asian championships before possible games against Syria, Lebanon, and Jordan.

The boys from Baghdad then have another game against South Korea in Seoul before arriving in Bangkok. These guys will be a machine by the time they meet Australia on Friday, July 13.

"I've been to Thailand five times already so I'm not going for a holiday," Iraq's coach Jorvan Vieira told me during the week.

"Can you beat Australia?" I asked.

"Of course!" he replied. "Of course!!"

So that's one official banana skin.

The other potential slip up, and this is where jogging around a park in Singapore's humid heat might be more beneficial than actual games, is the weather.

Not so long ago, on a beach in Nha Trang, Vietnam, I was a pudgy sunburnt Aussie wheezing and puffing in an 8-a-side pick up game with locals.

My teammates called me "Viduka" before collapsing in giggles, though this may have had more to do with my extra kilos than goal scoring skills.

I played for Skins while my mate Gareth played for Shirts. After about 15 minutes, the tropical air was a heavy blanket.

This meant that waddling around the makeshift centre-circle (the pitch was defined by rocks and lines drawn in the dust) was down-graded to standing on the centre spot. Running was not an option. It was that tough.

Our team didn't concede a goal all afternoon but we Australian interlopers had to play with brains rather than industry. Admittedly, Tim Cahill is slightly fitter than me (and probably you) but similar strategy will need to apply in July for the Socceroos.

By which time, we hope, we'll have a better idea of whether Graham Arnold is a joke or genius.

BIZARRE HAPPENING OF THE WEEK
Maximiliano Kadijevic, goalkeeper for Argentinean third division side Defensores, who asked the ref to hold up the game so he could go to the toilet. As he explained in a post-match interview, opposition fans had good reason to call him a "shit goalkeeper". (The clip is in Spanish but you can work it out).

• by Matthew Hall at 05:47 AM
• Comments (26)