A Nation of Passion and Contradiction
The scenes of a bustling Federation Square during the last FIFA World Cup in Qatar, as thousands gathered in the early hours of the morning to cheer on the Socceroos during their journey to the round of 16, revealed a side of Australia that is often overlooked: we are a true football nation. We feel it. We get it.
However, the decision to not screen the Socceroos’ games at Federation Square during next month’s World Cup, citing the behavior of a few troublemakers, highlights another aspect of our national character: we are also a nation of killjoys. We feel nothing, and we don’t get it.
The Disappointment of Lost Euphoria
How else can we interpret the move by the Melbourne Arts Precinct, the body responsible for Federation Square, to deny us all the chance to experience communal euphoria because of a couple of bad apples? What is the purpose of Fed Square, and other public spaces like it around the country, if not exactly this?
Over the past four years, much has changed, so it’s easy to forget how electrifying it was in 2022. Footage of people from all walks of life losing their heads after every Australian goal, with a glorious red, flare-tinted sky above them, went viral globally; so too were clips of live crosses from Tony Armstrong (ABC) and Eli Mengem (SBS), who were so swept up in the joy of the World Cup that every ounce of professionalism in their bodies simply vanished.
And we’re glad it did. How often do we get to share moments like that these days? How nice is it to come together in that way? Those who were there could not speak highly enough of the atmosphere – and it was good enough for Fed Square to share it via their own social media channels at the time.
When we see things like that happen in other countries, our reaction tends to be: “Wow, isn’t that cool?” But when it actually happens here, the wowsers don’t know how to handle it. For a bunch of so-called larrikins, we are world-class at pooping parties.
A Shared Experience That Inspired
I was in Qatar, covering that World Cup for this masthead, and the “limbs” not only astounded reporters from other countries – who were left further astounded when I told them what ungodly hour it was back home – but Socceroos players, too.
I was there in the mixed zone after Australia’s win over Tunisia when a colleague showed Jackson Irvine, a proud Melbourne boy, a video of what was happening while they were out on the pitch.
“Jesus Christ,” Irvine said, on the verge of tears. “I wish I was there as well.”
They all loved it. Coach Graham Arnold actually used the groundswell of support, and Fed Square in particular, to motivate his players for the remainder of their campaign.
The next year, the hordes came out in force again for the Matildas’ Women’s World Cup campaign – and they loved it, too. Who wouldn’t? It was objectively awesome.
A Question of Responsibility
Let’s have it right: there’s no defending the idiots who took things too far by throwing flares and bottles into the crowd or by otherwise playing up. That’s dangerous, and nobody condones it.
But is collective punishment really the only answer here? Does the benefit of these collective experiences not significantly outweigh the damage? Can we not just better prepare for the risk?
For those who live and breathe the game, this is a painfully familiar tale. We have seen the slow death of active support at A-League matches, and how overzealous police and security actually contribute to the problems they claim to be trying to solve.
Institutionally, our decision-makers don’t seem to know how to handle this “style” of support – and even worse, they don’t seem remotely interested in trying to understand it. Some media outlets prey on the conflict, while giving a light touch to serious misbehaviour in other codes.
For soccer, it’s the big stick, every single time, no matter what.
Other live sites will apparently be organised – but it won’t be the same, at least not in Melbourne. Fed Square had established a special place in the hearts of Socceroos and Matildas fans, a kind of cultural cachet which would have generated more special vibes in the weeks ahead – especially given the friendly timezone for this World Cup.
Instead, we’re wagging our finger, shaking our heads and shutting it all down, without realising how ridiculous it makes us all look.
But when you really think about it, though … is there anything more Australian than that?
