International football will always be awesome in my eyes, far moreso than club football. I love the history behind it, and there's something more exciting about keeping up with the fortunes of minnows like Eritrea and Tuvalu than there is about following your average lower-league domestic team. Sorry, Accrington Stanley fans, but that's the truth. The quality of even the top international fixtures isn't as good as the Premier League or the Bundesliga, and supporting England can often seem like a grim march to the grave. But it's not about the money for the players (which is probably why they seem less motivated), but more about glory. That and national pride, which I'm less on board with (after all, I'm from the nation that sings 'Two World Wars and One World Cup whenever we play Germany, to which the Germans should really respond 'Three World Cups, Eleven Semi-Finals, and we may not have won a world war, but we did rebuild our economy afterwards, we provide for our people better and are generally less disagreeable than you lot', but I guess that's not as catchy), but what ya gonna do? When a big international tournament happens, it brings people together in celebration, and that's a wonderful thing, whereas club football is more unpleasantly tribal. It's an occasion for rejoicing in the beauty of life.
Or it's an occasion for rioting over the cost of the thing, as we've seen in Brazil. And it would be a shame if that were to overshadow a lovely fairytale; that of Tahiti. For those who don't know, the Confederations Cup is played every four years, twelve months ahead of the World Cup, in the same host nation, so as to provide a sort of warm-up for the big one, and the champions of every continent are invited to participate. The champions of Oceania (a confederation consisting of New Zealand and the Pacific islands, ever since traditional powerhouse Australia started playing Asian teams instead) are Tahiti, ranked 138th in the world and with one professional player.
They got smashed in every game; 6-1 by Nigeria, 10-0 by Spain, and 8-0 by Uruguay. There was a huge gulf in class; Tahiti defended naively and were far too rigid in positioning. But then that was exactly what was expected. Nobody will remember all the goals, but they will remember the moments. The atmosphere at the games was superb, with the players cheering and booing like Tahiti were Hulk Hogan and their opposition were Andre the Giant. The Brazilian fans have been more enchanted with Tahiti than was Paul Gauguin; it's not very often, after all, that they get to support the underdogs in international football. The BBC commentator said it best when he remarked that when Spain got a penalty, the whole stadium was willing Fernando Torres to miss. And then he did! The keeper celebrated like he'd won the lottery - Tahiti were 8-0 down at the time - and raised his hands to the heavens and thanked God, thought if he'd watched more Chelsea matches the last couple of years he'd know that Fernando Torres doesn't need divine intervention to miss a shot. The joy on the faces of the Tahitian players when they scored their only goal of the tournament against Nigeria was a sight to behold, and the cheer when the Tahitian goalkeeper saved a lazily-struck penalty from the Uruguayan centre-back was deafening. After the Spain drubbing, the world champions cleared off the pitch quickly so that the team that had just lost 10-0 could take their well-deserved standing ovation from the audience, which was a lovely display of sportsmanship; say what you will about Jose Mourinho as a person, but when a lower league team came to Stamford Bridge in the FA Cup, he always went out of his way to be hospitable and to make it a special day for them. It was the same at the Maracana. For Spain it was just another international game, for Tahiti an experience that will stay with them forever.
And that's the point I'm trying to make, really. Andy Carroll may apparently be worth £35m, but the experience of playing the world champions at one of the most famous stadiums in the world is beyond price. Some people were rather churlishly questioning Tahiti's place at the tournament, but it's not their fault that they qualified. Critics said the same when North Korea went to the 1966 World Cup when accomplished European teams like Scotland and Yugoslavia were at home, but then the Koreans beat Italy and nearly reached the semis. Obviously, Tahiti were never going to cause a shock like that, but their shocks were smaller in scale - the goalkeeper saving a penalty, a striker scoring a consolation goal, Luis Suarez being robbed by a defender who works on a building site - and they were all the more precious because of that. Best of all, they attacked! Even at ten goals down to Spain, there were no thoughts of damage limitation. They got men forward and really had a go. Compare it to the Spain-Ireland game last summer at Euro 2012, which was a dreadful experience. Ireland barely attempted to play attacking football; they spent 90 minutes parking the bus in front of their goal, and Spain still battered them. Not as badly as they trounced Tahiti, but I know which I'd rather see as a football fan. Tahiti were bigger outsiders than the protagonist in a Camus novel, and they did themselves proud by really trying. For every race storm or nightclub punch-up in the Premier League, there's moments like this, and I doubt I'll treasure anything from the upcoming domestic season like I did Tahiti's three brave defeats in Brazil. Tahiti; the worst team in the history of the Confederations Cup, and the greatest.
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