By Tom Clifford
It is with no disrespect to the people of Curacao that there will be people today reading of their footballers inspirational exploits who will be asking, where is it?
The tiny Caribbean nation became the smallest country ever to qualify for the World Cup.
Haiti, who last appeared in the World Cup in 1974, also achieved their qualification goal with a 2-0 win over Nicaragua. Ironically, Haiti secured their decisive qualification victory in Curaçao, where the team have been forced to play their home qualifiers due to unrest in their homeland.
Panama meanwhile, grabbed the other automatic qualification spot on offer on with a 3-0 win over El Salvador at home.
The World Cup is not about football or winning. Before you call for the men in white coats to take me away, let me elaborate.
For football supporters, a wide swathe of humanity, the World Cup is about friendship, the sharing of dreams, the ability to treat triumph and disaster as two imposters. It is about reaching out and placing your emotions in the unforgiving public arena of gatherings around TV sets, computers or radios. It is largely about knowing how to lose with grace. For only one team can emerge as champions. Only a tiny fraction of those watching the event will actually experience the joy of seeing their team’s captain lift the trophy.
It is too strong to say that the issue divides humanity, but unanimity in agreeing on the best World Cup ever has not been achieved. I consider myself fortunate that I can remember the 1970 event.
Watching Pele, Gerson, Rivelino and Jairzinho toy with the opposition evoked feelings of witnessing poetry. The pitch was their canvas. It was where their art was made.
It was impossible not to be in awe of their talent. It was a privilege to watch them. They seemed to be saying, this is what life can be. Joyous, colorful, celebratory.
The Irish poet W.B. Yeats expressed it best in He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Message from King Willem Alexander:
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