2022 World Cup Diary – Part Five (Brazil v Switzerland, 974 Stadium)
Swiss container tactics not enough v Brazil
Monday 28th November 2022
So on Monday we saw the final day of four matches kicking off at different times. On occasion (at weekends specifically) at past finals there have been four games a day, before the final round of group games with their simultaneous kick offs anyway, but most of the time the tournament has sufficient time to breath that there are three matches a day. Obviously the condensed nature of these finals has changed things so that the whole shebang can be completed in 29 days. Russia 2018 spanned 32. Being here, it’s been possible to catch some of the matches on a big screen or my iPad using VPN to get the UK broadcast, but I shall get to the culture of having TVs in restaurants and cafes later. Traveling to and from games makes it impossible to catch everything, and in that sense, it’s just like any other finals in any other country.
There are some matches I’ve missed that I might try to catch on BBC’s iPlayer or ITV Hub, although I suspect time factors will mean that I end up seeing the highlights programs instead. But the truth remains that you only get the full flavour of the stadiums, the tournament and the general atmosphere by being there. And of course, this one has been very interesting in that respect. The Mrs has got fed up of the walking that goes with getting to and from the grounds, and so has decided to go to two further matches out of the five remaining, having already passed on the Croatia v Canada. So a friend was keen to see a game at the 974 stadium where Brazil were facing Switzerland, and he used the spare ticket.
I traveled to the game using one of the multitude of buses laid on to get fans to matches from the Clusters in Al Janoub (official name Barwa Barahat) and it was a surprisingly reasonable walk to the stadium for this one. 974 is the one stadium that the Qataris admit will be dismantled after the tournament for further use. There has been philanthropic talk of the stadium being re-erected in a poorer country, but I suspect we are actually talking scrap metal here. It will be used for seven matches and then consigned to history. Worse though will be that this is the likely fate of the majority of the stadiums here. Once the finals are done, the place simply doesn’t need more than a couple of them. Left standing, most will be white elephants and it would be easier to knock them down and build afresh than convert them into anything other than muli-storey car parks.
Nevertheless, as a design idea, it was striking – for the most part, the external elements of the stadium – the stairways, parts of the interior in corporate level – were fashioned from containers and painted a variety of colours to emphasize the idea. The 974 figure is the international dialing code for Qatar, although I didn't have the time or indeed access to verify that 974 containers were actually used. It’s fair to say that there are plenty of other elements that went into the construction of the stadium anyway. In certain respects, it reminded me of the Olympic Stadium in terms of the amount of metal around as I walked up the stairs to reach the upper tier and meet my friend inside.
The stadium was a decent size, but you felt close enough to the pitch, even high up as we were. There were a few rows of empties high up next to the media section on the halfway line, so before kick off, as these seats had obviously not been sold, we moved from our corner flag position for a better view. Apparently FIFA are releasing a lot of seats for sale in the 24 hours before a game, presumably held back for the use of sponsors, FIFA family, pals of the Emir of Qatar or whoever. FIFA have a way of establishing a sense of rarity around the tickets through the numerous phases in which they release them, which is probably necessary for the very high prices they are asking, but it also means that certain games that could be sold out (Brazil v Switzerland in a 45,000 seat stadium being an obvious example) see plenty of empty seats. I saw a block of the cheap seats behind the goal being filled by volunteers long after the game had started. Fair play to them I suppose, but it was not a good look. There are also non attendees – these may be tickets bought by touts that were not sold, or simply people with enough money to simply have an option on attending that decide against.
As for the game itself – Brazil did the job and certainly provided more entertainment than the Swiss, even if they only managed to score one (although an earlier effort was wildly celebrated until VAR gave it as a marginal offside). The goal that stood was a peach of a shot from Casemiro. So Brazil are through, and Switzerland can join them by drawing with Serbia… as long as Cameroon do not beat Brazil which seems unlikely – although of course nothing can be taken for granted as we have seen already. Rather strangely, I saw that in Russia 2018 there was a group with Brazil, Switzerland, Serbia and… well, Cameroon didn't make the finals, but Costa Rica made up their place. France, Denmark and Australia were also in the same group as in this tournament. 24 of the 32 countries that qualified last time are also in Qatar.
Anyhow, after the game we caught a ‘stadium express’ bus to Souk Waqif – the main ‘old town’ area of Doha – which you could only access through certain entrances to prevent congestion. Looking for somewhere to eat with a TV screen to watch Portugal play Uruguay proved impossible, and it was a reminder that really, there is no culture for watching sports here. Compare with Russia and Brazil – TVs everywhere. Ah well, we eat and then headed to the main Corniche Fan Park for the experience, and to catch the second half of the game. By the time we arrived, Portugal were one up. We could hear the goal during the long walk from the bus drop off point, and I’d guess it took us maybe 15 minutes to actually get in from the drop off point. A little of the delay was the examination of the national flags of Brazil and Switzerland we’d been given at the stadium. I was aghast, but then my friend reminded me that they had to check for political messages. But at a Fan Park? Who is going to see that anyway? In a stadium, with TV cameras, I get it. Very odd. Anyway, from the numbers watching the game I could see these places are popular, but then again, the options to be able to watch the game on TV are extremely limited, so it was understandable, if not particularly comfortable. At one point, for some reason (I think the intense amount of light from the screen probably, combined with the ear-splitting volume), I felt quite faint and had to just crouch down to gather myself for a couple of minutes. I recovered sufficiently to exit once Portugal scored their second in injury time, and here the fun began. My pal went the other way as was staying not too far away, and I listened to the directions and headed for what I assumed was the nearest metro station. Turned out to be a mile and a half’s walk. My friend told me there was one the other way after about half the distance. What is the point of this? Crowd control at a stadium, I get, but a fan park? Where people come and go in a far more staggered manner. When the end of this weary journey was reached, the man with the megaphone (the usual instruction is ‘Metro, this way’, which gets tedious after hearing it a thousand times) called out ‘You have finally reached the Metro’ – acknowledging the ridiculous length of the journey.
Yes, the stadiums are all close together in comparison with a normal World Cup, but the distances within Doha… well, it's a big place and in normal times, nobody walks too far anywhere. From car park to wherever, and there are plenty of car parks. There is no real feeling of accessible community as such here – the stadiums I have been to seem to be in the middle of nowhere with the exception of the Lusail, although this may be because the fan routes to and from the ground are simply sealed off with rows and rows of stewards and security with a ‘you can’t go this way’ approach. But a lot of the distance walking seems unjustified, over the top and exhausting. As stated before, this tournament could never have taken place in 40 degree heat. Air-conditioned stadiums are one thing, but access for spectators happens outside. There is a proposed joint bid for the 2030 World Cup between the unlikely trinity of Saudi Arabia, Greece and Egypt. You can only foresee another winter tournament unless they are going to aircon the routes to the grounds.
So I’ve kind of already reached my conclusions about this tournament. Great stadiums, no debate. But with the money poured into building them, it’s what you’d expect. Infrastructure has been created and a system to move fans around is organized and until the point when you start walking, very welcome. However, the legacy of Qatar that will remain with me more than anything is control. Thousands and thousands of people to tell you that you can’t do this and you can’t go there. I don’t feel anything in the way of Arab hospitality. The tournament is a giant PR exercise for Qatar’s plans to attract moneyed visitors, but people – beyond the bright lights of the skyscrapers and the shopping malls, there’s really nothing here. If you are Arabian, you can probably connect with the culture in the more authentic parts of the place. But as an outsider, it just feels soulless and inaccessible. And as for the poor sods that are here just to earn money to send back to their families in southern parts of Asia, I am not surprised about the suicide rate. Because for them, this place, this closed society with its strict hierarchy, must at times feel like hell on earth.
Back to the football next time and the start of the elimination games in the group, USA v Iran for me.
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