Some time ago, a comment made by a football federation official that Bangladesh will improve its sagging glory in football by targeting the 2022 World Cup, was met with huge criticism. Rationally speaking, I think it won’t happen. At least, not in my lifetime.
However, there was a moment when the dream of playing in the World Cup did not seem far-fetched. In the late 80s, when Bangladesh won the local President Cup and our boys (a little more than boys perhaps) trounced top teams like Brazil and the lot in the Dana and Gothia Cup in Sweden and Denmark, there was optimism all around.
A confession though: When we saw the recorded final match between Bangladesh and Brazil, where we possibly won by seven goals, the age difference was too conspicuous to ignore. Bakhtiar and company looked far above the age limit of fourteen. Anyway, in the elation of victory, we decided to talk less about the flouting of the age limit.
The boys from Brazil actually cried in the end. Yes, they were just that, teenagers.
Whatever the case, the country was on a roll. Bangladesh was better than most Southeast Asian nations, we were almost always the finalists with India and, in the club level, Mohammedan had beaten Iranian champions Pirouzi to move to the Asian Club final round.
Incidentally, even in the next round in 1989, Mohammedan won against the North Korean champions in April 25, fuelling hopes of a World Cup place in the years to come.
The expectation wasn’t irrational at all. Iran had played the World Cup in 1978, North Korea in 1966, and our clubs were prevailing against them so there was ground for envisioning a Bangladesh team walking into a stadium filled with supporters in a World Cup match.
Football in the 80s was all about strides forward. The Iran-Iraq war paved way for top players from both countries to come and play in the local league. The Eagle of Asia, Nasser Hejazi, captain of the Iranian team in 1978, made Dhaka his home, becoming coach to Mohammedan.
He brought two top level players, Naljegar and Vijen Taheri, who, along with Abahani recruits from Iraq, Karim Mohammad Alawi, and Samir Shaker, injected a much needed international touch to the local game.
Incidentally, Samir Shaker became infamous after spitting at the referee in the 1986 World Cup match between Iraq and Belgium. He also coached the Bangladesh team to the first SAF Games gold in 1999.
When the 1986 World Cup came, games could be seen directly from Mexico. This was not the case in 1982 when many matches, including the quarter finals, were recorded and shown later.
In 1982, very few heard of or noticed Maradona. Eyes were on Brazil as always. They played like magic and lost like gentlemen. The Tango Espana ball had become the ultimate sporting gift. Back in the early 80s, local league games used another ball called the Mikasa. Lightweight and fast, Mikasa was soon supplanted by the Tango.
Local players wore boots made by Globe while only the lucky ones who had the privilege to travel abroad to play for the national team came back with the famous Adidas Copa Mundial boots. The 1982 World Cup ended but left no lasting legacy. Paolo Rossi, the Italian redeemer in the final against Germany, won’t be recognised by most current-day fans.
Kuwait was the Asian country to qualify and I recall after their place was confirmed, each player was gifted a luxury boat and a residence by the sea. To go through some farcical World Cup matches click on to Kuwait-France 1982, where the Sheikh intervened to have a goal scored by France disallowed.
It was 1986 that impacted football in Bangladesh the most. From the ashes of Brazil rose a diminutive man called Maradona, sparking off a cult which is the main reason why Argentina has so many supporters today.
There were many other players that shone in that World Cup: Platini, Enzo Francescoli, Preben Elkjaer, Gary Linekar, Emilio Butragueno, and so on, but about 28 years later, ask anyone and only one name will prevail: Maradona!
After the World Cup, Bangladesh was swept by the Argentina cyclone – stationary, books, lollipops, posters, and shirts all had the image of the Argentinian with his iconic kiss on the trophy.
As for boots, the small master alone catapulted Puma King, which he wore, to sublime status.
Some were determined to be Maradona and Argentina fans/worshippers forever. In the Dhaka University area, there are many Argentina eccentrics, one such person is called Kaliji.
A thin, short guy, Kaliji can be passed off as a 25-year-old, though he once practiced with the famed Mohammedan footballers Kaiser Hamid, Jewel Rana, and so on in the late 80s. That makes him around 40 or more!
Kaliji has three passions in life – biriyani, marijuana, and Argentina. He must have some sort of polao-based dish every day, he will be spotted in dark corners smoking a joint at ungodly hours, and, if there is a football game on, he will usually arrive in his Argentina t-shirt.
Once, after a heavy joint session, he came to the DU field to practice on his own – nothing wrong with that, but it was 3am at night and he was stoned immaculate.
The 90s will be remembered for the rise of the African lions, Cameroon, but I doubt if any other event from the following World Cups created a lasting impact on Bangladesh. For me, the best World Cup match involves none of the big teams, but Iran and USA in 1998.
We supported Iran like our national team, screaming till the end with a landmark 2-1 win. When I called my uncle to share my joy, he responded – it was not a match, it was Jihad.
Alas! In 2014, we do not expect to play in the great spectacle any time soon. Bangladesh has lost its superiority in the region, which is rather pejoratively regarded as the third tier of Asian football, so the cup is far, far away.
Unless of course, we join Kaliji in one of his sessions and then begin to experience delusions. Meanwhile, it’s that time to revive the age-old question: Are you Argentina or Brazil?
Nah! I am none of those. For me, it’s Iran!