As the final whistle neared, I momentarily looked up to the grey skies of Doha and pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. I was just behind the goal, sporting my ballboy bib and intently following the action on the pitch. How I became a ballboy is a separate story altogether.
A few meters in front of me was the German goalkeeper Manuel Neuer (just writing that gives me goosebumps all over again). I thought I had the best seat in the house – except I was standing throughout. Minutes later, it was full-time, and Bayern Munich triumphed over Mexican club Tigres UANL to win the 2020 FIFA Club World Cup – a fitting end to a historic year for the Bavarian giants. As the Bayern players went off to celebrate, Neuer handed his water bottle to me and gestured I take it home. I was perplexed, unable to process the situation. He again gestured, confirming he wanted to give it to me. And he was gone in a few seconds. It all felt surreal. The water bottle remains one of my most valuable possessions to this day.
My story is nothing to be envious of, though. When Germany won the World Cup in Brazil in 2014, I was still in my hometown of Barisal in Bangladesh, struggling to make ends meet. When I was a kid, I remember walking over one kilometre to be able to catch a glimpse of the World Cup. We had no television at home; even if we did, it wouldn't have mattered because we barely had electricity. One of my earliest football memories was watching the 2002 World Cup. I was only eight back then and was in awe of the spectacle. We had hundreds of Brazil and Argentina fans in our locality; I remember supporters going mental after Ronaldo's second goal in the final.
It made no sense back then, but the events over that one month in South Korea and Japan left this young kid in a village in Bangladesh dreaming of becoming a footballer one day. Like the other kids around me, I played barefoot while growing up. And I spent hours and hours playing in the local field. And I was better than most of the players around me. I was decent at the school level and later made it to a divisional tournament representing Barisal, and in the final, I scored a goal to help my team win the tournament. I still remember the match as if it happened yesterday.
Outside of football, my life, career-wise, was not going as well as I had hoped, and I was exploring opportunities of moving abroad. A few people in my neighbourhood had moved to Qatar in the past few years, and taking a leap of faith, I applied and, finally, after going through the rigorous process, moved to Doha in the summer of 2015, leaving my family behind back home.
The universe works in mysterious ways. I landed a job as a construction worker in Qatar for QDVC, a renowned construction company. I was ready to take the leap of faith. I was a scaffolder.
The company had a field for workers to play. Every night after duty, I would play with colleagues from different countries. It was a special feeling!
Shortly after I joined, they were preparing for The Workers Cup – a football tournament involving migrant workers. I made a strong enough impression in practice to be selected in the starting eleven for the first match and scored a hat-trick. Unfortunately, we got eliminated in the quarter-finals, but my performances ensured I got noticed by everyone.
In 2016, I was introduced to the Generation Amazing program – a movement that uses football as a catalyst for social change, empowering and educating the current and future generations by offering a unique football training on and off the pitch. They had started working with my company, and I often went to their field to practice.
There, a gentleman called Michael Richardson, a master coach, offered me to become a coach for them. I had never coached before, but the program gave me a lot of training and sent me on a coaching course to receive an AFC D License. It was hard to understand his accent at first, but I started to grasp it as I got to know him. He treated me as a friend, and we struck a close bond as time passed. I learned from him how to be a good football coach and the philosophy of football; respect, communication, helping each other, and how I can use this in my community.
In 2018, I had the incredible opportunity to go to Russia and watch the World Cup as part of the program. Out of 350 coaches in Qatar that were involved in the program, eight were selected for this opportunity, and I was one of them. The Spanish legend Xavi was part of our group. I watched the opening match between Russia and Saudi Arabia and later watched the thrilling draw between Spain and Portugal. It was a surreal experience! We also delivered a football session for children in Moscow as part of the tour. All these involvements helped me become a FIFA volunteer and eventually land the ballboy gig for the Club World Cup final.
When the Bangladeshi national team came to Qatar in 2020 for the World Cup qualification match, I got to meet them. And my transition to football coaching has opened new doors for me. When I go back to Bangladesh during the holidays, I can now spend time with the divisional team and impart some of the coaching lessons I have learned over the past few years.
I am fully aware my experience in Qatar is unique to me, and other migrant workers might have gone through different experiences. I am not here to talk about my day job. I am only here to tell you how being moderately good at playing football back home despite never making it to a professional league has changed the life of a scaffolder. Who'd have thought the skinny kid from Barishal would one day be in meetings with the likes of Tim Cahill and Gareth Southgate in a foreign land? As a football fan, I couldn't have asked for more, and my journey is a testament to the power of football.