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    Day after Greatest World Cup final: Qatar empties, leaving behind emptiness


    The night of Sunday never ended. Not for Lionel Messi and friends; not for their fans; not for any football fan, perhaps not for the entire country and the human mass that accumulated here. Even hours after the game was over, the reality of what had unfolded gradually sinking in, the crowd clung on. Some were in the stands, processing the tumult they had seen, some lingering on to celebrate, perhaps to get a glimpse of Messi or Mbappe one last time.

    Thousands hung in the vicinity of the Lusail Stadium, to soak in the atmosphere, to fully absorb the slice of history they had seen. Some Argentinian fans looked genuinely stoned, most were crying on each other’s shoulders. “I am 62, I have seen Diego Maradona and Mario Kempes winning the World Cup,” says Antonio Lopez. “But this is the greatest football match I have ever seen. And this could be the greatest football match I would ever see. I don’t know what to tell you. I cannot explain what I am going through,” he adds, pausing and choking for words.

    The song of Messi—Muchachos, esta noche me emborracho—blared out from metros and buses, streets and alleys, the energy of the rendition undiminished. Marianna quips: “It says we are gonna get drunk tonight. But where is the alcohol?” she asks, and then adds: “The game itself took us on a trip.” The dance and song never stopped; it would not for a long time.

    But amidst all the jubilation, they did not forget to console French fans if they found one. Near the exit of a metro station, a French fan in an Antoine Griezmann shirt was sulking, exhaling thick fumes from his e-cigarette. An Argentine wrapped his arms around him and consoled and then swapped their jerseys. When the hangover of the World Cup ends, it is such moments that would be missed as Qatar reacquaints itself with a life after the World Cup. A boring, tedious life.

    Argentina's Lionel Messi Argentina’s Lionel Messi holds the trophy as he celebrates with his teammates after winning the World Cup final soccer match against France at the Lusail Stadium in Lusail, Qatar, Sunday, Dec. 18, 2022. (AP Photo/Thanassis Stavrakis)

    Some of the tourists have fallen in love with the country too. For the last fortnight, Mateo Perez from Rosario, has been learning more about Qatar. He landed in Doha in time for Argentina’s round of sixteen game, but the more days he spent in the city the more intrigued was about the city’s culture, cuisine and history. In spare time, he would visit the national museum, library, and soak in the old-world grandeur for Souq Waqif and Msheireb. What was supposed to be a footballing pilgrimage has turned out to be a cultural journey.

    For him, he says, the trip was an eye-opener. “Back home, there was fear of CIDs sniffing behind you, putting you in prison if you wear shorts and sleeveless tees, about watching the game with military force looking over your shoulder. The vicar in the church even advised me to cancel my trip because there has been gross human rights violation. I was a bit scared. Bunch of nonsense, I feel now,” he says.

    But he would leave on Tuesday, and so would thousands, plunging the country into solitude.

    The country woke up late, late as it never had after a night most unforgettable in their lives. It’s the start of the week-days, but it did not matter, they woke up groggily, still intoxicated with the magic they beheld on Sunday night. The only busy highway is the one that leads to the two airports, on the seafront, as the tourists are reluctantly, tearfully hurrying back to their homes with a trove of memories that they would hold onto a lifetime.

    It was not what they might have imagined Qatar to be, but the Qatar World Cup was fun, thrilling and beyond the wildest imagination. And gradually, after a month-long festival of football, with all its raw thrills, the country would slip into a suffocating silence, clutched in the nostalgia for a while, sliding into an emptiness, into the pre-World Cup days.

    The vacuum would be sudden. For a month they were in a dream-land; on the tiny peninsula were the eyes of the world, the colour of the globe. Never a tourist destination, the country was home to millions from around the world, from Ecuador to Mexico, Cameroon and Serbia.

    You could hear most languages and dialects in the world, see a variety of different costumes, tap your feet to the most indigenous of percussion instruments. A country of less than three million population and no more than the size of Mumbai saw a mass of humanity thrice as much.

    But in a matter of days, they would stumble into emptiness. The metro, the lifeblood and rendezvous for socialising of the tourists, would have as much space to play football. The bustling cobbled-stoned alleys of Souq Waqif would no longer bustle. Corniche would never be as packed as it had been during the World Cup. The fan parks are being dismantled. You could listen to the spluttering cranes. Qatar is crawling back to normalcy, to the days before the World Cup. To the tedium of everyday life. Football was a refuge. It no longer exists.

    What of the eight stadiums? They would feel the loneliest. For a month, they were abuzz and lively. The sand underneath the concrete structure would tell a tale of sweat and tears and joy the players had shed. Some would be dismantled and reassembled in Africa, some would wait for their next moment of glory, when it becomes abuzz again. Some would be converted into offices, some would be leased to local clubs. Some would stay as emblems of the days Qatar hosted the World Cup.

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    They would miss the players, the fans, and the music. Perhaps more than the country, it’s the stadiums that would shed tears on the glory that has passed, of the magic that was. How many years and decades would pass when they meet again, when the World Cup, or an event of such-like stature returns to the country. And the days and nights after Sunday will be long and boring. And with teary eyes, it bid farewell to the fans and football.





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