RedWine
02-27-2006, 11:10 AM
Few Iranian football fanatics would consider their national team’s performance in the 2004 edition of the Asian Cup as dire. Flawless, it was not; world class, hardly so; but satisfactory, without a doubt. In fact, most would educe the performance as above average—an attacking football with an array of promising signs. And this rather sanguine eduction would arise from what has just been illumined: the promising signs. Those elements of optimism were the tracks for the train of the supportive majority; a majority that saw Branko Ivankovic as a respectable and fitting coach for the ever talented Team Melli.
An Ivankovic that had moulded into the often convoluted state of Iranian society, an Ivankovic that had witnessed the failure of his fellow Croatian (Miroslav Blazevic) in qualifying for the 2002 FIFA World Cup, and an Ivankovic that seemed to extract just the right mix of talented youths and experienced veterans from the vast pool of Iranian players, was seen as the one who would propel Iran’s football into modernization, professionalism, and, ultimately, success. These three modules of attainment would, indubitably, be epitomized in Iran’s advance to the round of 16 in Germany.
And this visionary objective was, as most Iranians would attest, the collective position of the country. Surely so, Iran’s uncharacteristic early qualification to Germany imprisoned voices of concern in regards to the not-so-dominant showings—not knowing that the very same voices would escape months later, only ruthlessly amplified. Again, however, the fusion of time, resources, and Team Melli’s remarkable talent, appeared to be completely sufficient, even in the most illogical of minds, in devising a compelling World Cup campaign. So support continued, expectations arose, and the people awaited action…
write this editorial as I anxiously anticipate the opening ceremonies of the 2006 FIFA World Cup in Germany. Less than four months away, in around fifteen weeks, lies the greatest, most popular, and most monumental of all sporting events. A competition that, as I like to say, is unimaginatively more substantial than the United Nations in promoting world unity, amity, and peace.
Correspondingly, as I take a look around the football world, I witness the extensive preparation of most qualified nations, examples of which I deem as unnecessary to list. And yet, our beloved Team Melli is—as you have guessed—in what is ostensibly a coerced hibernation. Interestingly enough, while our footballers have been extremely quiet on and off the field, concerns and frustrations have been piercingly dispatched by Iranian fans—at least in their own secluded communities.
Concerns that not only call for attention to the problems within the confinements of the white lines on the green rectangle, but also in the organization that an Iranian named Dr. Dadkan runs. The Iranian Football Federation (IFF) has been, without disobeying journalistic etiquette, rather disappointing—an understatement that only Iranian fans can truly sense. The pain multiplies when amid speculations that such inactivity is politically motivated, the IFF discloses no substansive information.
With the intention of avoiding redundancy, I will withhold from stating the often talked about shortcomings of the IFF. The IFF’s limited competence and effectiveness is of the rare subjects of discussions that all Iran football fans unanimously agree on. As a football fan of Iran, I, too, share the same standpoint. On the outside, it seems to me and the average fan that the IFF is not doing all it can for the betterment of Iranian football; it appears as if there exist some fundamental obstructions in the course of progress.
Whatever the case may be, what is of a high degree of certitude is a lack of a comprehensive and long-term plan. And what the inquiring minds of Iranian football fans would genuinely like to know is why there are little or no positive existing plans of action. I would once and for all like to ask the IFF, on behalf of many, what of the many promises you have made? What of the money received for World Cup preparation from FIFA?
What of the countless number of friendly matches and training camps that were “confirmed?” And most importantly, in the most straightforward of manners I would like to ask the IFF, why not implement honesty in your actions? If the obstacles are political, financial, organizational, or otherwise, why not simply reveal them? Frankly, I am dreadfully exhausted from these IFF-induced emotional rollercoasters. What we ask for, at the very least, is utmost honesty. I, however sceptical, remain hopeful in receiving a response of some sort.
An Ivankovic that had moulded into the often convoluted state of Iranian society, an Ivankovic that had witnessed the failure of his fellow Croatian (Miroslav Blazevic) in qualifying for the 2002 FIFA World Cup, and an Ivankovic that seemed to extract just the right mix of talented youths and experienced veterans from the vast pool of Iranian players, was seen as the one who would propel Iran’s football into modernization, professionalism, and, ultimately, success. These three modules of attainment would, indubitably, be epitomized in Iran’s advance to the round of 16 in Germany.
And this visionary objective was, as most Iranians would attest, the collective position of the country. Surely so, Iran’s uncharacteristic early qualification to Germany imprisoned voices of concern in regards to the not-so-dominant showings—not knowing that the very same voices would escape months later, only ruthlessly amplified. Again, however, the fusion of time, resources, and Team Melli’s remarkable talent, appeared to be completely sufficient, even in the most illogical of minds, in devising a compelling World Cup campaign. So support continued, expectations arose, and the people awaited action…
write this editorial as I anxiously anticipate the opening ceremonies of the 2006 FIFA World Cup in Germany. Less than four months away, in around fifteen weeks, lies the greatest, most popular, and most monumental of all sporting events. A competition that, as I like to say, is unimaginatively more substantial than the United Nations in promoting world unity, amity, and peace.
Correspondingly, as I take a look around the football world, I witness the extensive preparation of most qualified nations, examples of which I deem as unnecessary to list. And yet, our beloved Team Melli is—as you have guessed—in what is ostensibly a coerced hibernation. Interestingly enough, while our footballers have been extremely quiet on and off the field, concerns and frustrations have been piercingly dispatched by Iranian fans—at least in their own secluded communities.
Concerns that not only call for attention to the problems within the confinements of the white lines on the green rectangle, but also in the organization that an Iranian named Dr. Dadkan runs. The Iranian Football Federation (IFF) has been, without disobeying journalistic etiquette, rather disappointing—an understatement that only Iranian fans can truly sense. The pain multiplies when amid speculations that such inactivity is politically motivated, the IFF discloses no substansive information.
With the intention of avoiding redundancy, I will withhold from stating the often talked about shortcomings of the IFF. The IFF’s limited competence and effectiveness is of the rare subjects of discussions that all Iran football fans unanimously agree on. As a football fan of Iran, I, too, share the same standpoint. On the outside, it seems to me and the average fan that the IFF is not doing all it can for the betterment of Iranian football; it appears as if there exist some fundamental obstructions in the course of progress.
Whatever the case may be, what is of a high degree of certitude is a lack of a comprehensive and long-term plan. And what the inquiring minds of Iranian football fans would genuinely like to know is why there are little or no positive existing plans of action. I would once and for all like to ask the IFF, on behalf of many, what of the many promises you have made? What of the money received for World Cup preparation from FIFA?
What of the countless number of friendly matches and training camps that were “confirmed?” And most importantly, in the most straightforward of manners I would like to ask the IFF, why not implement honesty in your actions? If the obstacles are political, financial, organizational, or otherwise, why not simply reveal them? Frankly, I am dreadfully exhausted from these IFF-induced emotional rollercoasters. What we ask for, at the very least, is utmost honesty. I, however sceptical, remain hopeful in receiving a response of some sort.