A World Cup connection in...Echuca
Admittedly, football isn’t the dominant sport in many parts of Australia.
And I can tell you that in Echuca, it certainly isn’t.
The town was recently awarded a bronze medal at Australia’s Top Tourism Town Awards in Canberra.
It’s a drawcard for river-loving tourists (and I guess paddle steamer lovers, if that’s such a thing).
And being in Northern Victoria, it’s also right at the centre of footy’s heartland.
From early April to late September, the sport takes centre stage.
I’m in a good position to comment, given I currently work at Echuca’s newspaper, the Riverine Herald.
We have a vested interest in five different footy leagues, and even though all have recently finished, the coverage doesn’t stop.
Now it’s all about what the also-rans are doing to rectify disappointing seasons, how premiers are adding more talent to their ranks, or who won their club’s best and fairest.
Right now, the big story I’m covering, and what every local footy nut cares about, is young Cody Walker, expected to be drafted right near the top of November’s AFL draft.
But even in a place where families attending Saturday afternoon footy matches is a ritual, football can still have its moments in the sun.
I first noticed it on June 14.
Yes, when Australia played Türkiye at the World Cup.
While most of the country was settling on their couches for the afternoon kick-off, I was working.
The plan was to start earlier, finish everything in time, and race down to the pub to watch the game.
The reality was a little different.
The game started, and my colleague and I still had a few things to finish up.
So we watched the first half, doing our best to stay on task (with little success).
Minute 27. Paul Okon-Engstler plays a lofted pass into space. I’m up and out of my chair.
Nestory Irankunda latches onto it, cuts inside and finishes spectacularly into the bottom corner.
Cue a euphoric scream by yours truly as I run around the office like a madman (my colleague seated at his chair, wondering what on earth I was doing).
Australia go into half-time 1-0 up, and by then, I’ve done my work and am headed to The Caledonian Hotel, the unofficial football pub in town.
As I arrive, I’m not expecting a huge crowd inside.
Ok, it’s a weekend, and it’s Australia, but no one really cares about the sport here, right?
Wrong. I walked in, and the place was packed.
I don’t know if any other passionate Australian football fans have this reaction, but when I see a huge crowd, whether at a social gathering or stadium, watching the sport, I do tend to tear up a little.
It’s a feeling of, wait a minute, this sport still commands respect and can still unify, regardless of internal and external factors which constantly try to undermine it.
So now I’m watching in the pub, more than comfortable to voice my opinion on every action, even if those around me are more subdued football fans than I’m used to.
Minute 75. Cries of “go” echo in the pub as Connor Metcalfe receives the ball on the half-turn and drives forward.
He shoots from about 25 yards and finds the bottom corner, and the place goes nuts.
At full-time, everyone is clapping and giving the Socceroos the praise they earned that day.
And regardless of what sporting team you are in this country, if you perform, you will be respected.
But why, almost four months later, am I suddenly writing about this experience?
Earlier this week I interviewed a local footy player who was actually there.
Interestingly, this player ruptured his ACL at the start of the year but didn’t want surgery straight away.
Why? Because he was travelling to watch every Socceroos game at the tournament and didn’t want rehab to interrupt it.
When he mentions it during the interview, my ears perk up. Ok, I’ve got to understand the extent of his football fandom.
It turns out Michael is a big Tottenham fan (unfortunately).
His footy career also saw him play for West Adelaide in the South Australia National Football League, where he’d occasionally go watch Adelaide United games.
Michael briefly tells me that he remembers watching Irankunda and Mohamed Toure when they were teenagers.
As do I.
And you take a minute and realise a journalist and footy player in Echuca, Northern Victoria, AFL heartland, are talking about watching a couple of Socceroos play at Coopers Stadium a few years earlier.
And for me, that day in the office, it was quite surreal watching Irankunda score, a kid I share the same home city with.
When you leave home, you grow fonder of what comes from that place, and you feel pride when you can talk about it with a group of people 700 kilometres away.
Particularly when some people in the group would’ve had no clue who Irankunda was until that moment.
I thought it was all pretty cool.
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