But when the police started cracking heads with the butts of their AK-47 machine guns, I had to admit this was not another case of drunken British soccer hooligans embarrassing their country during a World Cup tournament.
In fact, the soccer fanatics in Kabul, where the match in question was played Friday, were banned from tuning in to the last World Cup four years ago–or any television show for that matter. So it was only natural that all of Afghanistan had some pent-up emotion when an all-star squad of top Afghan players took on a makeshift side of international peacekeepers in a goodwill match. I thought it was going to be a half-rate scrimmage with players wearing sweats and sneakers. Oh, how I was wrong. It was the biggest sporting event here in recent memory. More than 30,000 tickets were sold, but nearly 40,000 showed up at the stadium hoping to somehow get in. And they certainly did try. Mobs of fans rushed each and every gate into the stadium, some luckily pushing their way through heavily armed Afghan police and German and Dutch peacekeepers. Others resorted to scaling walls or crawling through holes in them into an underground bathroom that likely hadn’t been cleaned since the Russian Army pulled out in 1989. Hundreds of people who had actually bought tickets couldn’t get near the gates, so it was only a matter of time before the crowd got aggressive. The peacekeepers responded in kind, blocking entrances with trucks and bringing out several large German shepherds to help keep the mob at bay.
Somehow I walked unscathed to the main entrance, only to stare down a clearly agitated German peacekeeper. He saw my credentials dangling from my neck, suddenly screamed “Press,” grabbed me by my jacket and stuffed me through a wall of soldiers blocking the gate. I turned around in time to catch my Afghan translator, who had also been stuffed. But who cared? We were in.
The scene inside the stadium was far different and, thankfully, calm. A sea of bodies were sitting in orderly fashion in the stands as a military band of British Gurkha soldiers performed on the field. Players, coaches and officials from the professional soccer associations of Germany and England were chatting with the press. There was even a VIP box for government officials and foreign military commanders. It dawned on me as I walked along the field that until recently the Taliban regime had used the stadium for public executions and decapitations. But not anymore. Only nets were on the goalposts where prisoners were once hanged, and match referees stood on the midfield stripe where Taliban doctors once sawed off hands and feet.
The horrors of Afghanistan’s two-decade civil war cannot be erased overnight, but little things like a soccer match are a start. “The wider message is that the stadium, which was used for things it shouldn’t have been used for, has finally returned to what is should be used for,” David Davies, executive director of the British Football Association, told me. The Taliban had banned most sports during its brutal five-year rule as an insult to Islam. When the soccer teams resisted, the Taliban caved in, but ordered them to wear pants so their bare legs wouldn’t show. That rule was thrown out as fast as the Taliban was last November, and both the Afghans and peacekeepers wore shorts and jerseys donated by England.
The match itself was exciting enough, with both sides showing good skills despite having limited time to train. The Afghan side looked like it would dominate after an electrifying early goal by star striker Said Tair, who bicycle-kicked a cross into the corner of the net. The entire Afghan team rushed onto the field in celebration–as did the coaches, assistants, trainers, relatives, friends and what seemed like half of the home fans. The place was rocking, but the peacekeepers weren’t deterred. Their side had players from perennial soccer nations England, Germany, Holland, Italy and France. They used their superior size and strength to control the ball, and tied the score at 1-1 before halftime. There was one last attempt at justice by the rioting fans outside, who launched a salvo of stones into the stadium, hitting several people in the stands. But their defiance fizzled out, and so did the Afghan team. In the second half, the peacekeepers added two quick goals in a three-minute span and cruised to a 3-1 victory. There was physical play and some hard fouls by both sides, but the players demonstrated fine sportsmanship. Some Western spectators said the peacekeepers, as visitors here, should have eased up after tying the game. But they were mooted by Danish goalkeeper Henrik Kristensen, who told me, “We played to win.” So did the Afghans, who seemed a little disappointed to have lost to the first foreign team to play in Kabul in 20 years. “We want the world to help our program in the future so we can get better results against international teams,” said Tair, the lone scorer for the Afghan side. The goal earned him a $130 bonus and an hour’s worth of free international telephone calls. Tair told me he was happy to take the gifts–even though he said he couldn’t think of anyone outside of Afghanistan whom he’d like to call. Take that, England.
