Yes, I am 'a bit funny' about football

BY MATT LAWREY

The indoctrination process has started.

This week, I had the pleasure of sticking a poster of the All Whites on the wall in our boys' room. At 1 1/2 and 3 3/4 they're too young to appreciate the significance of New Zealand qualifying for next year's World Cup finals, but hopefully they'll make a connection between the poster and the lads who play in South Africa next year.

If everything goes according to plan, they'll then follow in their dad's footsteps and become footballers (as opposed to rugby players), thereby making me happy and avoiding the dangers that can come with rugby and the culture that surrounds it.

You don't have to be Ricki Herbert to know that what happened in Wellington a week ago was a big deal.

I was 12 when he and the rest of the 1981 team made the finals in Spain and, at the time, it was one of the highlights of my life. Looking at the footage from that campaign – the moustaches and those very short shorts – it feels like more than 28 years ago.

This explains my surprise at the intensity of emotions that surfaced when the All Whites beat Bahrain.

When Rory Fallon put us in the lead I screamed and ran around like a man with his pants on fire. When Mark Paston saved that penalty, I just about went through the roof, and when the fulltime whistle blew I leapt off the couch yelling like I'd been tasered.

For the nation's football fans, Saturday's triumph brought jubilation, excitement and an immense feeling of relief. Not just relief for having won, but relief for knowing that, finally, football is back.

There was so much I liked about the game. There was the intensity on Ryan Nelsen's face while the national anthem was playing and the almost carnal way he yanked his shirt out from under his tracksuit and kissed the silver fern. There was the team's unflinching commitment and the way they refused to choke. There was the big beautiful, rapturous New Zealand sports crowd and how good they looked in white, instead of the usual dreary black. There were the signs that said "Will lose for oil" and "White Power!".

Another aspect of the All White's win that makes me smile is the happiness it's brought new New Zealanders.

For many immigrants, coming to New Zealand doesn't just mean having to say goodbye to family and friends; it means being separated from football.

The All Whites' success has not only given them a New Zealand team to cheer for, it's given them something to look forward to.

On a personal note, it's been novel to find myself reading stories in the sports pages for the first time in years.

There are many differences between when New Zealand qualified for the World Cup in 1981 and now, but the one I like most is this – in 2009 it is socially acceptable to be a fan of both rugby and football, as our football-mad, Rugby World Cup-loving Nelson city councillor Aldo Miccio proves every day.

Back in the 1980s, at least half the country considered you a poof if you played or followed football.

I remember my first girlfriend's cauliflower-eared, man-of-few-words father asking me if I liked kissing my team-mates when one of us scored a goal.

In fact, it's entirely possible the only reason his daughter went out with me for a whole six months was because she knew dating a "soccer poof" would drive her dad nuts.

Then there was my great-aunt Mary who, when I was 16, asked me when I was going to play rugby. When I told her that wasn't going to happen because I loved football so much, she looked me sternly in the eye and said: "You're not a bit funny, are you?"

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