Can Qatar host a successful World Cup in 2022? That’s probably a moot question in terms of the Asian Cup, since so much of the country resembles an open construction site.
Eleven years is a long time between tournaments, and no doubt the army of construction workers who clog the footpaths and carparks of this tiny cheapest osrs gold desert nation will work overtime to transform Qatar from its present dusty state into a shining beacon of the Gulf.
For now, though, Asian Cup fans are left to struggle with a more pressing logistical problem – the traffic.
Doha: City of Traffic
The US government once suggested driving in Doha is akin to risking life and limb, which is why it makes more sense to employ the services of one of the city’s daring band of taxi drivers.
He’ll almost always hail from India – or Nepal, or Sri Lanka or a similar neighbouring state – and most crucially, he’ll treat other road users and pedestrians with the contempt they deserve when time is of the essence.
And time is always of the essence in Doha – in peak hour, at any rate – when you’re stranded on Al Waab Street behind miles of stationary traffic. Fortunately the problem is solved by simply driving along the dusty shoulder, as pedestrians scurry and law-abiding citizens curse the temerity of your admittedly deranged cabbie.
What a difference a minute makes.
Anfield hero Kenny Dalglish, returning as Liverpool’s manager after a decade’s sabbatical, was an unexpected picture of sunny composure before kick-off against Manchester United today, relaxed and joking about his upcoming assault on Mount Everest.
Was this smiling Scot the same Dalglish whose tense and dour façade confronted the cameras the last time he was in charge at Anfield? The same manager would often slip into thick Glaswegian to deliberately confuse the pesky interviewers, until the unresolved pain of Hillsborough meant he could bottle his inner turmoil up no longer.
His resignation in 1991 following a grueling 4-4 derby draw, came as a real shock. We know top managers are under permanent pressure, particularly when relegation fears place them under what they themselves call ‘deathwatch’, but they do not tend to walk out citing stress when their teams are riding high.
King Kenny had unfinished business with the Reds, and mentally as well as physically had never left Liverpool, but it took 90 seconds, not minutes today in Manchester, to remind him that football folk are crazy. A controversial penalty, courtesy of a Dimitar Berbatov fall to earth, pushed Liverpool onto the back foot and plunged Dalglish back to 1991, the stress returning for the first time in years. Then Steven Gerrard was shown red for a flying lunge and a nightmare had descended upon Kenny’s second coming.
Every cut to the visitors’ bench showed a man possessed by the past, the initial radiance drained from a suddenly aged and haunted face, the warmth of a long-desired homecoming replaced by the unforgiving chill of the wind of defeat. There was to be no first-game fillip for Dalglish’s new Liverpool, who enjoyed some promising spells but failed to threaten the Red Devils meaningfully.
Whatever may happen between now and the season’s climax in May, rest assured Dalglish will go to bed a troubled man tonight, tossing and turning in his sleep after only one day in his dream job, recoiling at the taste of the poisoned chalice he leapt onto a plane in Dubai to drink from.
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