Matildas - unassailable thus far
Note: Matildas, aka Tillis, have been used in the text interchangeably
Cloistered up in a semi guarded platform, dangling down a sheer drop of 34-floor glass facade that encloses premium office space of Aon Towers at Barangaroo, two men were working with painstaking attention to every detail in bringing each glazed panel to life - I'll realize weeks later that life is Mary Fowler, a mere 20-year old who along with the rest of the Tillis will take the country by storm. On that day, however, I gave the green and gold a cursory glance from my office floor, wondered what was coming up when the men were half way through from the bottom, and gleaned from the lunch-table murmurs that Women's World Cup has commenced which is why the building was getting decked up.
I'm as much interested in sports as a lion is in broccoli. Yet my sports enthusiast spouse wouldn't let me miss any epoch-making moment - witnessing Ash Barty's monumental achievement in winning Australian Open, Nadal's victory over Medvedev to outstrip Federer in bagging the most number of Grand Slams, Stuart Broad's bowling in Ashes Test Series after which he declared retirement are only to name a few. Naturally, when he urges me to watch, I oblige. And fortunately so; otherwise, I'd have missed the dramatic moments that unfolded before millions of spectators to hurl Australian Women's National Football Team, Matildas, to semis for the first time in 150 years on 12th August.
By 7th August the icons of Australia - sails of Opera House and Parliament House - were a riot of green and gold. To match up with the rest of the city in cheering and supporting Tillis, students were requested to don green and gold ensemble at school ahead of the match against Denmark. My son grudgingly paired up a bright yellow t-shirt with green shorts to his all-boys school, clearly disinterested in supporting girls - understandably so at his age and maturity; not every child is Raducanu, Mary Fowler, or Alcaraz. But by then the fever has silently crept into every soul. And all that celebration did culminate into a smashing victory over Denmark in the Round of 16. "Woh!", was all my 16-year old uttered, clearly blown away at the amazing feat the girls pulled up.
The moment the Matildas paved their way to Quarter Finals, merchs were selling like hot cakes, tickets to watch the match were sold out, travel alerts and caveats were announced around shortage of accommodation in Brisbane that hosted their game against France. Australian PM declared a deserving National Holiday if they made it to finals and won.
Undoubtedly the Tillis moved heaven and earth to get this far. In the Quarter Finals against France at Brisbane Stadium they held their ground strong. Two arduous hours through the match, it was a tie - an undecisive outcome, neither team yielding to the other at 0-0. Both sides continued to play with pertinacity during the penalty shootout that turned out to be the longest in world history - yet the girls with nerves of steel did not buckle under the immense pressure that cumulatively built up with each player's turn totalling to 20 spot kicks. Both the teams fought tooth and nail as each of us held our breath only to heave a sigh at a "save" or a reciprocating "score" - team did not matter. My spouse kept uttering "sudden-death" and I grimaced at those ominous words, little knowing it was sports-parlance when the teams were tied after 5 chances of penalty shot each. But we both agreed either team deserved equal applause; it wasn't fair to lose the coveted spot at semis this way after such long haul! Yet, one had to be chosen. Finally, the Matildas rounded off the nail-biting crescendo with the much-awaited score by Cortnee Vine. It looked like Australia was destined to win - that incredible goal following the miss by Vicki Bècho felt surreal - France reeling into despair and Australia animated in celebration of their historic win right after.
For people like us, those last few minutes were all that mattered. When Vicki hit the left post, Aus goalie, Mackenzie Arnold, clearly lunged to the right obliterating any opportunity to "save". If that ball didn't ricochet at the post and hit the net instead or if the following one by Cortnee did not streak to the net squarely, then the circumstances would've been different. As I watched in thrill, it felt like someone from above was dictating the players like marionettes, enjoying the building up of crowd's consternation with ruthless delight like President Snow in Hunger Games, and finally smiled upon the Tillis. Whether someone was really writing the fate or not, the reverie was smashed by the outburst of onlookers, players, coach Tony Gustavsson, and all associated with the game. Sam Kerr and team nailed it!
Next day at office, as I stood by the lunch table with a cup of warm water, my eyes softened with deferential sweetness as I laid my eyes upon Mary Fowler on Aon's glass facade - now quite familiar than at the first sight. Even her black gloves from Big W are now talk of the paparazzi. Impossible is nothing.
To wrap up, here's best wishes to the Matildas against Lionesses of England in the upcoming semi-final tomorrow at 8 pm, Sydney Olympic Park. Stay true to your name, mighty in battles, while rest of the country brace up for the tough one with emotional bond and on-field feud both running strong!
PC: Oindrilaclicks and Fb page of Matildas
Write-up trigger: larger than life size Mary Fowler cladded in unmissable green-gold clamoring for attention on the glass wall of Aon, Barangaroo.
Dona, Sydney, 15th August, 2023
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