Al Bidda Park is warming up to play host to the World Cup party nobody wants to be at.
And with just 48 hours to go until the big kick off the atmosphere is about as frenzied as your nan’s 90th.
On the fringes of Al Bidda park in Doha is The Corniche, a promenade stretching more than four miles along the waterfront in Qatar’s capital city.
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It should be the perfect setting as the centre stage of the biggest football tournament on the planet. Thirty two nations coming together and the greatest players in the world from Europe and South America rubbing shoulders with the no-hopers from elsewhere and everybody has a cracking time.
Yet there is a distinct feeling that no matter what happens on the heavily irrigated pitches raised out of the desert between now and December 18, this World Cup is already condemned as a disaster.
Wrong place, wrong time and no matter what Cristiano Ronaldo, Kylian Mbappe or Harry Kane do over the next month, Qatar 2022 is just something to get over and done with.
That appears to be what the locals feel too, if you can find any.
Along The Corniche on Thursday evening around sunset at 5pm, there were a few white-robed families strolling, taking in the admittedly stunning views and comfortable warmth at dusk.
In the large expanse of the Community Viewing Area beside the water a four-piece, roller-skating, breakdancing boy band were putting their heart and soul into recreating classic disco hits on a neon-lit stage. The throb of the music could be heard 200 metres away and the sound and pyrotechnics drew you in.
The ‘mosh pit’ in front of the stage consisted of 15 people, mainly men and mainly in the overalls that symbolise the immigrant workers doing the heavy work to make Doha ready for a festival that may never get off the ground.
Undeterred, the English lead vocalist up on stage partied on nonetheless: As a true performer with a pay cheque waiting at the end of the session he even called out ‘I love your energy Doha’ as the baffled group of blokes in front of him stood and filmed his act on mobile phones to show the folks back home in India.
It was as far away from Glasto as you can get. Yet unabashed, the four boys skated backstage after their last number only to reappear for an encore that nobody had called for. A sorry sight.
Of course, there are always stories like this before World Cups. Tales of woe of overpriced beer, heavy-handed police, how hooliganism will end the football early and how fan parks will be empty. But just 48 hours before host nation minnows Qatar get things underway against mighty Ecuador, the most controversial World Cup to date looks doomed to failure.
It is not even being shown on terrestrial TV here, denying most of the population the opportunity to watch the football at home.
Journalists have already been told that if any of the games do not sell out, they can claim a seat in the stands for free just to make the grounds look full.
It takes effort to spot the few locals who have signed up to the theme of a football extravaganza being visited upon a country whose highest FIFA ranking is 53 and who have no established players employed by clubs abroad.
The issue of workers’ rights, Illegality of same sex relationships and a watchful, oppressive regime will only be overshadowed momentarily if Messi scores a hat trick at his fifth and final World Cup.
Too much damage has been done already to rescue what should be the greatest showcasing of the beautiful game.
Even South Africa, a relative desert for football, managed to whip up some energy with the cursed vuvuzelas. Russia, with all its political problems even pre-Ukraine, was able to embrace the sport and put on a show, because it has a sense of history in football terms.
Qatar is flat in every respect on the eve of the first World Cup to be staged in European winter time.
The country is spotless. There is zero graffiti, no litter beside the eight lane highways that continually hum to the sound of oversized, white 4x4s zooming along fuelled by cheap petrol.
The modest underground train system runs on time and is squeaky clean, staffed by friendly travel guides desperate to show you the way.
It should be a dream but in reality football is a grotty game.
It feels most at home in grimy, tatty neighbourhoods, with fervent fans living in close proximity. With crowded, street corner bars showing the games on a large screen.
Having only been here for three days it is blatantly obvious that is not going to happen here, because it is not their way.
That is fair enough but anything the organisers do to try to convince us it is, will only make this get-together of the best teams in the world feel even more out of place.
*18+ | BeGambleAware
