On the 10-year anniversary of ‘that night’ in November 2005, the Outside90 editors recount their memories of the famous Australia vs Uruguay tie and what the result meant to them.
Adrian’s memories
@Outside90
I was 16 at the time, crammed into a boarding house TV room with 30-35 other peers and to tell you the truth I think there were three people that actually played the game and at a stretch four or five that genuinely supported football.
This truly was foreign territory for all the majority involved. I was one of those few who loved their football, but can admit and accept I was more of a ‘Euro snob’ who only consumed premium club football.
Pure pandemonium swept through the room when John Aloisi struck his definitive winning penalty. I couldn’t control my emotions, and like six months previous when I broke down in tears when Liverpool claimed a miraculous Champions League crown, ecstasy and emotion had engulfed me once again.
Simply put, sport is mind-blowing how it can make you feel this way.
This was the day when football rose out of mediocrity – or ‘no man’s land’ to put it bluntly – and nestled itself into the mainstream of Australian sporting culture.
I went from an ardent English football fan to an engaged supporter of the national team and A-League – no doubt one of many to be converted and committed to the Socceroos and helping to promote and grow the game in our beloved country.
That day changed everything, and football has never looked back.
Hugh’s memories
@cactushugh
Having woken up at some ungodly hour to witness what was ultimately a heartbreaking defeat to the Uruguayans at the final hurdle four years previous, this was the chance to put 30+ years of nightmares to rest on our home soil.
Legends of Australian football were vindicated that night. Mark Viduka, Harry Kewell, Mark Schwarzer were players I had idolised for their exploits in the English Premier League and now they would deservedly get the opportunity to fly our colours high on the beautiful game’s biggest stage.
This was the first time I can remember seeing the whole country come together behind one single cause and the scenes following John Aloisi’s successful penalty will be remembered forever. From the night of 16 November 2005 until the Socceroos returned from the World Cup in Germany, everybody seemed to be a football fan dedicated to the green and gold.
Ben’s memories
@BenjaminNTosi
Family. That’s what 16 November, 2005 means to me. It was the night an Australian footballing family was born, forged even, out of years of heartache and despair.
Being only 10 years of age, my memories are hazy…
I remember walking to the ground, green and gold overtaking Olympic Park.
I remember our seats, the definition of ‘Row Z’.
I remember not being quick enough out of my seat to see Bresciano’s equaliser. Instead, I heard it – I felt it.
Finally, I remember that storied penalty shootout.
I remember not wanting anything more than to see Aloisi’s penalty make a home in the back of the net.
I remember the sheer jubilation.
It is phenomenal how that moment has impacted our nation’s sporting landscape. There was never a debate on the greatest ‘footballing’ code or arguments over stadium allocations between sports. That night brought Australia into a footballing era and oh, how we have flourished. Three consecutive World Cup appearances an Asian Cup triumph and our Matilda’s challenging the best the women’s game have to offer.
It is simple – everything that we treasure about our growing football landscape came to life on that fateful night.
He told us so.
Evan’s memories
@WWofSport
A decade on, and with two more World Cup appearances logged, the memories of November 16, 2005 may have faded slightly. Time, trudging on as it must, wears steadily, adding a creased, speckled patina to everything, and with each passing year the reverberations that rang out that day echo ever more faintly into the distance. But all we need do is pause, turn, and squint back over the horizon into the golden sun, and it all comes rushing back, a glorious zephyr of euphoria, of John Aloisi’s twirling jersey, of Craig Foster’s unbridled whooping, memories of the place we earned at the grand table after 31 wintry years.
Uruguay, it bears remembering, had won a World Cup, and had had football coursing through the national veins for more than half a century. They had bested us before, four years earlier, at the same qualifying stage. Watching that second leg kick off, in my father’s living room, and not with any acute awareness of the situation, I nevertheless felt a daunting weight, as we all did. Another four years of disappointment loomed, a charred guillotine, with our dried blood still on it. The match was a vigourous tussle. The tension of the penalty shoot-out was almost too much to bear. And then, Mark Schwarzer’s unyielding right hand… Aloisi’s immortal left foot… and a fledgling football nation rose as one.
Joel’s memories
@JoelFruch
Ten at the time, I had zero interest – and I mean zero interest – in football before that night. I was a huge AFL fan and had watched barely a minute of football in my life.
The match was on TV, yet I had no clue what was going on and, more importantly, what was at stake. I didn’t know who Guus Hiddink was. I didn’t know who Mark Viduka was. I didn’t know who Harry Kewell was. It was left to some family friends to explain to me what was on the line and the story of Australia’s long and painful World Cup absence.
That caught my imagination, and suddenly I was gripped. I vividly remember John Aloisi netting that famous penalty, the fist pumping in the room, Craig Foster’s unforgettable celebration and my first ever Socceroos kit, which I bought a matter of days later – Aloisi #15. Until that point, I had never seen anything quite like the unbelievable euphoria of Homebush celebrating as one.
That night showed me what football was. This was what the fuss was about. And I could not be more thankful for it.
Sophie’s memories
@SophEdmondstone
Somewhere in a cupboard in my house is an old family video of my dad’s immediate reaction to the Socceroos’ heartbreaking loss to Iran in 1997. Filmed in jest by my mother, the video is simply a depressing example of my father’s painful journey of following countless Socceroos World Cup qualification campaigns.
That video (although certainly amusing in hindsight) reminds me of how important the 16th November, 2005 was to ardent Australian football fans like my dad. Prior to the game, I had absolutely no interest in football. I was forced to sit in front of the TV by my dad because he was adamant that “history would be made.” For most of the match, I had little knowledge of what was going on. But ten years on, I still vividly remember the moment when John Aloisi scored that winning penalty, because it meant so much to my dad. From that moment I became a football fan.
Dom’s memories
@DomFavata
Where do you start?
November 16, 2005 will always be a part of my DNA as a football loving individual. It was special, it remains special and it will always be special in the hearts of Australian football fans. Never has my spine tingled like it did that faithful night.
It was the night that made the sport ‘cool’ in this country, cool enough that the day after the Socceroos had defeated Uruguay on penalties to seal a place in the 2006 World Cup, us kids at school had a new sport to play at recess. ‘Soccer’ was put on the map, and names like Aloisi, Schwarzer and Bresciano became folklore on the playground.
Ten years on and I remember that night like it was only yesterday. Sitting in the lounge room, glued to the TV and my 11-year-old self just fixated by the sheer excitement of the match. I was by no means addicted to ‘soccer’ at that stage in my life, but this match left me with a taste for more.
Football is now my life, my passion, my job…my drug.
Marissa’s memories
@maridanic_
I was late to the football party in this country. I could not tell you where I was or what I was doing on November 16, 2005. I was 10 years old and in all honesty, I probably didn’t even know there was a game going on. I was completely oblivious to the fact that history was being made in the country.
Fast forward a few years and the effects of that night at Telstra Stadium are everywhere.
As my love for football grew I couldn’t escape that night. The replays of the penalty on TV, singing “Aloisi, Johnny Aloisi” for years to come, seeing the image of the rest of the team exultant, jubilant, photographed just seconds after the ball hit the back of the net on books and posters, revering the names of the legends that arose from that night. Aloisi. Schwarzer. Bresciano.
Football in this country as I know and love it now would be nothing without that night. Hell, I may not have even been given the opportunity to fall in love with this beautiful game without that night.
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