HUMAN TRAGEDY CLOSE TO HOME

IT WAS an absolute privilege to be at the Homeless World Cup in Glasgow a fortnight ago.The competition ended last weekend with Mexico scooping the major awards, but, as somebody pointed out at the event, everyone was a winner. There was something very thought-provoking about being in Glasgow. Seeing members of the 60-odd teams walking around the city, taking selfies and enjoying some form of mild celebrity – Bulgaria and Hungary were clearly enjoying themselves – was a humbling experience for somebody who has enjoyed a relatively comfortable life, compared to that endured by some of the young people taking part in the HWC 2016. In the developed world, indeed any world, homelessness should not exist in the 21st Century. We all feel uncomfortable about the word because it is something we all fear.We see it in different ways, but when I told people I was going to Glasgow to see the HWC, initially they didn’t believe that such a competition existed. Then, they asked ‘How do they afford to take part in that?’ and made snipes along the lines of ‘Take a peg for your nose’. Comments such as these confirm we merely associate homelessness with cardboard boxes and dereliction round railway arches. The hard-nosed among us brush the subject away with suggestions that some homelessness is self-inflicted. Such reactions made me all the more determined to attend this year’s HWC in Scotland. I’m no philanthropist and I am selective about charitable support, but this is a subject that pricks my conscience more than most causes. The Homeless World Cup was the brainchild of Mel Young, the man who launched The Big Issue in Scotland. At first glance,Young looks like a distant relative of Scottish football icon Kenny Dalglish, but he’s become almost as legendary as King Kenny for his work with homeless people.

Pleaded

It was certainly a big event in Glasgow on a drizzly and humid Sunday. Being Scotland, there was only one way the teams could be introduced to the crowd – by swirling bagpipes.The 48 men’s and 16 women’s teams were piped into the arena for the opening ceremony, a colourful spectacle with the flags of all nations on display. All countries bar one were heartily cheered, the exception being England! “Let’s keep it positive, ladies and gentlemen,” pleaded the announcer, whose wishes were granted for the rest of the day. The jeering was good-natured, in the spirit of the occasion, and, when England later met Russia, there was no barracking and, unlike Euro 2016, no crowd trouble! The opening games in the main arena both involved Scotland, the men kicking off the HWC 2016 against Hong Kong. The Scots ran out 8-4 winners, with an experienced head orchestrating affairs at the back and scoring a couple of goals to help the hosts to a comfortable win. His name was Benyamin Aghaei, a 37-year-old from Iran. He was the man of the match against Hong Kong and told me that he had “played a bit” when I congratulated him on his performance. Likewise, the Scottish women had a stand-out player in the diminutive Karren Boggie, who was nippy, skilful and a real leader. Scotland beat Norway 111 in the first women’s game of the tournament. To some, the result was less important than actually being there and being proud to represent their country. National anthems were sung with a verve and emotion not found in senior football.There was also skill on display. Chile passed the ball around with precision and energy against Slovenia, running out 17-0 winners. I was especially touched by the Cambodians.They had the smallest fellow in the competition in Minea Chan, an 18-year-old who was a determined ball-player, willing to challenge Finnish players who had considerably more body mass than him. Chan, when he wasn’t cajoling his team-mates or (seemingly) complaining, had an excellent 14 minutes against a robust Finland. I shook his hand after the game and he smiled, put his hands together and bowed in acknowledgement. You couldn’t help but be moved by these youngsters. It was a richly entertaining afternoon on the first day. Notwithstanding that some of these footballers have tales of deprivation, drug addiction, crime, neglect and abuse somewhere in there, they play with a sense of joy that we’ve long forgotten existed in some corners of top level football. I saw one women in tears as the opening ceremony unfolded before our eyes and I went away from day one with my faith in human nature strengthened. One thing is certain: this won’t be the last Homeless World Cup I attend. I just wish I could have stayed longer.