Back of the nyet! Russia’s World Cup kicks off
A transformed arena, 80,000 Putin supporters and a 5-0 victory mark a short yet functional opener
THE Russians wore red, the Saudis green, and Robbie Williams chose leopard print.
But it was Vladimir Putin’s impassive, contented smile that drew the biggest cheers from the Luzhniki stadium’s overwhelmingly Russian crowd at the World Cup opening ceremony yesterday.
“I congratulate all of you at the start of the most important championship in the world,” Mr Putin declared, in the precise, mechanical imitation of warm feeling he reserves for sporting events and his New Year address.
“Love for football unites the entire world, regardless of people’s language or ideology. Good luck to all the teams. Welcome to Russia!”
As an opening speech, it was political boiler plate, but the 80,000-strong crowd – and it was clearly Mr Putin’s crowd – loved it.
For a World Cup eight years and £10billion in the making, last night’s opening ceremony was always meant as another showcase for Mr Putin’s ongoing obsession: his nation’s renewed political and economic power on the world stage.
There was a time when the Russian president would have sensed the eyes of the world on him and switched to English to drive that message home. But yesterday, he stuck to Russian.
It was a decision that said the Putin who felt the need to woo the world in the language of the West is gone.
Even before the Russian team hammered Saudi Arabia 5-0, things were going about as well as the Russian leader could have hoped.
The presence of Mohammed bin Salman, Saudi Arabia’s crown prince, alongside Mr Putin only confirmed Russia’s new place as a power broker in the war-ravaged Middle East.
The silky smooth organisation – not a hooligan in sight, a gleaming Luzhniki stadium, unrecognisable from the concrete hulk of a decade ago, and international crowds having a good time – defied fears of violence.
The home team’s humiliation of the Saudi side will have sent a surge of pride through a nation long starved of sporting success.
The very fact it happened at all confounded critics who see the World Cup in
Russia as an endorsement of a corrupt and aggressive regime.
When Russia won the bid nearly a decade ago, football matches at this very stadium had an air of decay, poverty, and the threat of violence.
Boisterous fans would spill out of the Sportivnaya metro station to be filtered and funnelled through massed phalanxes of bluecamouflaged paramilitary riot police, until they entered a stadium short on comforts and heavy on draughts.
The scenes in this sprawling Olympic park in the crook of the Moscow river last night could not have been more different. A mild-mannered army of fans poured out of Sportivnaya and were met not by riot police – who, while present, kept a low profile – but by students on high chairs shouting “welcome to Russia” into loud hailers. Exuberance was confined to silly hats, national flags, and occasional, brief chants. A handful of Saudi fans in dish-dashes held portraits of King Salman and the crown prince. “I’m quite optimistic. It’s Russia. We should be able to do something,” said Muath, 24, from Saudi Arabia’s Eastern province, before kick-off. That optimism will have lasted little longer than the somewhat functional 15-minute opening ceremony.
Runners in green spangled suits pulled out Russia’s biggest sheet. Others in white and gold trotted out. What appeared to be a cardboard Chinese dragon cantered out of one of the tunnels and began to parade around the pitch, accompanied by extras carrying red and yellow surfboards.
This was apparently meant to be a Slavic firebird – an ancient Russian phoenix who avaricious kings send plucky young heroes to catch.
Then suddenly, Robbie Williams appeared and began to belt his way through a series of turn of the millennium hits. He was lively, energetic, and knew how to deliver.
But he, too, knew whose party he was at, and didn’t sing Party Like a Russian, the ruthless skewing of the corruption at the top of Moscow’s elite, rumoured to have been inspired by a private gig for Mr Putin’s inner circle. (Inevitably, it was a hit in Russia).
And as the teams finally appeared, the crowd woke up and the next 90 minutes were a Russian triumph.
When Russia put in its first goal in the 12th minute, Mr Putin shrugged and leaned in for a handshake with the crown prince. After a fifth goal seconds before full time, the politeness had turned to awkwardness.
Mr Putin shook the prince’s hand, but appeared not to know where to look. Then the prince appeared to make a quick exit.