DOUALA — There is something deeply special about the cheer for a second goal being louder than the celebrations of the first. It conveys both the magnitude of the occasion and the angst of the crowd. The first goal is magic, of course, a reason for great joy. But all you have really done is settle the nerves. One goal is never enough. One goal can feel like nothing; two feels like everything.
In Douala’s Japoma Stadium, the noise that met Karl Toko Ekambi’s second goal in seven minutes was overwhelming. It helped that the crowd were already on their feet after celebrating his first, dancing and waving and somehow blowing their vuvuzelas with more gusto than before. It helped too that it was a fine, flowing move that offered hints of its own conclusion.
But more than that, it reflected the recognition of supreme confidence. Cameroon’s supporters are desperate for their team to win this trophy on home soil. When Ekambi’s shot hit Baboucarr Gaye’s net, 40,000 people simultaneously realised that two games separates them from it.
The grim memories of last Monday’s stadium tragedy still hangs heavy over Cameroon. How could it not? Eight people went to a football match and never returned home and 38 more would only do so via Douala’s hospitals. We have heard stories of those who attended a live game for the first time – attendances are low for the country’s national leagues – and are scared to ever return. To repeat: Cameroon’s progress through this tournament means a great deal to a great many. Some things will forever matter more.
On the eve of the, Cameroon’s sports minister Narcisse Mouelle Kombi teased the information in a forthcoming official report by laying the blame solely at ticketless fans who arrived late to the match and caused the crush, words that have serious historic connotations for an English audience.
Kombi also listed – at great length – 15 different measures being taken to avoid a repeat. If there is room for so many improvements, it rather suggests that there were other, more aggravating factors than supporter behaviour.
Several of those measures were implemented at the Japoma on Saturday, some more obviously than others. There was a huge police and military presence around the ground, far greater than at any other in the tournament. On the roofs of local buildings, officers stood with rifles ready. Each had a small paper Cameroon flag attached to their left shoulder as a nod to patriotic friendliness.
Until now, Covid-19 has been a two-minute affair. Here every supporter and member of the media was forced to sign up to a local app that captured their personal data before they took their test (the result of which was provided on paper and barely checked). Supporters in the queue believed this to simply be a process by which the names of those inside the stadium could be recorded.
Saturday afternoon did at least bring temporary distraction; you suspect that Cameroon’s football federation (Fecafoot) and CAF were glad of it. Empty seats were indeed widely visible, proof that something at least has changed. The stadium remained supercharged with noise throughout, bar a few pre-match moments of pause to reflect on Monday’s victims. Occasionally, silence can seem louder than cacophony.
Cameroon more than merited their victory. Gambia have been proudly defensive – and their defence has done them proud – in their debut Afcon. Manager Tom Saintfiet did not directly refer to his Dyche-ian principles, but the general defensive strategy is the same: Stay narrow, defend deep, welcome crosses into the box and back yourselves to clear or block them.
Against Guinea and Tunisia, it worked perfectly; they defended stoutly and made the most of the chances they were skilful or fortunate enough to create. That plan was successful because doing one good thing well is better than doing lots of things averagely, but also due to the conditions. The way to beat a deep defence is to move the ball quickly and stretch the play. That’s easier said than done on bouncy pitches in 90 per cent humidity and 30-degree temperatures.
Luck eventually ran out, as it is wont to do. Perhaps concentration did too. Saintfiet will be delighted that it took until the second half of their fifth match for Gambia to concede from open play in this competition. He will be less content that it came from a cross from wide and a header from a standing jump. From that point on, everyone in red looked a little forlorn and dog-eared. It is virtually impossible to shift through the gears in this heat.
That is the final reason why that second cheer was so loud; they knew they had broken Gambia’s spirit. This country will remain at fever pitch for a few more days yet. Vincent Aboubakar will be replaced by Ekambi as the country’s cultural king for a few days and will surely not mind the break. A prize that was considered improbable a month ago is now so close that Cameroon can smell its sweetness.
from Football – inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/6vUybEXNA
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