It only just dawned on me that I've never actually heard the Iraqi national anthem. I've never lived in Iraq and have never been there as an adult. I know the British anthem, the Italian anthem and the Dutch one. I am a Formula 1 fan and there's no escaping Max Verstappen.
But never the Iraqi one. Never like this. I've never watched pundits sit around a table discussing Aymen Hussein and Ali Jasim, talking about Iraqi tactics. What a buzz it is to feel like you belong.
People can deliberate about the many reasons why a 48-team World Cup diminishes the game, how it dilutes the beauty and artistry of top-level football.
But to see your flag there, held aloft as the national anthem rings around a stadium with fans singing and cheering, I think I'm firmly in the camp of pro-expansion and pro-inclusion. Heck, make it a 64-team tournament. Let every child of every nation feel pride in their identity.
The United States and Fifa have done a fine job of turning the universal game into a vehicle for capitalism. I've often found myself writing more about politics than actual tactics at this World Cup.
But the beauty of this game is that it reminds you why sport is so important for the soul and not just as a means of escapism. It really is a way to unite people. From the Iraqi diaspora turning up in their thousands to cheer on the Lions of Mesopotamia, to the Norwegians demonstrating the “Viking Row’ before embracing the fans of their opponents ahead of the march into the stadium. Sport heals what politicians break.
By the first hydration break, I was left genuinely proud of Iraq's gritty performance. They created chances, they were aggressive and they were in the fight. Ali Al Hamadi had a chance. Then, a few minutes after they drank their water, Erling Haaland scored. The left side of Norway with Antonio Nusa was proving difficult to contain, and only the gods themselves can ever stop the Manchester City striker from finishing.
But then Aymen Hussein levelled. What a beautiful move. This time it was Iraq threatening on the left. Al Hamadi worked tirelessly to progress the ball. Ali Jasim and his beautiful feet remained patient and found Amir Al Ammari, who made a great run to the byline before delivering a peach of a ball to Hussein to head in, perfectly.
Hussein. The man detained for seven hours by immigration. The player whose father, an officer in the Iraqi army, received repeated threats from Al Qaeda and refused to bow to them. In 2008, that courage cost him his life. Six years later, Hussein's brother was abducted by ISIS and has not been heard from since. What a life this man has lived. What a weight he carries. And yet, by the grace of God, there he was, heading a football into a net in Boston Stadium, celebrating on the biggest stage in the world.
My mother always used to say that life was unpredictable like 'kora', a ball. It endlessly rotates between the good and the bad, the magic and the darkness. It’s partly why I loved the game; you can’t predict anything.
14,618 days since their last World Cup goal in 1986, Iraq had scored their first of the 2026 edition. The stuff of dreams. Memes flooding social media. "Iraq, we were NOT familiar with your game." No. Neither was I.
And just like a kora, it rotated and the euphoria dissipated as only minutes later Haaland got his second . A back pass to goalkeeper, Jalal Hassan, who looked fearful, left a hungry Haaland with an opportunity to snatch and score. All that hard work, all that heart, undone by a silly error. 2-1 to Norway. I check in with myself, nope, still beaming.
Iraq created several chances in extra time of the first half. Al Hamadi was terrorising Norway. Ibrahim Bayesh and Hussein and Al Ammari continued to offer real threats. These players are physically imposing and utterly relentless. Al Hamadi nearly levels it, the ball trickles away. And then, is that a goal? No. It's a thunderous strike from Akam Hashim, 25 yards out, that I was absolutely certain had gone in. Everyone was. Nonetheless, the first half ended 2-1 but the fans were beaming with pride. Iraq did more to trouble Norway than Italy ever managed in qualifying.
In the words of Kelly Cates on the BBC's live coverage, "Iraq were the story of the first half". The pressing, the collective work, the manner in which Al Hamadi and Hussein dominated the centre-backs, causing all sorts of problems for the Norwegian defence, made for a genuinely excellent game of football.
Graham Arnold's fingerprints are visible all over this side. Psychology is such an underappreciated element of this sport. By reframing this so-called 'Group of Death' as a 'Group of Opportunity', Arnold has fundamentally changed this team's psyche. He has built a group that didn’t fear the occasion but appeared energised by it.
Speaking to Al Hamadi before the tournament, I expected him to be nervous, perhaps secretly anxious by the prospect of facing Haaland, Kylian Mbappe and Sadio Mane. Iraq may be a powerhouse in Asian football, but this is the World Cup and they had been drawn into the most unforgiving group. But he was totally unfazed, excited even. There was a marked difference in the vocabulary he chose to describe the experience. No fear, just total excitement.
Norway, however, ramped up the pressure in the second half. The decision to take off Al Hamadi left me perturbed and it upset Iraq's rhythm, and when Jasim suffered a bad fall and had to be replaced, the momentum shifted irreversibly.
By the 70th minute, Norway were firmly in control, and in the 76th minute a brilliant header from Leo Ostigard made it 3-1. After that, Iraq seemed to accept their fate. A stoppage-time own goal by Hussein made it 4-1. If you hadn’t watched the game you might believe Iraq were thrashed, but they weren’t.
Norway has invested heavily in grassroots football over the past decade. One of the finest generations in Norwegian football history has been the result, qualifying for their first World Cup since 1998.
Iraq can only dream of this kind of investment. Most of their players belong to families who fled the country in search of survival, seeking a better future for their children. And yet the children of Iraq and its wider diaspora impressed. They proudly displayed their love of country on a stage that hadn't seen them for 40 years.
All we can ask is that they continue to give everything they have and represent the spirit of a country that refuses to merely survive but to dream and to grow ever more resilient. And they have delivered. I couldn't be prouder.
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