Moroccan adventure evokes memories of Italia ‘90 for North Africans in Ireland

“Morocco is on the map!” declared Yousief Handi who, like most of the roomful of Moroccans in a Dublin hotel on Wednesday night, was smiling with admirable sportsmanship as his team crashed out of the World Cup, the first African nation to reach the final four.

“Watch out, next time we’re not going to lose, we’re coming in hard.” His youthful optimism was infectious, but how commonly was it shared? At the Talbot Hotel in Stillorgan, there was a palpable sense that a little bit of history had been made. Nobody saw it coming; they’re not sure it will happen again.

Morocco are the 2022 World Cup giant killers – Spain, Portugal, Belgium, each put to the sword. As Yousief put it, more people know about this North African nation now because of the exploits of eleven men on a pitch in the Middle East.

The Moroccan community in Dublin is about 1,000 strong. They gathered in the hotel to see just how far this unlikely story might run. Children danced around with red and green balloons while the adults watched any of the five big screens that showed their battling defeat to France. Chocolate buns topped with the five-pointed Moroccan star were handed out.

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At the front of the room, the life seemed to fall away from the beating drums and the chants of Ole, Ole, Ole as France progressed to the final.

“I don’t think this generation will repeat again. This achievement, this generation, is unique. The next World Cup is in four years, I don’t think we will have the same team,” said Baraa Kharchich, who was born in Spain to Moroccan parents. Still, he said, all of Moroccan television and YouTube would be focused on the people in the streets.

“When we came out to play football we lost,” reflected Moha Aamrane from Agadir. He stood glued to the screen with his wife Ann and their baby daughter Sara peering up from her buggy oblivious to the unfolding history.

Smiling, crestfallen, he pondered the tactical changes to a team that had previously defended so well.

“It’s a lot. We never dreamed that we would be in this position,” he says. “We are still proud of our team. This is football; there is win and lose.”

Anas Belmaati of the Moroccan Irish Association, which organised the event, spoke of how the team bonded with the Dublin-based community, extending from infants to older men in the green and red Moroccan jerseys.

“Oh my god, they bring everyone together, they make us believe. We were in a dream,” he said. “They put us in one room.”

Mustafa Ghazouani was smiling but defeated. He believed his team came to the French with a plan, conceded an early goal and never quite recovered.

Walking toward the exit he thought of something and spun around. “I remember it well when I came to Ireland: in 1990, Euro ‘88,” he said, invoking the same Irish underdog story so many have attached to these unlikely Moroccan upstarts. “[They came] from nowhere. From nowhere.”