India put up admirable fight despite Vietnam enjoying home-like support in Perth – Firstpost

By 6 pm in Perth the light is kind, but the heat still sticks. I’m outside Perth Rectangular Stadium with a tote bag that has exactly one job: get the Fem Blue banner into the ground. It’s the flag of an Indian women’s football supporters’ group carried across continents for this Asian Cup. A quiet reminder that Indian women’s sport has fans who travel, organise, care.

Instead, the security is polite but firm in informing me that no such banners would be permitted. I stand there in the evening sun trying to reason but they are unfazed. The fabric goes back in. I stride into the stadium, hoping the stands will be dotted with blue.

They aren’t. One familiar face appears, then another in an India jersey, then a few more. By the time the anthems are close, we’ve grown to about fifteen Indian supporters together, with a few lone blues scattered in other blocks.

Vietnam, on the other hand, have turned their section into a solid wall. The stand is painted red. If you dropped in without context, you’d assume this was a Vietnam home game, helped along by the banh mi food truck doing good business on the concourse.

Where’s the Indian support? 

On my left, an Australian woman, Maria, settles into her seat with three young girls – Kamaia, Kimi and Lily – with the Indian tri-colour on their cheeks. She tells me she was here for the tournament opener, for the Matildas, and that there was no way she was skipping another night of women’s football. “I want them to see that women can do anything men can…” she says, nodding towards the pitch, “…and honestly, I’m disappointed in the Indian community here. They’re huge in WA, bigger even than Vietnamese and Chinese, and they haven’t shown up.”

She’s not wrong; the census says there are far more India-born residents in Western Australia, but inside this stadium the ratio feels reversed. Say what you want about tactics and rankings – crowd energy always matters.

When India walk out, the first thing you notice is what’s missing. The blue shirts are sponsor-less. after a week of chatter about ill-fitting kits and late deliveries, the plain fronts are a reminder of how often this team has to fight battles that have nothing to do with football. It sits alongside an older ache – the 2022 Asian Cup that ended at home before it really began, the COVID outbreak, the forfeit.

Soon follows the anthem, goosebumps and the starting whistle.

Vietnam begin like a team used to this stage. Every half-clearance from India seems to find its way back to a red shirt. Around the fifteen-minute mark their end starts a rhythmic “Viet-nam, Viet-nam”, and we finally answer, a bit uneven, with “In-di-aa, In-di-aa”. The two chants bounce off each other, and for a while the football matches that sound – back and forth – like a jugalbandi.

The opener – Vietnam work it wide, the cross isn’t dealt with, and the finish is calm past Panthoi. Red erupts. And then everything stops. There’s no VAR relay in the stadium, just a screen telling us a check is in progress. Players stand with hands on hips; fans hold flags mid-air. When the goal is finally confirmed, Vietnam gets to celebrate twice. We curse the screen for giving them two roars and us none.

Half-time arrives at 1–0. I go hunting for consolation and return with an India bucket hat that is, objectively, overpriced and yet, emotionally, non-negotiable. If you’ve come this far, you buy the hat.

The Blue Tigresses fight back

Three minutes into the second half, Vietnam score again. Or at least they think they do. Another VAR check – suspense. We’re midway through complaining that the system clearly exists only to give Vietnam extra opportunities to celebrate when the decision comes through: offside, goal disallowed. This time we happily withdraw our curses.

Before we’re done laughing about it, India score! Sanfida Nongrum, only recently on the pitch, times her run, takes a touch and lifts the ball over the keeper. For a moment there’s silence – just that heartbeat where everyone checks the assistant referee’s flag – and then the noise hits. The stadium, which has neat country-themed songs cued up for other teams’ goals, responds with a generic jingle for India. We celebrated regardless.

At 1–1, the match turns into something tight and nervy. Vietnam keep the ball better; India run on a mix of structure and sheer will, throwing themselves into tackles, chasing lost causes. In the Vietnam stand, one chant rings out more than the others: “Vietnam vo dich!”. Later, a Perth-based fan Vu To tells me this translates to ‘Vietnam, Champions!’.

“Football is one of Vietnam’s main sports,” he says. “We don’t have many others. We don’t get much exposure outside Southeast Asia, so we are here to show support for the team at this big stage.”

In stoppage time, that commitment gets its reward. Vietnam build one last move down the left. The cross hangs in that horrible space between defender and goalkeeper. The shot isn’t spectacular; it’s just accurate. The net ripples, and this time there is no check, no pause, no second roar needed.
Vietnam 2–1 India. Our little group sags into our seats. Full-time whistle blows.

A good game indeed

India’s players drop too, but only for a moment. They pull themselves up, form a quick huddle on the pitch and then walk towards us. We stand. They clap. Someone behind me shouts “Vande!” and the players answer “Mataram!” Once, twice, three times. The mutual respect finds itself a memorable moment in Perth.

Later, I walk back to the hostel through quiet Perth streets, Fem Blue banner still folded in my bag. A fellow hostel-mate passes me at the door, clocking the fading tricolour on my cheeks. “Good game today,” he says.

It was good, in its own way. For a team that has made it here on merit, sheer determination and despite the system, it is incredible. But, we strive for more – Japan, you’re up.