Just for a moment, Graham Arnold can take a breather. There is relief all around now that the Socceroos have qualified for the FIFA World Cup.
He held his head in his hands during the penalty shootout against Peru; unable to bring himself to watch, he relied instead on the reaction of the players and staff around him to know whether Australia was going through or whether his job finished there and then, on the sidelines of Khalifa International Stadium.
But if you thought the road to qualification was dramatic, that's not the half of it.
Off the pitch, Arnold has had to be many things, from psychologist to politician, navigating COVID-19 challenges, player crises, and more, with the tenacity of a world-class boxer mixed with the strategic mindset of a chess grand master.
Now, 1,008 gruelling days after this qualification period began, he has a brief moment to sit and reflect on the journey so far.
What comes to mind, at first, is something Justin Langer once said.
"I read this great article Justin Langer wrote when he was Australian cricket coach, talking about how lonely coaching the national team is, and it resonated very much with me," Arnold told The Ticket.
The Socceroos coach is quick to point out he has "great staff" around him which, "especially during COVID, was very special".
But despite their unflinching support, not a single one of them can know the extent of the constant stomach churn and inner debate a head coach must wrestle with incessantly.
Building a team culture that unites a group of journeymen in order to achieve something greater than their individual talents is a 24/seven mission.
All the while, the loneliness of a head coach knows the media will be quick to doubt you, seizing on any perceived weakness.
Their words impact those closest to you like poisonous darts finding their target, sometimes sowing the seeds of discontent in the minds of some of those watching on from head office.
A head coach accepts the position with the sword of Damocles hovering overhead.
"That's something that's never bothered me because you can only focus on what we can do, and I'm just here to help the players," he said.
"Coaching has changed so much over time… the generation of people and the players.
"Just being there to support the players, more than being a 'dictating' coach, which I probably was when I was younger.
"These boys, they've been through a lot over the last year and a half with COVID, not being able to get back to Australia.
"Some of these boys had long COVID and missed a couple of camps, and then we lost players due to COVID. I missed two camps with COVID as well, and so it's been tough. But when you stick at it [and] really make those sacrifices, then everything is possible and achievable."
While COVID has been the great disruptor to many people's lives over the past two years, one gets the sense it has become a blanket of sorts, masking many other personal crises that players have gone through and which Arnold has had to deal with.
What the world sees when the team plays a game is like the serving of a meal: those who consume it are oblivious to what happened during its lengthy preparation.
"What you get on the field is what you actually do off the field," Arnold said.
"At the end of the day, the game is only 90 minutes, but if the players don't go out on the pitch and be prepared to give everything they've got for each other, then you're never going to be successful.
"One of the most important things in coaching is making sure you get that right."
The making of a manager
Arnold's journey to this year's World Cup has been 40 years or more in the making.
As a kid, he played rugby league at school and soccer on weekends. He was coached throughout his junior years by his dad in an era when well-being meant nothing and toughening up was all that mattered.
For more than a decade, Arnold was a Socceroos striker in a national team that came agonisingly close to breaking the team's decades-long World Cup drought, but it wasn't to be.
Destiny sometimes arrives through a different door than the one we walk through.
"It has been a long journey," Arnold said.
"But I just have the passion for Australian football. I just want to help kids and help the players fulfil their dreams, because I feel very blessed and privileged that I've had the life that I've had in Australian football. If everyone could have a life like I've had, I'd be very happy."
So, what's it going to take for the Socceroos to win a World Cup?
"People talk about the golden generation and all those players, and they're all in the Premier League and all that… and that's all around the development system.
"We have to get the game right at junior level because there's so many different things that are happening that shouldn't be happening for the kids."
Expense being one of them. The cost of tapping into development football has shut out large sections of the Australian community.
"One hundred per cent. Most people that are successful in life are the ones that have been brought up the hard way, and they can't afford to play the game."
Does that description fit with Arnold's own childhood experiences?
"Yes," he says. "I lived in my grandmother's garage for 24 years. That's where I grew up.
"My mum and dad had no money. My dad was a cab driver. My mum died when I was 18 or 19.
"When you get bought up the hard way, that's when you appreciate things more in life."
The greatest players of all time have emerged from the struggles Arnold describes:
- Pele, from a slum in Brazil's southern city of Santos
- Maradona, a poor kid from a shanty town on the outskirts of Buenos Aires
- Zinedine Zidane, settled in the tough working-class area of Marseille after leaving Algeria
- Cristiano Ronaldo, who lived in a single room with his three siblings on the Portuguese island of Madeira
- Lionel Messi, born and raised in central Argentina.
Those who develop their skills in bare feet or on dirt roads are those who know they must fight to survive. Nothing is handed to them. It is no surprise they also have a love affair with the game: they play with a different kind of passion.
There are plenty of Australians who love the international game but are priced out of the pathway system that leads to the national team.
Arnold can't fix that. Football Australia can. The Moriarty Football Foundation is one that is knocking on the door with a huge, mostly untapped cohort of young First Nations players that are talented but raw; hungry for the same opportunities others are handed.
Arnold's mission now is to work on a few more surprise moves, like this week's goalkeeper substitution, replacing Socceroos captain Mat Ryan with Andrew Redmayne, leaving Peruvian penalty takers perplexed.
That psychological ploy was likely the difference in getting Australia to the World Cup while Peru has to wait four more years.
"I need a break for a bit," Arnold says.
"I've been away for seven weeks already now and managing fifty-odd people every day, it gets quite fatiguing.
"But the most important thing is they are happy and the staff and the players have an integrated mindset.
"They've got to go back to their clubs and work hard and perform well because to play for your nation we need the elite.
"I'll be watching them… sitting back and enjoying watching them play."
Arnold is reminded there are only 23 Wednesdays until Australia plays France in its opening match in Qatar.
"Is that right? I haven't even thought about it," he laughs.
The time for reflection is over. It's back to the drawing board for Graham Arnold, only the third Australian in history charged with guiding the Socceroos through a World Cup campaign.
