It was startling how quickly the dream died.

As Sepp Blatter removed the verdict from the envelope and told the world that Qatar had been chosen to host the 2022 FIFA World Cup, Australia's three-year, $45 million campaign to win the right to host the world's greatest sporting event vanished.

And with Australia attracting just the one vote in the opening round of voting it's hard not to feel that - in the eyes of the cabal of 22 FIFA delegates - its bid was seen as naive at best.

The incredulity about the World Cup being awarded to the tiny, oil rich Gulf State is well founded. Climate and infrastructure remain the glaring anomalies in the Qatari bid that was the bottom of the table of FIFA's own (obviously pointless) technical report.

Money, power politics and ego are three things upon which FIFA tabled no report, but they are likely to have been major factors in this opaque decision-making process that invests enormous power in the hands of far too few.

The FIFA executive committee is little more than a reconstituted medieval court, serviced by obsequious functionaries and mandarins, fawned over by governments and corporations and deferred to by good people who would never accept its values or practices in their own business or public lives.

Yet Presidents and Prime Ministers, movie stars, models and other assorted jetset flotsam genuflect before them like they were some divine ruling council with the keys to heaven itself. It's a parallel universe of corroded morality and greed, the sort of thing that many of them (Bill Clinton for instance) have spent their working lives trying to eliminate from the wider political landscape in places such as Africa and the Middle East.

And it has to end here as well.

The game that I (and if you're reading this) you love so dearly remains hostage to the bandits in blue blazers who use the miracle of football and its ability to speak one language to all people as a weapon to enrich few at the expense of the many.

And let's be honest about ourselves as well.

Whilst the day of recriminations will be on in earnest, we should not allow ourselves to be bitter. Middle Eastern football deserved to be recognized just as much as Australia did.

Qatar's presentation was visionary and futuristic and maybe we were all guilty of underestimating what they were capable of or just how bold they might be.

And having made a pact to deal with the devil on the devil's terms, isn't it a bit rich to complain about the decision once it is made and it doesn't favour you? Would we be howling in protest about corruption and treachery of we had been awarded the World Cup in this way?

I think not.

Our presentation was that of a nation sure of its place in the world as somewhere to enjoy life, but it was glaringly obvious that we were a country still unsure about what football meant to us. It was big on sunny beaches and smiles, but was almost entirely absent with the one ingredient that mattered most - football.

We've come a long way from the days when, as Johnny Warren said, the game was considered only fit for "Sheilas, Wogs and Poofters". Clearly, there's a long way to go still.

Those of us who burn with a passion for the game in the same way that the remarkable Frank Lowy does, need to continue to build on the legacy of football in this country. To celebrate its past, discuss its future, fight its corner and live it the way the rest of the world does.

Because when FIFA is finally called to account and the game is truly reclaimed by the people who cherish it, we want to be ready to take our place amongst those that have had the honour of hosting the World Cup finals.

And that work begins today.