Why didn't the big dream of two 'little Albanias' catch fire?

Alfred Lela

Albania and Kosovo failed to fulfill their dream of qualifying for the World Cup finals in America this summer — an achievement that would have been historic for both, their first appearance on football’s biggest stage.

Kosovo, despite being younger both as a state and as a federation, went a step further by reaching the second round of the playoff path, where it was defeated in Pristina by Turkey, a regular participant in World Cups.

Albania, on the other hand, lost in the first match to Poland.

If, as far as the World Cup is concerned, everything is over, in many other senses, for both teams, everything has just begun. For Albania, there have already been two European Championship appearances, with respectable performances, and a continued knocking on the door of World Cup qualification. Kosovo, for its part, has so far reached the second round of the playoff stage — its highest achievement to date — and this appears to be only the beginning of its journey.

Optimists hold on to this “promise” of the future for both teams, while pessimists list the failures, particularly in Albania’s case.

What is often avoided in these assessments, however, is a fundamental fact — one that is not, in itself, a problem of the national team: the absence of a system whose components are connected and functioning.

Albania draws its pool of talent from outside the country, and in this sense, it is like hoping to win the lottery — relying on the first (and later the second) generation of Albanian emigrants to continue investing in football as a profession for their children, while also maintaining a connection to Albania.

When that connection fades — and it will — what is the strategy to supply the national team with talent?

In this sense, Albania’s national team is, to a degree, “foreign.” Including the coach, it becomes a team shaped by different football schools and mentalities. The red-and-black national side is, at this point, more a national team of the Albanian diaspora than of Albania itself — more of those who have left than of those who have stayed.

This also highlights another problem: the growing disconnect between two parts of the nation. Those who have left have found more opportunities and better conditions to develop their talent in their host countries, creating an Albania of two speeds.

This, more than anything, speaks to the political governance of the country — one that seems able to build only with the hands of others.

Kosovo is a different story, for entirely different reasons that do not belong within the scope of this article. But one thing is certain: the great dream of these two small countries can only become reality if all three national components come together — Albania, Kosovo, and the diaspora — at least in terms of symbolic strength and numbers.

Until that happens, supporters on both sides of the border, along with those scattered across the world, will continue to swing between optimism and pessimism.

But football is not a battle of emotions alone. It is not just the eagle gesture with the hands, online nationalism, borrowed pride, or the marketing of the national team.

The proof is simple: football is work that takes time.
And a strategy that must begin.