If not for football, the world could feel disjointed. Patches of land that ought never to intersect. Like Norway and Iraq.

Blessed with political stability and economic prosperity, Norway is the seventh-happiest nation in the world, ranks second on the Human Development Index, and seventh on GDP per capita. Iraq, shaped by decades of war, sanctions and militant insurgencies, sits at 101, 126 and 116, respectively.

Which crest a footballer wears is the consequence of a geographical lottery. What is not, however, is how they perform once the whistle blows. Per the official scoreline, Norway made light work of Iraq in a 4-1 win at the Boston Stadium. Beyond the scoreline, though, the night belonged as much to Aymen Hussein as it did to Erling Braut Haaland.

The sport owes nothing to anyone. A trailblazer like Johan Cruyff never won the World Cup. Neither did Ferenc Puskás or Paolo Maldini. George Best never played in one. The tournament would have survived without Haaland. But it would not have been as enthralling.

Being the highest goal-scorer for Norway at the 2022 qualifiers proved inadequate to earn his team their first World Cup qualification since the turn of the millennium. Having scored 18 goals in his first 13 Premier League games for Manchester City, Haaland could have added to the goal tally in Qatar, had he been there. He was not. Public relations’ nightmare, and not one to mince his words, Haaland had acknowledged, unabashedly: “To watch other people score & win games in the World Cup, it triggers, motivates & irritates me.”

The trigger, motivation and irritation saw him score 16 of Norway’s 37 goals at the 2026 qualifiers. Four seasons into his Premier League career, he already sits among the competition’s 25 highest scorers. If he maintains this pace, the summit is merely a matter of time.

And yet, the jury is still out on what is Haaland’s greatest quality. Not the flair like Lionel Messi, certainly, and neither the vigour of a prime Cristiano Ronaldo. On Tuesday, the Nordic cyborg put it on display — his tenacity.

The first goal against Iraq was a tap-in. The second was presented to him in gift wrapping. Neither of the two goals required nimble flamboyance or immaculate precision. It required something more mundane — persistence — to find a pocket of space between Akam Hashim and Amir Al-Ammari for the opener, and to force goalkeeper Jalal Hasan into committing a mistake for the second. He has already achieved what accomplished Norwegians like Tore Andre Flo and Ole Gunnar Solskjær could not — becoming Gresshingstene’s leading goal-scorer. With his brace against Iraq, he became only the second Norwegian to score multiple goals at the World Cup.

When four of the five goals are scored by the victor, the loser could be reduced to an afterthought. Here, though, they should not. Aymen Hussein is fortunate to be at the World Cup. Not because he scored the winning goal against Bolivia to earn Iraq their first qualification since 1986, nor for successfully navigating through the US customs, albeit after being interrogated for seven hours at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport.

He is fortunate to simply be here. Raised in the volatile district of Hawija, in a post-Saddam Hussein era, the striker has seen devastation of the worst kind. It did not spare him either. His father, serving in the Iraqi army, was killed by Al-Qaeda in 2008. Six years later, his brother was kidnapped by ISIS. While his mother sought refuge in extended family, Hussein had to relocate to Baghdad, where his only refuge was football.

And even football, during his initial days, presented a war of attrition. With his numbers being underwhelming till 2013 — averaging a goal in four games then — fans demanded his exclusion from the squad. Since then, he has averaged two goals per three games. When Al-Ammari floated in a cross from the left wing, borne more out of hope than anything, Hussein had three red shirts marking him. Yet, he jumped the highest. He had to — it was not the first time he had taken flight.

At Boston Stadium, the two brightest performers arrived there by vastly different roads. One was raised in a tranquil, serene Norwegian town. Other, in rubble. And yet, their stories seamlessly converged into one in Boston. Three goals between two scorers. Different worlds. Different lives. One theme — football, above all.