The return of soccer's rainmakers Tim Cahill and his teammates celebrate a goal during the qualifier against Jordan. Photo: Scott Barbour A week, it is said, is a long time in politics. It's a similar story in sport. A team can be heroes one Saturday, zeroes the next. And vice versa. The Socceroos are a perfect case in point. Holger Osieck's team travelled to Tokyo for a crucial World Cup tie with Japan on June 4 down in the doldrums. On the pitch Australia was, unthinkably, struggling to qualify for Brazil in a group that, the Blue Samurai aside, did not look all that fearsome. Off the pitch, the Socceroos, so long the pin up boys of Australian sport, were losing their lustre. When he first took over running Football Federation Australia, then chief executive John O'Neill used a financial services term to emphasise how important the results and performances of the national team were. He used to call them the Rainmakers - an adjective used to refer to an influential employee or division in a company that generates most of the business for the operation. Given O'Neill's merchant banking background, it was both appropriate and accurate, because back then, in the early days of the A-League, the national team was the totemic team around which the whole sport coalesced. That used to be the case. But as their World Cup campaign this time around stalled, crowds and supporter interest seemed to decline. The atmosphere at internationals was poor - certainly in contrast to the fevered frenzy at so many West Sydney Wanderers and Melbourne Victory games - and FFA officials were genuinely worried not just about the team's prospects of qualifying for the World Cup, with the multimillion-dollar pay off that would generate, but about their appeal with the public. But the battling draw in Saitama, Japan, when the Socceroos displayed so many of the qualities so often associated with Australian sides, seemed to change perceptions almost overnight. Yes, Japan was a technically superior side and they had most of the possession - an inevitable consequence of Osieck's tactical set up, which saw the Socceroos defend deep and look to hit the Japanese on the break. But it worked perfectly. The Socceroos produced a real blood-and-guts performance, all hard work, application and desperation, and almost stole an unexpected win. The benefits were apparent seven days later at Etihad Stadium when some 43,000 fans turned up to cheer the team on as it looked to keep its World Cup dream alive. When the Docklands venue had been annnounced as the site for this game there was widespread despair in Melbourne: most pundits - this one included - believed the prospect of getting a decent crowd at Etihad against such an unattractive opposition as Jordan was non-existent. While the push to move the game to AAMI Park - a compact and "right-sized" stadium - was never going to bear fruit, the public reacted with unexpected enthusiasm, which in the end made Etihad a wholly appropriate venue. The draw in Japan had galvanised the nation's interest and rekindled support for a team that had come to seem a bit remote and, quite frankly, boring, given that the personnel never seemed to change. The Socceroos responded in kind with a thumping 4-0 win, a result that has of course stimulated even more interest in next Tuesday's critical fixture with Iraq, which will determine Australia's immediate fate. Win, lose or draw, the Socceroos' worst outcome would be a third-place finish and a play-off spot, but having pulled the qualification campaign out of the fire, that is the last thing Osieck's men, and the re-engaged Australian public, want. A win over Iraq will guarantee a World Cup place in Brazil - and almost certainly make the national team the Rainmakers again.