As I sit here reflecting on the evolution of Chinese football, I can't help but draw parallels to that fascinating Rain or Shine game where they nearly squandered a 13-point lead. It reminds me so much of China's own football journey - moments of brilliant promise followed by frustrating setbacks. I've been following Chinese football for over two decades now, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that our relationship with this beautiful game has been anything but straightforward.

The early days of modern Chinese football, particularly in the 1990s when professional leagues began taking shape, felt like watching a team build that 13-point lead. I remember the excitement in 1994 when the Chinese Jia-A League launched - it was revolutionary. Stadiums filled with passionate supporters, foreign players bringing new techniques, and this palpable sense that China was finally embracing football culture. The numbers seemed promising too - attendance figures reached peaks of nearly 25,000 per match in those early years, though if I'm being honest, the actual numbers might have been slightly inflated. Still, the energy was real. What fascinates me most about this period was how quickly football captured the public imagination. I recall attending matches where the atmosphere felt electric, completely different from the sterile environments of earlier state-organized sports events.

Then came what I call the "third period collapse" phase, much like Rain or Shine nearly losing their substantial lead. The early 2000s brought match-fixing scandals that devastated the league's credibility. I witnessed this decline firsthand - stadiums that were once packed suddenly felt empty, public trust evaporated, and talented players like those TNT teammates seemed more focused on internal conflicts than the game itself. There was this particularly disappointing season around 2009-2010 where average attendance dropped to about 15,000, though the official numbers claimed 18,500. The quality of play suffered tremendously during these years, and I'll admit I nearly stopped following the domestic league altogether. What struck me during this difficult period was how the national team mirrored these struggles - moments of brilliance followed by inexplicable collapses, much like that Hollis-Jefferson-led rally that nearly overturned the game.

The recent renaissance in Chinese football feels different though, more sustainable. When President Xi Jinping expressed his ambition for China to become a football powerhouse, it triggered massive investments that transformed the landscape. I've visited training facilities that rival Europe's best, seen youth development programs that actually make sense, and witnessed the Chinese Super League become a legitimate destination for world-class talent. The financial numbers are staggering - clubs were spending approximately $450 million annually on foreign transfers at the peak, though I suspect the real figures might have been even higher. What excites me most is the growing sophistication among Chinese fans. They're no longer just impressed by big names; they understand tactics, they appreciate development, and they're demanding better from their clubs and national team.

The grassroots development has been particularly encouraging to watch. I've coached youth teams in Beijing for five years now, and the improvement in technical ability among young players is noticeable. Where we used to focus primarily on physical attributes, there's now genuine emphasis on technical development and tactical understanding. The number of registered youth players has grown from about 50,000 in 2010 to nearly 200,000 today, though I should note these figures vary significantly depending on the source. Still, the direction is clear - we're building a proper football culture from the ground up.

Looking at the current state of Chinese football, I'm cautiously optimistic in a way I haven't been before. The national team's performance remains inconsistent, true, but the foundation feels stronger. The league has weathered financial storms that would have destroyed it in previous eras, and there's growing recognition that sustainable development beats quick fixes. If I have one strong opinion about where we need to improve, it's in developing our own coaching talent. We've imported fantastic foreign coaches, but until we develop our own world-class tactical minds, we'll always be playing catch-up.

The journey of Chinese football continues to be unpredictable, much like that Rain or Shine game where victory wasn't secured until the final moments. There will be more leads built and possibly squandered, more internal spats like that Erram and Khobuntin situation, but also more moments of brilliance that remind us why we love this game. What gives me hope is that we're finally building something lasting - not just flashy signings or empty stadiums, but genuine football culture. The final whistle hasn't blown on China's football story, and honestly, I believe the most exciting chapters are yet to be written.