A deficit of talent, history and World Cup success as wide as Sydney Harbour; a GOAT and a Roo; and it all washed up as a 2-1 loss and a lump in the throat as big as Uluru.
The Socceroos's World Cup is over after falling in valiant defeat to Argentina in the round of 16.
Here's how the internet reacted.
In the three days between Australia beating Denmark and their knockout clash with Argentina, there was a mobilisation of enthusiasm around the country the likes of which we've never seen.
Viewing sites in the major cities were hastily organised and opened, for the great green and gold wave to wash into at 5am on a Sunday morning.
In Sydney:
In Brisbane:
In Adelaide:
And two in Melbourne, with Federation Square heaving, and upwards of 20,000 people overflowing into Melbourne Rectangular Stadium.
And in the stadium in Qatar, the Australian contingent was dwarfed by the Argentinian horde, a sea of blue and white flecked with green and gold.
The Socceroos were now playing with house money — and by all accounts, the hosts of this World Cup have quite a lot — having massively over-achieved by having made it to the knockout rounds.
Meanwhile, this may be Lionel Messi's last chance at winning a World Cup with Argentina; yes, the Socceroos were hanging out in the periphery, but the eyes of the world were on us nonetheless.
And, as is often the case in the cut-throat stage of the World Cup, the game began cagily, no early fireworks, no flurry of punches or grand charge to start.
Argentina took control of the ball, and began to prod at the Aussie defensive block, which was firmly dug in.
There was no dedicated man-marker for Messi, but the Socceroos' ill-intentions toward the superstar were made clear early on, when Keanu Baccus, making his first start in the tournament, clattered into Paris Saint Germain attacker.
In an opening 20 minutes that, somehow, passed without major angina-inducing incident for Australian fans, the Socceroos faithful was given the opportunity to soak in the moment, and marvel at the very idea that this team, with this manager, was actually here, doing this.
But then, as he has done with otherworldly consistency for his entire career, Lionel Messi Lionel Messi'd.
A Messi free kick on the right was partially cleared by the Socceroos, but possession was recycled back toward that footballing alien, and one rat-a-tat exchange of passes suddenly had him shaping to shoot with his left foot, from the right side of the box.
When Messi crafts a situation like this for himself, for the other team it feels like that moment when you lean back on a chair and pass that horrible tipping point; there's now nothing you can do, no matter how wildly you flail and gurn, with only that inevitable pain to follow.
For Messi, scoring goals like this is as natural as breathing.
And so, 1-0 to Argentina at half time, the Aussie fans were forced to reckon with their wildly oscillating expectations; just a goal down? Not bad right? But we'd hardly conceded a chance, outside of Messi's? Then again, we're happy to just be here! Do I smell burning toast?
And crucially, we had the expected goals stat on our side, which in case you aren't aware, is a totally useless stat if it doesn't favour your team, but is one of the most insightful metrics available if it does.
The second half began, and whispers of the substitute on everyone's lips, Garang Kuol, were heard.
More talk of attacking substitutions, and was that Argentina making a defensive sub of their own? "They're scared, they're shutting up shop!" we said, our chests puffing out.
And then a bayonet was plunged into those chests by one of our own; Mat Ryan, who has largely been faultless during this campaign, made a horrific error, a heavy touch of the ball led to him attempting to take on opposing attackers in his own area, before giving it away for a second Argentinian goal.
The attacking subs, including Kuol — who became the youngest player to appear in the World Cup knockout game since Pele — came on, but the hope had gone, wheezing out of that chest wound we were nursing.
Argentina was now buoyed by the comfort of the scoreline cushion, and Messi duly ran through the entire Socceroos midfield in that freakish way of his, ghosting past players, levering his body around them while never losing absolute control over the ball, velcro-footed, human mercury, and a total nightmare.
Amid thoughts this could blow out embarrassingly, something amazing happened.
Aziz Behich scampered up the right flank, and crossed, with the ball bouncing out to substitute Craig Goodwin, who spanked a first-time shot right onto the hand of an Argentinian defender, which deflected it right into the bottom corner.
A bolt of lightning, a stroke of luck, and a way back into the match.
Our first ever goal in the knockout stages of a World Cup — albeit likely to be awarded on the scoresheet to that wonderful, multi-nationality striker Mr Ow'n Goal — and we weren't dead at all, but thrillingly alive in the contest.
Behich, who must have moments earlier sucked the spirit out of Messi like a Dementor, ran past the entire opposition defence, and almost scored the goal of his and all of our lives.
We were taking it to the two-time winners, bruised and cut but not yet knocked out, and the heart leapt as the Socceroos sent big Harry Souttar up front to play as an auxiliary striker in the final minutes.
The seconds ticked away, we dodged bullets at the other end, but that risk was heeded for the reward we needed.
In the last minute of added time, Kuol had a chance to equalise, but couldn't take it.
And that was all.
A juggernaut had won, a minnow had lost, but the Socceroos hadn't slunk out with some meek whimper, stripped of their dignity, no, they'd fought against the impossible and nearly won.
And the nation reached out from our corner of the globe and hugged them.
"We gave it everything, just like we have every minute of this competition," said Jackson Irvine after the match, voice cracking with emotion and tears in his eyes.
"I hope we made everyone proud."
They had.
