Being a Manchester United fan recently has been chaotic; a devastating loss against Liverpool, the departure of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer as manager, and a strange turn of events during the game against Arsenal where Fred injured his keeper, assisted a goal and then won a penalty.

But during the Champions League game against Young Boys, we were reacquainted with an emotion that we had been missing. Hope.

With rumours of Zidane Iqbal being on the bench, this was a match that could make history – and it did. Called on at the 89th minute, midfielder Iqbal made his debut at Old Trafford and became the first ever British South Asian player to play for Manchester United. My eyes welled up as I watched a player of Pakistani and Iraqi heritage jog onto the pitch, gracefully donning the classic United jersey.

It has been almost thirty years since Jimmy Carter became the first British Asian player to play in the Premier League when he signed for Arsenal in 1992, and it would be a decade later that Michael Chopra would play for Newcastle United in the 2002/03 Champions League. Recent figures have shown that Asian men and boys had higher rates of participation in amateur football than their white counterparts – so why haven’t any of these players made it to the top?

"South Asian communities have been stereotyped as weaker, frail and less able to flourish in contact sports."

Throughout history race has been commonly used to try and explain this exclusion, with South Asian communities being stereotyped as weaker, frail and less able to flourish in contact sports. The former Leicester City manager, Dave Bassett once said: “The Asian build is not that of a footballer…it may well be Asian ingredients in food, or the nutrition they intake, [but it is] not ideal for building up a physical frame.”

When football’s decision makers, scouts and coaches have these preconceived stereotypes, they don’t look at Asian players in the same way, contributing to a vicious cycle where a lack of representation also leads to a lack of participation among younger British Asian players, and this is the pattern that has been continuing for decades.

This is precisely why Zidane Iqbal’s debut means so much for South Asians across the country. We’ve experienced the racially hostile norms that plague British society first-hand, so to see a young 18-year-old boy succeed in the face of adversity and break the glass ceiling raises aspiration for the youngest in our community who now see and believe that someday they too can play for a major English club.

Those that run the game have finally started to address the issue. Earlier this year, the Professional Footballers’ Association (PFA) launched its Asian Inclusion Mentoring Scheme (AIMS), an initiative focused on increasing the number of Asian players within professional football by creating a structured network between grassroot and professional players. Iqbal himself has been part of AIMS. When we see people who look like us in spaces that have previously excluded us, it creates the belief that ‘if they can do it then so can I.’

As a young child watching football, you can always relate to the footballers based on talent but seeing someone who looks like you creates a different kind of affiliation. You are able to relate to them on cultural and racial experiences, which makes following in their footsteps seem easier. This representation also challenges the attitudes of the coaches and scouts who gatekeep these institutions – and while they may believe they are making decisions based on merits, the statistics clearly do not match up to this, which calls for a re-examination of their attitudes. As the momentum towards a more diverse and inclusive society builds up, the message is quite clear: you either get in line or get left behind.

"You can always relate to the footballers based on talent but seeing someone who looks like you creates a different kind of affiliation."

The impact of visible diversity should not be underestimated, these moments influence a whole generation, but we also cannot sit and wait for decades for there to be another South Asian player to make their debut. It has been well documented that the amount of South Asian professionals is very low and interrogating these power structures is one way that will allow us to understand this. This is something that the PFA is doing well – creating connections from grassroots to professionals that never used to exist – and it is having a fruitful impact. It’s not enough to only have Asian scouts and coaches, change is something that needs to happen from the bottom up. Without the diversity of boardrooms, the change that needs to take place will become stagnant. If we are genuine about making this change, then we need to do it right and make sure it happens on all levels.

As children, we are taught that hope and hard work is the secret to success. However, as an adult I have learnt that there is a huge part of this equation that we are not told about. There are systematic racist and classist barriers that the marginalised communities face which makes Zidane Iqbal’s debut all the more special.

We do not all start from an equal playing field and we do not receive the same opportunities that are offered to our white male peers. We have all known for a long time that we have to work twice as hard to reach the same level, all whilst facing socio economic depravity. The mere fact that it has taken almost a decade since Hamza Choudhury for another British South Asian player to make his debut is a reminder to everyone that football is not meritocratic. It operates in a similar way to all other British institutions that continue from colonial legacies. Thus, it must be treated in the same way.

This is a pivotal moment in history for all South Asians to celebrate, one for the history books. And we should come away from it feeling empowered as it shows us that when we come together, we can change these structures.

This should serve as a reminder to young boys and girls that there is a place for them and more importantly, to us, that we should continue to lift as we climb.

@ItsUmeAymen