Only one thing matters: Ireland v Denmark (November 18th 2019)

Ahead of tomorrows night final Group D qualifier, the preceding campaign and game itself can be paraphrased into certain quotes, phrases and equations.
18^th November 2019 < 18^th November 2009
Would it be particularly hard for tomorrow night to be as bad or worse than what happened ten years ago in Paris? In the build-up to our final Group game against Denmark, the column inches and social media channels this weekend have been dominated with our reflections on that fateful night. It wasn’t just a seminal moment in Irish soccer history, the actions of Thierry Henry consumed the country in the days, weeks and months afterwards.

Where was I? Letterkenny. I was a 2^nd year college student at the time who harboured dreams of going to the World Cup in South Africa. In the midst of a severe recession and no means to actually fund a trip of such magnitude, my 19-year-old was living in an fantasy world with such dreams. There was nothing wrong with dreaming, or believing in ourselves. And in November 2009, I firmly held the belief that Ireland were going to qualify for that World Cup. Nothing, from the playoff draw being seeded, from the criticism of Giovanni Trapattoni’s tactics or a first leg defeat at home to the French could sway me. There was no alcohol underpinning this faith either. For some reason I can’t explain, I felt that the Irish team that night were going to do something special, something that match the exploits of our previous World Cup teams. And in the first 90 minutes, they did. A magical performance that demonstrated the best of our abilities saw us take the French to extra time by virtue of Robbie Keanes first half goal. Everything I believed that would transpire before the game was coming to fruition. Heck! we had great chances to win it out right before extra time. We would rue those chances. We would rue them for some time in the aftermath of one of the great injustices in sport.

You and I have unfinished business. – The Bride (Kill Bill vol.2)
Not that we could ever forget what happened that night, fresher in the minds of Irish fans is November two years ago. November 14^th 2017 was a night I felt we would qualify for out first World Cup in 16 years. While we weren’t robbed of qualification, I nearly felt as bad in the aftermath in 2009. While I didn’t have the same surging confidence within me this time around, I felt we had a great chance all the same. After all, the familiar surroundings of the Aviva Stadium with 48’000 Irish fans at the top of their voice could be the perfect catalyst for the greatest night of our lives. Yet, despite a perfect start, our hopes and dreams unravelled before our eyes on a night where a tactical blunder was punished emphatically. Ireland’s wait for a World Cup return would have to wait another four years. The manner of defeat stuck with me for a long time afterwards. I’d built myself up to a point of emotional edge that left me crushed midway through the second half. It hasn’t helped one bit that Denmark have displayed an incredibly arrogant dismissive attitude towards us based on this result. Players, Managers and supporters alike have been dismissive of Irish football as nothing more as ancient and archaic. It didn’t help Martin O’Neill took off both of our central midfielders or put enough faith in his players to show more courage in possession that night but Denmark themselves are no world beaters themselves. We would meet again in the Nations League 12 months later, where we would play out two 0-0 draws. I watched both games from home. My life changed dramatically in the months after that 5-1 defeat. The following February, I got engaged. The following September, I became a father. The following November, after an awful scoreless draw in Aarhus, Martin O’Neill was sacked. Everything was looking up for my future. And then the best Irish manager in my living memory (circa 1996 onwards) was coming back to lead us into the next campaign.

In the years that followed Saipan, the negative opinion of Mick McCarthy slowly began to fade. A poor start to the Euro 2004 qualifying campaign was all the public and the FAI needed to convince McCarthy that it was time to move on. Looking back, it was a ludicrous decision. McCarthy had spent the last 6 and a half years putting together one of the most exciting Irish teams ever. You only have to look back on the qualifying campaign that got us to South Korea and Japan. It shouldn’t be argued that Roy Keane was phenomenal in that campaign because he absolutely was. However, this was not a one-man team. The 2^nd leg in Iran and subsequent World Cup, where after all the fallout and intense media scrutiny that followed the squad and management, we performed admirably throughout. We were desperately unlucky to go out on penalties to Spain in the last 16. Many felt at the time (and maybe still feel now) that if we avoided all the hassle with Saipan, we could have went much further with Roy involved. That debate will rage on forever but we’ll never know. What cannot be debated is that McCarthy was a fantastic manager for Ireland. Many hoped he would be again.

There was an interesting development in his appointment however. There are a number of parallels to the scenario that preceded McCarthy’s first appointment. In 1996, Jack Charlton's glorious era has come to an end after the previous campaign to qualify for the Euro 96 fell apart spectacularly. The squad is aging, the football they're playing is woeful and the team is in dire need of fresh faces. 7 of the players McCarthy gave their first cap (Shay Given, Ian Harte, Gary Breen, Kenny Cunningham, Kevin Kilbane, David Connolly, Lee Carsley) would be part of the 2002 World Cup squad. A further 10 players who earn their first caps over the next two campaigns would be in that same squad. While the Senior team has struggled since 2016, our underage squads have been getting results and praise not seen since the glory days of Brian Kerr’s tutelage. We reached the quarter finals of the U-17 European Championships two years running, with the 2018 edition seeing us knocked out on penalties to eventual champions Netherlands (in another robbery for Irish football).

A number of young players have been making huge strides across the water with Premier League clubs. Despite the best efforts of Martin O’Neill or the naysayers to say otherwise, there is talent coming through in Irish football. And our next managerial appointment would be crucial to this development. The golden generation of the late 90’s coincided with Micks first spell in charge and I felt he was best placed to bring on the new generation and build a team for the future. John Delaney felt differently. Mick’s pragmatism and ability to get results appealed to Delaney, with two home games in Euro 2020 guaranteed if we qualified. At the same time, the marvellous job Stephen Kenny had done with Dundalk in the last 6 years couldn’t be ignored. It was decided that McCarthy would take the Senior job for one campaign while Kenny would become the U-21 manager job before taking over from McCarthy. It was a unique arrangement, one that left many bemused when it was announced. However, it is probably the one decision by Delaney I won’t criticize. Throughout his career, there can be no doubt that McCarthy, despite whatever resources are available to him, got the best out of the teams he was managing. And Kenny gets two years to work with the next generation before bringing them onto the next level.

'Everyone seems a bit happier' – Mick McCarthy, March 2019
Off the field, everyone is happier now that John Delaney has finally left Irish football. On the field, what we have potentially lost by going for this approach is giving McCarthy a free shot to experiment on the same scale he did 20 years ago. Ultimately, he was and is, a pragmatic manager who gets the results by any means necessary. And while that has put us in a place to qualify, it has not been pretty on the eye (unintentional rhyming!). We have scored the grand total of 6 goals in 7 qualifying games. That includes two games against Gibraltar which we won on an aggregate score on 3-0. We did play well against Georgia in our first home qualifier but we’ve regressed since that display. In saying that however, we topped the group going into the away double header in October. And while we would only take one point from 6 away to Georgia and Switzerland, draws against Denmark and at home to the Swiss have typified our never say die resilience that resonates with teams managed by Mick McCarthy. When the Senior team’s performances have been compared with the displays from our Under 21 team, many have been quick to criticise McCarthy for being as pragmatic as he has been. However, if we score from our only shot on target and have less than 20% possession tomorrow night, who will care. McCarthy himself has said, in reference to his pragmatism, “if you win like that, nobody’s bothered”.  

Shane Duffy will captain Ireland tomorrow night in the absence of the suspended Seamus Coleman. It was an easy decision according to McCarthy. Duffy has been an ever present in the starting eleven for some time now and with two goals against Denmark already, hopes are high he can get a 3^rd in this fixture. Colemans suspension allows Matt Doherty, whose performances in the Premier League across the last 12 months have been superb, a rare opportunity to start at right back. John Egan has also impressed in the Premier League playing at the heart of Sheffield United’s defence and will partner Duffy. Enda Stevens has been an ever present when available and will start on the left. Darren Randolph has been confirmed fit to play, having been an injury scare in the build-up. Robbie Brady got a much needed 90 minutes against New Zealand last Thursday evening but he didn’t do enough in my opinion to start tomorrow. Then again, I’d think James McClean would be far more effective coming on as a sub than starting on the left. Callum Robinson picked up his first goal for Ireland against New Zealand and hopefully it is the catalyst for a good performance on the right-hand side.

Glenn Whelan will anchor the midfield for Ireland. The most vilified Irish player in the last decade and retired by Martin O’Neill this time last year, Gleniesta has shown his value time and time again doing the dirty work in the middle. What doesn’t help his case is those playing either side of him playing poorly. Both Jeff Hendrick and Conor Hourihane, with a goal each to their name in this campaign, played as bad as I’ve ever seen them play last month. If they give the ball away as easily as they did against Georgia and Switzerland, then we’re giving Denmark a platform to repeat the 5-1 result. Their recent performances have led to increased calls for Jack Byrne to get a starting berth. Byrne, once a highly touted youth prospect with Man City, has been reborn at home with Shamrock Rovers and deserves all the plaudits he gets for his form in 2019. Starting Byrne will introduce a different dynamic to McCarthy’s Ireland. However, the occasion may necessitate this change. Either way, whoever starts in midfield tomorrow night needs to produce a huge performance.

Up front, it is likely David McGoldrick will lead the line by himself. I have always enjoyed watching McGoldrick for Ireland and his frontline presence is not something to scoff at. His perseverance and effort got it’s just reward in the home fixture against Switzerland. It is unfortunate that Aaron Connolly has been ruled out through injury but Troy Parrott could be the game-changing roll of the dice we utilise in search of a winner. At 17 years of age, Parrott has developed a reputation as the next Robbie Keane. Since Keano’s retirement in 2016, we’ve sorely lacked a goalscoring threat and with Connolly and Parrott, the future bodes well for our striking options. We also have Seani Maguire, who capped a good display against New Zealand with his first goal for his country. He has struggled in his previous appearances for Ireland but his performance on Thursday is exactly what we want to see tomorrow if he enters the fray. 

 

If we were more ambitious last month, we could have already qualified for Euro 2020. However, I wanted a shot at Denmark. I wanted revenge for two years previous. And if we lose tomorrow, we'll still have a shot of qualifying through the playoffs. For all the confusion thrown up by the Nations League, the frustration of below par performances, the sense of familiarity and the possibility of the unknown, tomorrow evening will come down to one simple phrase my favourite NFL team abide by.

JUST WIN BABY!

Good Intentions Never Good Enough

I may have missed the warning signs, but history will tell us what will happen next.

The story goes. The manager, who has achieved great things with Irish football in some shape or form, is now the target of murmurs, discontent, or severe dissatisfaction. The last five managers of the Irish National team Trappatoni, Staunton, Kerr, McCarthy and even Jack Charlton didn’t leave the job the way they wanted too.

I guarantee you the same fate will befall Martin O’Neill.


I essentially turned into a harsh critic of O’Neill overnight. And that night was last November. In the days and weeks after that game, I struggled to understand how on earth we conspired to throw our chance away. All the hopes and dreams I struggled to manage in the build-up suddenly evaporated into thin air. I couldn’t quite find the anger inside me to replace it. Could you begrudge Denmark for taking their chances? I certainly wasn’t one to turn on our own players, I’m sure they weren’t exactly thrilled at being overrun by the Danish either. Yet, I stood in the South Stand watching this game unfold, a farcry in contrast to the first leg. I had left Copenhagen Sunday morning, without great concern or fear of the Denmark squad. Yes, there was Christian Eriksen. No better than what we faced in the past, be it Bale, Pjanic, Kroos etc. He did nothing of note in the first leg. What was to suggest he’d do much better?

Only if we allow him to yeah but…


In the build-up, my nerves were shot. I was on edge. There’s a way to gauge my excitement. Start playing the opening chords of Put Em Under Pressure. If I’m jumping up and down with a smile on my face, belting out the lyrics, I’m happy. I may not be confident but byjesus I have faith and optimism that a pastor in the Deep South would marvel at. An alternative would find me using the same song as a Battlecry, a tool to manifest my emotions into a cathartic release. I was leaning more towards the latter the day of the 2^nd leg. I was still off work as a result of my broken ankle. I was walking again, but not without pain. This pain however was secondary to occasion at hand and later on, several pints. I was hoping for a great occasion. I believed we could qualify. However, I was apprehensive of my dreams falling apart too.


The belief surging within me stemmed from several facts. We had home advantage, we had playoff experience, and of course, we had heart & desire. We had the perfect scenario unfolding before us. As mentioned already, I saw nothing we couldn’t handle from the first leg. All it could take would be one goal. And then we got that goal, we got the perfect start. Shane Duffy, now our most dangerous attacking threat had capitalised upon a rare Danish mistake and put us 1 up after only five minutes. OK, scoring early has rarely suited us but we were a team that knew how to defend, defend for our lives if we must. As much as there has been luck along the way, we did have some semblance of a defensive structure. Remember, in the 11 previous competitive games at the Aviva Stadium, Ireland had only conceded a total of FOUR goals (Poland, Scotland in 2015 – Austria, Serbia in 2017).


What proceeded to happen was a complete and utter disaster. Denmark proceeded to score FIVE goals, one more than we ever had under O’Neill competitively in Dublin. And what kills me to say it even now, all five were avoidable. Feel free to watch them back if you must. Now, I do not begrudge the fact Denmark won, and won so well. The manner they effectively shut us out and exploited us after going behind is something no man Irish man can argue against. And in dissecting the mistakes on our end that caused our downfall, the best team went to Russia this summer. However, Martin O’Neill presided over the worst Irish football team performance in a generation. This is coming from someone who watched Germany hammer us 6-1 in 2012. We weren’t outclassed to the same extent as we were that evening. And if you want to be generous, Germany went to win the World Cup two years later!


Individual mistakes can happen. Cyrus Christie should really have cleared the ball off the line but was too flat footed to react quickly enough. Stephen Ward, for a player who was almost unrecognisable from the aberration he was back in 2012, was far too ambitious trying to take on Youssuf Poulsen. It was punished emphatically, and set the tone for the evening. That being said, it remained 2-1 at half-time. Before we conceded, James McClean had a great chance to make it 2-0 in our favour. I’m not going to be presumptuous and say his miss was the turning point. The turning point came when O’Neill, in sheer desperation, took off both his central midfielders Harry Arter and David Meyler (captain on the evening) in favour of Wes Hoolahan and Aiden McGeady. The move backfired spectacularly, with Christian Eriksen effectively given the freedom of Dublin City to crush our World Cup dreams.


When apportioning the blame in the fallout of defeat, you have to be fair. For example, as much as Paul McShane had his critics, you couldn’t possibly legislate for freak events such as Thierry Henrys handball going unnoticed. Roy Keane at the time thought otherwise. You  can be held accountable however, for taking off your two central midfielders and playing a 4-1-5 formation that played right into Denmark’s hands. It wasn’t their superior quality that qualified them. Eriksen did not have to play out of his skin at all. In the past, I and many others defended poor performances on the basis that the results justified the means and that it is a results business. If I was using that same logic, then maybe I would look at things differently. Yes, the result was horrific. At the same time, O’Neill led us to the playoffs as a fourth seed. That was nothing to be scoffed at. It did little to comfort me however, and the defeat opened my eyes to the bigger picture. While we did reach the playoffs, we had also squandered several chances to finish first in the group. And much like the playoff 2^nd leg, it was our tactical genius that stifled our courage to finish the job.


That night last November marked the end of the road for that team and management. There were too many players on the wrong side of 30, with the management continuing with same prehistoric tactics. The situation called for a fresh start. The influx of a new generation of younger players, and a manager who could guide and mould them into an effective team was far more appealing than any future O’Neill and Keane could promise us. Further to the point, O’Neill actually hadn’t signed a contract extension. There had been a verbal agreement with the FAI that he stayed on prior to our final two group qualifiers in October 2017. The decision to award a renewal prior to the home match against Moldova and away trip to Wales but seemed vindicated after we won 1-0 in Cardiff. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. His current contract, agreed before Euro 2016, was only signed after the World Cup qualifier with Serbia later that year.


It was typical from the FAI to do this. However, given our crushing defeat in the play-off, the organisation now had the perfect excuse to do away with any extension and move on. Breaking a verbal agreement is hardly best practice. However, there should be no room for sentiment in football. The result warranted serious questions, that some people were already asking. The same tired answers that O’Neill would give, the ones along the lines that the opposition are simply superior and we should be content with where we are etc. don’t cut it. That’s fine if you’re losing to Europe’s elite but he demonstrated tactical suicide in a tie that was far from beyond saving. Supporters, like myself, no longer had faith in his ability to do a good job. Public opinion would never reach the dizzy heights of post Euro 2016 again under his tenure. In the interests of Irish football, we had to wipe the slate clean and look to the future with some sort of positivity again. The football we were trying to play wasn’t good enough, and it certainly wasn’t going to get any better.

Of course the FAI did nothing. Nothing needed to be done in their eyes. O’Neill was still their man and there was no rush to sign a contract. And truth be told, they probably wouldn’t have done anything until this summer had it not been for Stoke City. Stoke decided to sack Mark Hughes at the beginning of the ear and began to look around for a solution, at least in the short term, that could save them from relegation. Martin O’Neill was the preferred choice of chairman Peter Coates, and on the 10^th January that Stoke made contact with O’Neill about the job. News, which to me, was absolutely fantastic! Stoke were to be harbringers of a new dawn for Irish football, something our own organisation lacked the balls to carry out themselves. And it was another indication that O’Neill wasn’t the right man for Ireland. He had always been linked to Premier League jobs during his tenure, he even spoke to Everton in the days after the Denmark defeat. Furthermore, there was a clause in his contract (the previously signed one) that he was allowed to speak to clubs who express an interest in him as long as he makes them (the FAI) aware of the situation. It seemed like the Stoke were intent on hiring O’Neill If they didn’t, we still had a manager with one eye looking elsewhere if the chance presented itself. We were facing into a period of transition going into the next campaign and to have someone at the helm who wasn’t fully committed further endeared me to the idea of his departure.


As it happened, Stoke were only willing to offer a short term deal, something O’Neill didn’t like. As a result, they opted for Paul Lambert as their manager. And O’Neill indicated to the FAI he would like to continue as Ireland manager. He suddenly decided to make an appearance Soccer Writers' Association of Ireland (SWAI) banquet after he held talks with the club. And refused to answer questions. It was a shambles of a situation and the fun didn’t atop when the FAI posted a video on their Twitter account. The quality mirrored the standard of football we were used to seeing from the national team. It was a 76-second interview between O'Neill and a member of the FAI's media team. The caption read, "Republic of Ireland Manager Martin O'Neill gives an update on his contract and looks ahead to 2018. However, O’Neill believed otherwise,  stating that the upcoming friendlies against Turkey and France would be a good opportunity to introduce some younger players into the international set-up. According to the clown asking the questions, it was an “exciting year ahead”, with “exciting times”.


There was nothing to look forward to in 2018. The Nations League is complete load of bullshit. These games are no more competitive than Rugby Matches are Test Internationals. If winning all the games doesn't qualify you, and losing all the games doesn't 100% rule you out of the playoffs, how can they be described as competitive? They might mean something, but theres no worries if you make a balls of it. And then there was the group we were drawn in. An Irish fan looks for a mix of two possibilities. Countries we can beat and countries we’d like to visit. Imagine our delight when Ireland were paired with fucking Wales and fucking Denmark. A mere 12 months after we played them, were back playing them again. Journalists desperate for some sort of angle pushed the revenge aspect of playing Denmark again. No Danish fan would lose as much sleep I did if we managed to beat them this October. I think it would be as painful if we did. An example of what might have been. Wales, under the new management of Ryan Giggs could do one of two things, have Bale lead them to glory or fail spectacularly like we did. Neither were games I looked forward to with anything other than disgust.

Fast forward to March and our friendly against Turkey. There were a grand total of 8 uncapped players in the squad. 2 of which were goalkeepers. The third, Colin Doyle, was winning his fourth cap at the age of 33. And he would play the entire game. No disrespect to Doyle, a consummate professional, but there was nothing tangible to be gained by playing a veteran goalkeeper for 90 minutes in a friendly. Especially considering the fact he was fourth choice keeper a few months earlier. The game itself, and the chance to blood in new players and dare I say it, a new philosophy produced nothing but the same. The tactics on show, if any, were still devoid of imagination or ambition. The players were injected with a sense of panic in possession. Turkey ran out comfortable winners by a scoreline of 1-0. To say the game was without any positive would be wrong however. Declan Rice confirmed to a nation what many were already saying. He was certainly one for the future. He was the one player who despite Irelands approach, rose above it with his composure and presence on the field. A 19 year old prospect who gave a lot of Ireland fans some reason to be positive for the future.


There were further friendlies against France and USA, where Rice featured in both. He was also captaining the U-21’s in their qualifying campaign. He led the celebrations of 96^th minute winner against Azerbaijan, where he kissed the badge in delight. He was born in England but his father was adamant he played for Ireland growing up. Unlike a certain Jack Grealish, Rice had now made 3 appearances for the Senior team and although they were uncompetitive, there was no doubt in anyones mind he would be the focal point of our rebuilding efforts come September in the Nations League. That was until, late August, when the news broke he was declining to join up with the Ireland squad for those games and questioning his International future. It became clear that Gareth Southgate had made an enquiry about Rice switching his allegiances to England. He needed time to think. His agent, in the middle of negotiating his clients contract for West Ham was pushing for the switch to England. Something that imbecile of an owner David Gold was pleading for as well. Naturally the fallout was delirious amongst Irish fans. The one prospect we had for the future was suddenly on the verge of leaving us. To me, there isn’t a question of what to do. After playing three games, and even stating before your deubt “there was no decision to make”, Rices sudden desire to question his future stunned me. And I asked a different question. What exactly has transpired in his three appearances and involvement in training camps might motivate him to jump ship?


Days before the Rice story broke, there was another alarming yarn from the Irish set-up. Ireland manager Martin O'Neill admitted that Jon Walters and Harry Arter were involved in an altercation with assistant manager Roy Keane the last time the squad met up. The story goes that Arter and Jonathan Walters were told they should not train by the Ireland medical staff and Roy then took exception to them missing a training session and ripped into the two players in pretty angry fashion. Whats fucking new I can hear you ask (whether you’re asking that or not). Allegedly, Rice played the peacemaker in the row. That bit I wouldn’t be to inclined to believe but again, the whole thing is a fucking shambles. Why is Keane questioning his own staff? And attacking his own players to the extent one of them is questioning his own future in the squad. Arter hasn’t set the world alight so far in his international career yet Ireland are in no position to cast aside a midfielder playing in the Premier League. Gone are the days we could name a starting eleven from that League by itself. Long gone.


With Rice questioning his future, players refusing call ups and others fighting, it really makes you wonder how toxic the atmosphere is in training. We all heard stories about how the training approach before Euro 2012 contributed to our lethargic ineffective performances in that competition. The hangover from that tournament lasted a full year before we failed to qualify for the World Cup in the next campaign. Fast forward six years later and we are enduring another self-inflicted hangover. We have a manager who has demonstrated little beyond his famous motivational skills to be astute at this level. His Assistant Manager is content enough to cause rows with the squad, and not feel the need to apologise afterwards. And our best talent in a generation is considering switching to England. That's something which was truly unimaginable 6 months to go to himself, O'Neill and many others. Rice isn’t the only prospect we have. There is raw talent we can nurture if we are brave enough to gamble on them. At the same time, I harbour no hope or ambition for them as long as O’Neill is the one guiding them.


I had no intention of travelling to Cardiff this evening. There’s good reason for that as I await the imminent arrival of my first child. A lot of my friends are over there now and for the first time ever I don’t begrudge them. No jealousy or regret for missing out on an away trip. The way I see it, there is no future worth embracing as long as Martin O’Neill and Roy Keane are involved with the Irish team. I’d much rather we sacrifice this campaign and build a new team for the next World Cup campaign. The longer they are in charge, the greater chance there is of sacrificing it for the wrong reasons.

The fact Denmark were willing to send 2^nd Division Futsal players to play Wales on Sunday is the only endorsement of the Nations League you’ll need to hear.

The World Cup

The FIFA World Cup.

I remember exactly where I was when we last qualified for it.

I had come from another mundane day at school, just in time to watch the 2nd leg of our playoff against Iran. It was dark in Tehran, and even darker in Tuam as I sat down to a dinner my grandmother had prepared for me. Through a combination of not liking pork (at the time) and being fascinated with Irish football, my interest in the dinner disappeared once the game kicked off. I was 10 years old, and I don’t really remember the tension of the occasion in particular. Iran had chances, good ones too but I can never recall being at unease. Certainly not the kind of unease I would feel on the verge of qualifying for a World Cup today. Although did they manage to score, it was too little too late as Ireland held a 2 goal aggregate difference from the first leg. Half of my dinner was still there as the final whistle went but I didn’t care. I was happy, my grandmother didn’t take too much notice of that happiness (as she admonished my lack of appetite) but Ireland we’re going to their third World Cup. For the first time in my life that I could recall, I was going to see Ireland in a major competition. That was special, even more special looking back on it now.

That qualifying campaign and the subsequent tournament that followed remain some of my happiest football memories. The friendlies we were playing now took on greater importance. The fringe players were now being mentioned with greater importance. Even the drama that was the Saipan incident only added to the excitement and novelty of our involvement. I knew no different, having been too young to recall USA 94. If I thought France 98 was special, then Japan/Korea 02 was going to be a different class altogether with Ireland in it. I would be waking up at 7 in the morning to watch us play Cameroon. Going berserk in the school library as Robbie Keane equalised against Germany. Going to school every day wearing my white Ireland jersey, with World Cup 2002 emblazoned underneath the crest. Walking across to the nearby secondary school to watch us play Saudi Arabia, still arguing about whether Roy Keane should be in the squad or not. We were told to keep it down as students were sitting exams in the hall across the way. Eh, what? Do you not realise we’re in a World Cup and we’re going to the last 16? And then Spain, breaking our hearts after we outplayed them across 2 hours of football. Losing in arguably the worst penalty shoot any of us can recall. I still remember the utter disgust of seeing GAA live on the TV later that day. It was a Sunday, it was raining, and it was dull, compounded by our World Cup exit.

Little did I know I’d still be waiting 15 years later for our return to World Footballs Greatest stage.

The FIFA World Cup.
the source of never ending heartbreak


My earliest memories of football in general, are of Ireland trying to qualify for France 98. No matter what the team, era, competition or result, your earliest memories of your favourite team will always bring back a certain amount of nostalgia. One dreary October day (a lot of days in Ireland are dreary or dull) while I was procrastinating to my hearts content in college, I came across a glorious google image. The moment I laid eyes on our 1996-97 goalkeeper jersey, I was consumed with one track desire to obtain one of my own. Looking at that purple masterpiece brought back a flood of memories. Of how we lost in Macedonia wearing Orange shirts. In fact all four of our jerseys in that campaign were some of the greatest ones we've ever had. Romania were simply unstoppable, winning all but one of their games. Ireland on the other hand were drawing with Lithuania and Iceland at home. Not knowing when that Kevin Kilbane made his debut away to Iceland, it would be the first of 66 consecutive competitive games he would play for Ireland across fourteen years. I remember the baby faced assassin David Connolly banging in a hat-trick in against Liechtenstein. We avenged our 0-0 draw in 1995 with the Alpine minnows with 5-0 wins home & away. In the end, Belgium ruined everything for a campaign that was supposed be a transition phase. Denis Irwin gave us the perfect start with a 4^th minute free-kick. Luc Nilis responded half an hour later. With an away goal to their name, Belgium made it 2-1 on aggregate in Brussels before Ray Houghton popped up AGAIN to score another famous Irish goal. This one you don’t recall as much because Nilis struck again, from a throw in that was supposed to go Ireland’s way. There would be no further response. I didn’t understand just how awful it would be a World Cup without Ireland in it. The campaign was a heroic failure that sowed the seeds for qualification four years later.

My beloved grandmother passed away in 2005. The evening of her removal coincided with Ireland’s 2-2 draw at home to Israel. I was completely oblivious to the fallout of that game. To this day, Dudu Aouate would evoke almost as negative reaction as Thierry Henry’s name would. For me, it doesn’t. I only saw the games dying moments and its meaning would never register with me understandably. The result was a setback for Ireland in the 2006 qualifying campaign, one we all had high hopes for.  Brian Kerr had taken over from Mick McCarthy in 2002 and salvaged our Euro 2004 qualifying campaign to the final game against Switzerland. While we would lose 2-0 to the Swiss, fans were adamant that a full campaign with Kerr in charge would only result in qualification. Unfortunately it didn’t. Remarkably, the top four teams would all draw against each other except in one fixture. It just happened that France would defeat us 1-0 at Lansdowne Road. That result ensured they qualified in first place. It would force another final game showdown with Switzerland. This time at home, all we needed to do was win. Surely we would win, I thought. We didn’t even score. I can still remember the sheer sense of anxiety that came over me as we entered injury time. “We have 90 seconds to go to a World Cup”. The 90 or so seconds passed without a goal. The Swiss had outfoxed us again. Brian Kerr hasn't worked in Irish football since that evening, a travesty in itself.

The night we lost to France in Dublin, Thierry Henry scored a sublime goal to settle the tie. It was the only bit of quality (aside from a wonderful Shay Given save from Zidane) in an otherwise tense and fractious game. And if Henry only had the fucking decency to score a similar goal four years later instead of what he actually ended up doing, he would have saved me and the whole country a significant amount of heart break. Nothing before or since in my time following Ireland, or football in general, had such a negative impact on me. After the debacle that was Steve Staunton’s spell in charge, the legendary Giovanni Trapattoni was hired to restore order to the Irish National team. He made an immediate impact in a campaign where we went undefeated with 4 wins and six draws. We were minutes away from a famous home win against Italy, only to concede an equaliser in injury time that confirmed their automatic qualification to South Africa. I had wild notions I'd go to that World Cup in South Africa, despite being financially struggling 2nd year college student who had never travelled outside of Europe. However wild those notions were, it was still a dream I believed in. And a return to the playoffs, where we had such a poor record at the time, didn’t faze me.

The alarm bells started to ring where in a move that snakes themselves would be proud of, FIFA decided to seed the playoffs. Previously, it was claimed that FIFA had indicated that there would be no seeding this time around. At the time of their decision, countries in play-off positions included France, Portugal, Russia and Germany. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the motive behind their decision, waiting to see which teams were in the play-offs before declaring the final format. Already the odds were stacked against our favour. As it happened, we were drawn against France, and our expectations were optimistic. France were now floundering under their incompetent manager Raymond Domenech. For all the talent at their disposal, to finish 2^nd in a group containing Serbia, Austria (that sounds familiar) Lithuania Romania and the Faroes Islands (there also familiar) was a poor return. There seemed to be a divide amongst the French media and their support over Domenechs leadership and it cast a cloud of uncertainty I wanted Ireland to exploit. We were settled, solid, not easy on the eye but resolute and resilient. Yet, in front of a full house at Croke Park, it didn’t pan out the way we wanted. A single goal from Nicolas Anelka was the difference. We would be heading to Paris needing to score twice to take the lead outright.

Our performance lacked cutting edge, on a night where the occasion called for something special. We had gotten it at times against Italy a month previous but not this time. Despite this, I remained convinced we could qualify. I don’t know what it was. Never for a single second did I think France would win comfortably in Paris, I knew Ireland were going to score. I travelled down to a pub in Letterkenny almost too emotional at the thought of history in the making. I will never forget the sheer explosion of delight and sheer surprise in the pub as Robbie Keane put us 1-0 up on the night levelling the tie. What took place that evening was arguably the finest display an Irish team has ever produced. They abandoned the cautious gameplan and approach instilled by Trapattoni and simply fucking went after it. In the second half, we squandered several good chances in the second half to kill the tie. Each one more devastating than the next. What killed me and thousands of others across Ireland was the moment Hnery handled the ball twice to set up William Gallas’ equaliser in extra time. Karma had no time to reply. France qualified for South Africa and we stayed at home. The fact France eventually did implode at the 2010 World Cup, the fact the FAI got a €5 million settlement for missing out, did little to alleviate the depression I felt for weeks and months after it.

The FIFA World Cup.

I wouldn't be here without it

Italia 90 is defined as pivotal moment in Irish history, never mind Irish sporting history. The novelty and success stemming from our participation in Euro 88 exploded into a cultural phenomenon that reverberated across the country. Amidst a backdrop of a team only scoring two goals and failing to win a game in normal (or extra time), every man woman and child alike was transfixed by the World Cup. Football, or Soccer, had always been popular in the country. World Cups were always a big draw for RTE to the point they’d been covering them for a number of years. This time however, Italia 90 took on a far greater significance naturally due to our own participation, the first in our history. Remarkably, we would reach the quarter finals, thanks to a famous penalty shoot out victory over Romania. While we lose to the hosts in Rome, no shortage of books, plays, songs and careers were born out of our involvement in this tourmanent. And Toto Schillaci was cursed on a T-shirt. Legends were made and we haven’t been the same since. Anyone born during or a short time after March of 1991, like myself, can work out the math. Those of us football inclined can attribute our immaculate conception to this wonderful tournament. Before you ask, I didn’t work this out myself. It is something pointed out to me time and time again by an older generation of Irish fans, much to their amusement. I haven’t asked my parents directly nor do I have any intention. However, it would explain a lot. An Irish football fanatic born out of our participation in a World Cup. Is it any wonder I want to go to one!

I’ve been following Ireland all my life and have only properly seen us compete at one World Cup. We have been good enough to qualify for more than just one in that time. Be it luck, or a cruel turn of fate, the greatest competition in football has eluded us and summers in this country have been that bit duller every four years. I still enjoy watching the World Cup regardless if we aren’t in it. It’s a month of high drama, high quality entertaining football that captivates audiences worldwide. However, I’ve had enough of watching these tournaments without us being there. Having been to the last two European Championships, it is no surprise to any of you reading this that if we are lucky enough to qualify next week, I will be going to Russia. It would be a dream come true to attend a World Cup where Ireland are involved. The closer I’m edging to it, I am reminded of the brief snippets of glory and eternal heartbreak and the fascinating excitement of our involvement in years gone by. The closer we get to the playoffs, the more this dream is becoming a desperate obsession. Denmark stand in our way. No pushovers by any means but we’ve faced better sides in recent years and come out on top. The thought of hearing the final whistle on Tuesday night knowing we have qualified brings shivers to my spines. I can’t comprehend what my emotions will be like in a couple of days time. I know right now I’m anxious and excited in equal measure.

Russia may not be the most ideal place to get to, or travel across, and many harbour doubts about their ability to host the tournament on a variety of levels. I’m not concerned about that nor will I be getting into it here. If you look ahead to the next instalments of this competition, the Russia 2018 edition becomes a lot more appealing. In 2022, you’ll have the prospect of travelling to Qatar. Many were bemused when the Arab country was awarded the privilege of hosting the greatest show on earth (move over Superbowl). I’m still surprised they haven’t been stripped of that privilege, given their human rights record and reports of people dying when constructing their stadiums. Speaking of these stadiums, they’ll be air conditioned apparently. And that still won’t prevent it from being held in Winter. Throw in Qatars strict alcohol restrictions and you’ll have a tournament that will rob the magic of a World Cup to suit their needs, their financial needs. From 2026 onwards, there'll be 40 teams taking part. That ruins everything in my opinion. You’ll have to break the bank just to see Ireland qualify for the last 24 or whatever expanded round they will come up with. Although the extra places are divided equally amongst separate continental confederations, even if an expanded World Cup allowed Ireland an easier passage of qualification, I would be not interested. A 40 team World Cup is diluting the overall quality of the tournament. Qualifying for it in its current set-up is an achievement in itself and worth celebrating. And that’s before you dream of going further.

The FIFA World Cup

It's encapsulated many aspects of my life.


It's time I, and thousands of other Irish fans, experienced its magic again.