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.

Just Believe...once more

Ireland entered three international breaks in pole position of Group D this year. And before each break, I wrote articles imploring them to seize the initiative, to gamble big on their advantage. I had every faith they’d do it each time. Even entering the third of those three breaks, I expected them to win in Georgia and go toe-to-toe with Serbia with 1^st place up for grabs.

We now enter the fourth international break hanging on by our fingertips.


In my last series of articles, I mentioned that I suffered a broken ankle. The break itself and subsequent recovery have been tough. I took for granted being able bodied and fending for myself beforehand. It’s not something I’d wish on anyone I have time for. Nor is it something I want to experience again. However, watching Ireland playing Georgia in Tbilisi at the end of August did something I never thought possible. They made me extremely grateful I broke my ankle and cancel my trip to Tbilisi. Lying back on the couch watching that game was one of the most uncomfortable experiences I’ve had watching my country. It was that bad, horrific to watch. A display rife with an inability to create or string together a few passes, being outplayed by a team that were ranked 112^th in the world at the time. Thing is that even if Ireland had even played 50% better, Georgia were still worthy of a result greater than 1-1. Our old failings, scoring early and retreating, a lack of confidence, hoofing the ball forward aimlessly and relying on half chances all came back to haunt us. The result surrendered our advantage and left us in a predicament. However that took a backseat in favour of overwhelming negativity that took its place in driving seat of criticism aimed at the team and management afterwards.


We now had to beat Serbia the following Tuesday to maintain our hopes of not only trying to win the group but our chances of making the playoffs. Serbia were a different animal from the one we nabbed a point from in the opening game. They were now a far more organised team, brimming with quality. And they knew our situation, as they were quite happy to soak up whatever pressure we applied on the night.­ Our performance in comparison to the previous game was much better. Not that it would be hard to better it. However, our need for three points was greater than Serbia’s and their game-plan paid off handsomely by catching us out on the break when Aleksandr Kolarov struck a bullet into the roof of the net past Randolph early in the 2^nd half. Amidst the negativity from the weekend, along with the infuriating gamesmanship displayed by Serbia and Cuneyt Cakirs inability to punish it, we couldn’t rise above it. 1-0 was how it finished. We are now five points behind Serbia, and more alarmingly, one point behind Wales in third, having held a four point advantage over them less than a week previous.





If the year of 2016 would go down in Irish football history, it’s quite possible we’ll want 2017 stricken from the record. The parallels with our Euro 96 qualifying campaign to the current one are eerie. That was a campaign where Ireland topped the table with 13 points from 15 after five games, grabbing a home win over Portugal at halfway stage. Our next game would see us draw 0-0 away to Liechtenstein, a result that still beggars belief 22 years on. In the remaining four games, we would acquire only 3 points, from an ugly 2-1 home win against Latvia. Coupled with two 3-1 defeats to Austria, Ireland went into their final game against Portugal needing a win to guarantee qualification. We would suffer a 3-0 defeat in the heavy Lisbon rain. Had we conceded anymore, then Northern Ireland could have overtaken us into 2^nd place. As the Jack Charlton era was free-falling into tragic end, remarkably, it was the North who done the Republic a massive favour by beating Austria in their final game as it ensured Ireland would enter a playoff against the Netherlands, which we would also lose. Both teams had the ignominy as finishing the worst runner ups out of all 10 groups.
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Nowadays the worst runners-up are excluded from the playoffs. And 22 years later, we are still relying on other teams results to get us over the line. Before Thursday evening came around, I was liable to lay into the situation as it stood for Ireland and conclude this article with a prayer. That was before Scotland entered the equation. You remember them? The country I mercilessly had no time for as we battled it out for a playoff spot in Euro 2016 qualifying. The country whose Tartan Army I, and many other Irish fans, were telling to fuck off while we partied towards qualification. Well if we hadn’t returned to liking them again we were flat out roaring for them against Slovakia. Chance after chance after hitting the post twice after chance with an extra man advantage fell their way until they forced Martin Skrtel to score an own goal in the 89^th minute. As it stands, they only need a win in their last game away to Slovenia to qualify for the playoffs. Ireland need them to do anything but that. In the space of half an hour, we’ve gone from begging them to win to hoping they don’t win for the rest of the year. If they do fail to win in Slovenia, then all Ireland will need to do is win against Moldova and Wales.


The other threat is Bosnia and Herzegovina. They’re also familiar, as we knocked them out in a playoff to qualify for Euro 2016. As of now, they have two games left against Belgium, who are already qualified, and Estonia, who sit second last in the group. It’s quite possible Bosnia can still gather six points that will be counted in the final tally. The tally in question is for the Ranking of second-placed teams. It rules out the results you’ve obtained against the worst team in your group to determine your points tally. This is what amplified the negative soundbites from our last international outing, the seemingly irreparable damage it had done to our qualifying hopes. Winning our last two games would leave us with 13 points in that table and that seemed like it would not be enough, barring other teams messing up on our behalf. We’d gone from slugging it out for first place to needing miracles to get a playoff spot. Such is the beauty of football that everything has spun on its head to give us hope once more. Oh, and Gareth Bale is out of Wales final two qualifiers. The momentum is slowly building towards the Promised Land once more after nearly a month of despondency.

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OK, I shouldn’t believe the hype. I orchestrated enough of it this year to have fall flat on my face. We came into 2017 in a superb position and I firmly believed we would rubber stamp our visas to Russia for next year without the need for a playoff. Right now I’ll take a playoff spot no matter how ugly it gets in our next two games. And it was pretty ugly last month. Although I say that, our performance against Serbia was much improved, until we went behind. It suddenly prompted O’Neill to take off Wes Hoolahan, the architect behind our good passing play and put on Daryl Murphy, a target man whose overall contribution to the team shouldn’t go unnoticed in this campaign. However, on this occasion, Ireland reverted to type, lumping long aimless balls into the box with no design, only hope. This was more galling given Serbia had a man sent off in the 68^th minute. Much like our advantage against Wales, we still couldn’t make the most of it. It was galling to watch, especially considering that given the opening half, we played some decent football. The football we played with an extra man was infuriating, cowardly even. Our players are far better than route one and we should have showed that when we needed it most.


Ireland need to win both games, regardless of what happens when Wales play Georgia tonight. We will beat Moldova. By how much is irrelevant seeing as those results will be void when it comes but we need goals. Ireland have only scored 6 goals in the calendar year of 2017. Four of them came in friendlies. Shane Long has not scored since the opener away to Moldova in October last year. James McClean is our highest goalscorer this campaign with two, both coming in that same Moldova game. We’ll never see the likes of Robbie Keane again but by jesus I didn’t expect us to suffer a goal drought like this after he retired. The lack of goals has been the catalyst behind the campaign for Seanie Maguire’s international call-up. The Cork man was on fire scoring goals galore for Cork City in the League of Ireland before moving to the Championship for Preston during the summer. Since then he has managed to score twice so far for his new club. He made the provisional squad last time out before being cut but even O’Neill can’t ignore our woeful strike rate. In addition to Maguire, Scott Hogan has received his first call-up to the squad alongside another uncapped forward in Aiden O’Brien. Hogan, who has been on the radar for more than a year finally secured his Irish passport last month and although his start to the 2017-18 season for Aston Villa has been quiet, he scored 15 goals in the Championship last season, more than Daryl Murphy and David McGoldrick (both in the squad) combined. How much time any of these new recruits will get remains to be seen but against Moldova, we shouldn’t fear trying something new up front.

Randolph will remain our No.1. You couldn’t fault him for either goal conceded against Georgia and Serbia and since moving to Middlesbrough during the summer, he has been in fine form. It would be surprising if O’Neill decide to change the back four of Christie, Duffy, Clark and Ward for these two games. It would be fantastic if Ward can replicate his delightful Premier League form for Burnley of late for Ireland this weekend. The same can be said of Jeff Hendrick, whose return should be a timely boost for an Irish midfield under severe pressure to deliver. David Meyler’s performance against Serbia earned a him a Man of the Match award and it will surely give him a starting role against Moldova Friday night to put him in the frame for Mondays showdown. Whatever technical ability he may lack, his heart and desire in covering the ground and putting tackles in was excellent against the Serbs. It was also potentially a death knell in Glenn Whelan’s Ireland career, whose toothless display against Georgia was one too many for O’Neill it seems. Conor Hourihane made an appearance in the Serbia encounter but had little effect that evening. That being said, it showed O’Neills faith in him and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was given another chance at some stage against Moldova.


Jon Walters is injured which is a blow while McClean and Brady are suspended, which is no harm in my opinion. Brady has not been the same since Euro 2016, much like myself. He has been inserted into a free role of sorts with the No.10 jersey that has left him completely lost in every Ireland game he’s played since. He is a shadow of the goal and set piece threat that was utilised on the left flank in the last campaign. I hope his suspension does one of two things. I hope it convinces O’Neill he shouldn’t be played centrally against Wales and/or give McGeady the start his form in the last year has been crying out for. Heck I’ve been crying out for it in my last 3 Ireland related articles. And in those key games (excluding Serbia, for which he was injured) he got a mere 53 minutes in total to replicate that form, all from the bench. He featured for 29 minutes against Georgia and was more direct than any other Irish player that night. It didn’t reap any reward nor did it spare McGeady any of the backlash that followed. However, against Moldova, he has to be given a starting role. He has continued his good club form since joining Sunderland in the summer. His effect as an impact sub is muted so I think it’s imperative he starts the game so he can influence it from the beginning. Ireland are crying out for creativity in the final third.

It was announced yesterday that Martin O’Neill and assistant manager Roy Keane have signed contract extensions and will lead us into the next campaign. Few saw that coming given the backlash they received last month. The timing is vintage FAI, I would have far preferred seeing how we performed in these final two games before thinking about extensions. However, O’Neill has not done a terrible job. We did qualify for Euro 2016 and we began this campaign as 4^th seeds. There is definitely scope for improvement and we have to see new blood coming into the squad. Wales gambled on Ben Woodburn last month and the 17 year old popped up to score the winner against Austria. I would love to see faith like that rewarded this weekend and especially in the future. What makes our poor performances even more frustrating is that we have seen our players perform, not only at club level but in the green shirt too when it matters most. Both tonight and on Monday, it matters more than ever. Like against Italy in June 2016 or in Paris 8 years ago, our backs are against the wall, we need to come out fighting for our lives.


I tweeted (@FCr_91) last night that we should not ignore the Gary McKay comparisons, the dominoes are falling one result at a time. After the last month of negativity, I will travel to the Aviva on one crutch, with renewed hope. On the ferry to Wales Saturday evening, I will believe. #COYBIG