Captain rallies late to lift dogged Green Army
Sunday September 06 2009
Leave it to Robbie. Cometh the hour cometh the man. And, not for the first time, Keane was the man for Ireland.
With the optimists among us prepared to point out that a draw wasn't exactly a disaster and the pessimists prepared to put a match to the bonfire that is always heaped for the Irish team these days, our captain rendered all debate superfluous with the most telling of all football arguments -- a goal at the right time.
It was a Keane header which got us out of jail when we struggled woefully in Croke Park against Georgia. And the gates of the penal colony were yawning open even wider in Nicosia when our captain poached one of those goals that great strikers make look routine but which win matches and change the course of qualifying campaigns.
Once more we did just enough to win. And if the cry goes up once more that Trapattoni is a 'lucky manager' then we should ponder the fact that no one is quite this lucky. Produce a run of good fortune like this in a Las Vegas casino and they'd be hustling you towards the door before you put in for your winnings.
We're not lucky. We're honest. We're tough. And we believe. And sometimes that's enough. Most of the time it's enough.
They take it out of you, these Irish games. Because we don't do straightforward and we don't do simple. An Irish performance is more like a concert of difficult modern music which demands nothing less than rapt attention from a listener who's not allowed to sit back and relax for a minute. The spectator has to work at it when Trapattoni's ensemble takes the stage.
Just for once it would be nice to be able to relax. And for a little while it looked as though an uncharacteristically easy viewing experience might be in store after Kevin Doyle pounced to give us the lead in the fifth minute, reacting with the ruthless and exact movement of a cat halting the gallop of an over-confident mouse. Just for once, we allowed ourselves to think, there might be a second goal and a chance to take a few untroubled breaths.
Some hope. Even before Ilia's thumping equaliser on the half-hour it was obvious that Cyprus were sufficiently emboldened by the memory of our previous visit to fancy their chances of a repeat victory. We might never have plumbed the depths the way we did during that infamous fiasco but there were occasions when the home side showed sufficient verve, energy and invention to remind you of what they were capable of were Ireland to suffer a flashback. Trapattoni's team do not possess sufficient firepower to make any game a routine fixture.
So the game settled into the kind of test of nerve and endurance we've become familiar with during this campaign. The difference is that under Trapattoni, that moment where Ireland wilt and lose belief usually doesn't occur. This team abides.
You could see why Italy had to go the very last minute before scoring the winner against a side who have improved a great deal since they were a reliable whipping boy. Then again, these days the old-style whipping is rare in international football. You have to tough it out against the Cypruses of this world in the 21st century. Somewhere along the line there's been a globalisation of defensive solidity and midfield organisation.
But if it was not pretty and if the attacking duo of Okkas and Aloneftis made John O'Shea and Richard Dunne look uncomfortable to an extent that far more famous strikers have failed to do, we did hang in there. Italy cruised past Georgia. We don't have a cruising speed. That gear is not available to us. Hence our aspirations have to be tailored to our more modest cloth. Every game requires 100 per cent effort. Every game could go either way. But they've been going ours.
Second place at least will be ours because, bumpy though the ride has been, we have gone unbeaten through our away schedule. Which, bearing in mind the ropey moments, the various pitfalls and our own limitations, is quite an achievement. And if it was achieved with football which was sometimes of the bottled Guinness rather than the Champagne variety, it's because that's what we have in the tank.
It ended as usual with Ireland defending and the nation's football fans holding their collective breath. But once more we can be proud of a team which gives it everything and never discounts the possibility of there being something more available to a team who keep believing. This was the kind of game we used to lose under Steve Staunton and draw under Brian Kerr. These days we win them.
So perhaps it's time to laud the players who don the green jersey rather than the one who refuses to or the one who's been judged surplus to requirements. Because there are only two games left and we're in a position no one would have imagined we'd be in at the start of the campaign.
Though apparently five players had to fly economy class a couple of days before the match. For some people that kind of thing is the real story.
Pity about them. It isn't just God who loves a trier. The rest of us love them too.
And this team, this marvellous, dogged team, give it everything. This team richly deserves our affection.
- EAMONN SWEENEY
