When Ireland take on France in Dublin tonight and Paris on Wednesday, neutrals around the world will probably have a slight preference for Ireland the underdog -- the little green David against the giant blue Goliath. But for many Italians, certainly for Italian football fans, the backing for Ireland will be far more passionate.

There are several reasons for this. First, there is a strong neighbourly rivalry between Italy and France. Second, there is the Trap factor. Third, the Domenech factor. Finally, there is naked self-interest. It should perhaps be pointed out that what these reasons add up to is Italians mostly rooting against France rather than for Ireland.

Italians call the French 'nostri cugini transalpini' -- our cousins from over the Alps, and, as in many relationships between close cousins, a thin layer of affection masks depths of competitive tension.

Conflict between the two countries has a long pedigree, but the mighty ding-dongs of the past -- from the Napoleonic invasions to the Second World War -- are less significant in shaping the rivalry than arguments over which country produces the better wine, food, fashion and football.

bubbled

This competitiveness bubbled to a head in the 'Wine Wars' of the 1980s, when the world's two biggest wine-producing countries were drawn into tit-for-tat protectionism, which ended with exports of Italian spumante being stopped at the French border and publicly emptied. The 'war' ended on August 30, 1985, with all the solemnity of a full-blown armistice.

As 'La Repubblica' reported at the time: "Yesterday morning, in the drawing room of the Prefecture of Nice, the Agriculture Minister, Filippo Maria Pandolfi, with his French counterpart, Henri Nallet, signed the peace treaty, which took the form of a 'convention of co-operation' in the wine sector."

Rather like the English and the Germans, the French and the Italians are far similar in temperament and have far more in common than either would like to admit. For Italians, the stereotypical Frenchman is haughty and a little too self-satisfied -- exactly the opposite of the traits that they admire in Ireland's Italian coach, Giovanni Trapattoni, the humble, down-to-earth man from Cusano Milanino.

Enough has been written over the past 18 months about Italy's affection for Trapattoni for the theme to require no repetition here, but there is one point about Trap taking Ireland to South Africa next summer that has been largely overlooked. At club level, Italian football has been in the doldrums in recent years but if there is still a deep source of pride in the country -- and a legitimate one -- it lies in Italy's ability to produce great coaches.

A quick survey of Monday's sports pages, which revelled in Chelsea's Italian coach, Carlo Ancelotti, once again getting the better of the Manchester United manager, Alex Ferguson, would be enough to confirm that sense of pride.

Qualification for Ireland would be a boost for the Italian football movement and, in particular, for the Italian FA's technical centre in Coverciano, near Florence. It would mean that three of the 32 nations in South Africa would have an Italian at the helm. Trap would join Italy's World Cup-winning coach, Marcello Lippi, and the England coach, Fabio Capello. More importantly, though, for Italians it would mean not having to see French coach Raymond Domenech on the touchline.

Italian football fans have an almost visceral loathing for Domenech. This can be dated precisely to the 110th minute of the World Cup final in Berlin on July 9, 2006. In the tumultuous moments following Zinedine Zidane's head-butt to the solar plexus of Italy defender Marco Materazzi, Domenech put on a little show worthy of the great French mime artist Marcel Marceau.

On the main global broadcast feed, Domenech could be seen giving ironic applause, dismissively waving his hands and then applauding Zidane as the French captain left the field. Off screen, as Lippi later revealed, Domenech approached Materazzi, who had left the pitch to receive treatment, and mimed that the Italian had been play acting, an accusation that infuriated Lippi, who had to be pulled away from his rival.

Domenech's subsequent refusal to accept the defeat to Italy with good grace, or to condemn Zidane for the head-butt, only deepened the antipathy towards him.

"Materrazzi was the man of the match, not Andrea Pirlo," Domenech said afterwards, still in richly ironic form. "He scored and he got Zidane sent-off. When one has to put up with what he (Zidane) had to for 80 minutes and the referee doesn't do anything, one understands."

Beating France that night, and again at Euro 2008, has gone some way to healing the scars that the French had inflicted in 2000, when Italy were seconds away from winning the European Championship and ended up losing to a 'golden goal', and in 1998, when a strongly-fancied Italy side were knocked out of the World Cup on penalties by France in the quarter-finals.

linger

But the anti-Domenech feelings linger and a more complete form of revenge would be to see France eliminated from the 2010 World Cup finals. If that came with the added bonus of Domenech losing his job, well, pazienza (so be it), as the Italians say.

Closer than vindictiveness to the core of the Italian psyche, however, is self-interest. The most compelling reason of all to hope for an Ireland victory is to avoid meeting France again in South Africa.

For all Ireland's stubbornness in the two World Cup qualifying games, and the bitter memory of Ireland's 1-0 victory over Italy in New York at the 1994 World Cup, Italians would much rather meet Ireland than France at the business end of the tournament. A fact which, when all is said and done, merely demonstrates their profound respect for the football played by their cugini transalpini.

Irish Independent