Superb Dunne is real deal
Manchester City defender has learned from mistakes of his youth to emerge as the bedrock of Irish ambitions
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With each imposing header, whether towards the opposition goal or away from his own, with each pivotal interception on the floor, and with each inspirational lift to those often enervated men around him, Richard Dunne is doing more than any other player to propel Ireland closer to South Africa.
The Tallaght man, possessed all at once with such extraordinary heft dappled with surging pace, whose graceful touches rarely obviate his bulldozing awkwardness, has become the on-field sine qua non of this campaign.
Eight years after sitting on the fringes as Ireland's World Cup hopes exploded in their faces, when his most sparkling intervention was to question attitudes to his lifestyle -- while smoking a Harry Wragg and downing spirits -- Dunne's ascension to full maturity, and indispensability to this Irish team, deserves rewarding presence at next summer's tournament.
First, though, he must contend with a return to the scene of another crime against Irish football, and another personal blot on his professional career, as Ireland return to Cyprus in September, their last notable obstacle to securing at least a play-off slot.
opportunity
Or, whisper it, the opportunity to thieve automatic qualification.
In the newspaper trade, we chide ourselves about regurgitating meaningless daily medical bulletins in the build-up to big matches. We ought chide no more. All Irish supporters in Sofia enquired daily as to the state of Dunne's knee; more so than the health of their country's captain.
For Ireland not to lose, Il Capo's favoured philosophy, Dunne, rather than his fond Tallaght neighbour, would be crucial to the plans. A wheezing pre-match routine assuaged only slightly the concerns about a wounded knee cajoled with painkillers.
The opening hostilities rendered him in the rudest of health and he took grave exception to any potential infiltrations from men in white; he smote Dimitar Berbatov with a thumping tackle; Martin Petrov, a club colleague, was vigorously escorted towards the left-hand touchline before the ball was ejected into the gleeful Irish crowd.
And on it went. "He was unbelievable tonight," beamed Sean St Ledger coolly after his baptism of fire. But he knew that his colleague had helped him avoid most of the flickering flames.
"If he's not one of the best centre-halves in the Premiership, well, I don't know who is. He's very very good to play with, he makes it very easy, he's talking all the time, always talking, and you just have to look at some of the tackles he made today. Playing alongside someone like Richard Dunne makes it easy for you."
The wiles and weaves of Berbatov was another distraction; he commenced in an orthodox position but soon enough it was pretty clear that he was operating from the traditional No 10 slot.
The imprint of Dunne's early brace of physical greetings required the fitful captain to drift into the gaping space left vacant by the sub-standard Irish central midfield, such that an APB was required at half-time to locate Glen Whelan in particular. The enigmatic Berbatov's first half recalled his White Hart Lane days, his second was more fitful Old Trafford. Dunne had done much to subdue him and restrain Bulgaria to increasingly long-range sorties.
"Richard is less anxious now," the manager intimated, before highlighting the remarkable incongruity central to the player's almost calm assuredness amidst the rampaging violence, attributes befitting the best prize-fighters.
"He plays the game easy but he heads the ball strong," said Trapattoni. "He also anticipates other players and reads the game well. Like Nigeria, he was the best player on the pitch."
Trapattoni knows how invaluable Dunne is to the Irish cause.
Especially as team-mates in front of him struggle to compile decent goal tallies -- an opening goal seems to be the signal, contradictory to the manager's instructions, for the strikers to become cowed and the midfielders to drop deeper. "Once we got in front it was backs to the wall stuff really," admitted Dunne.
Ireland's inability to maintain possession, string even a modicum of passes together, heaps further pressure upon them. "I think the manager was a little p***ed off with us," Damien Duff reported.
From the moment Bulgaria equalised, Trapattoni seemed to spend much of his time turning to his seven substitutes and gesturing wildly. "Why?" Afterwards, he pleaded "Why do we not play like the first 30 minutes for the next 30 minutes?"
He is frustrated that his side fail to complete his instructions, nearly knocking Stephen Hunt down after the final whistle as the perfectionist in Trap still fumed at the needless concession of a full hour of the game's momentum.
That not all his side are good enough to do so is a key point and this is why the persistent luring of Stephen Ireland remains a live issue, as the stakes become higher and follies become less acceptable.
Their belief -- or lack of it -- remains a key point as well despite the immutable spirit within the squad. And yet for all the brave words during the week, Ireland failed to press home their advantage against a mediocre defence.
Their manager's innate conservatism solves some of this puzzle; why toil for more than 1-0 when a lead goal invites not losing as the key imperative? Ireland may not fold like deck chairs as when guided by the mercurial football brain resident in Steve Staunton, but enough "leete details" are being ignored to consistently place the side in peril at a moment's notice.
All the while as we pondered these weighty issues, Dunne had to shepherd his new defensive partner and also keep an eye on the inherent weaknesses in Kevin Kilbane's game which have become so horribly over-exposed in these twin fixtures.
Of course, it was Dunne who had done so much, as in Dublin, to provide the platform upon which he would have expected Ireland to build on, after he rose stunningly to execute the pre-planned set-piece move, John O'Shea keeping his promise to bear-hug his United colleague Berbatov.
"When the ball came across, I knew I was free and I would have been really disappointed had I missed," said Dunne. "But I was free because John said to me as I came forward that he'd block Berbatov so to run at him.
"So I ran at him and I was free -- I was delighted. I watched it back on TV and Berbatov is being cuddled by Josh."
And he reserved words of praise for his newest partner. "He was outstanding. He was great last week but to come here in such an important game is a testament to him."
St Ledger, still beaming, said: "I was nervous before the game. I knew I had to try and impress; I haven't been in the squad all year and I've been tried to be patient.
"I was thinking if I don't play well here then I might not be in the next squad. I've got a good partnership with Dunney and hopefully the partnership will last but that's up to the manager."
Shay Given reckoned he was "Paul McGrath-like." At one stage late in the piece, three white shirts lay writhing on the floor, Dunne forging through the fallen detritus like some ancient warrior.
"A rock at both ends," marvelled Given. Without him, Ireland would certainly have foundered.
- david kelly
