World gone wrong

There are two ways of sizing up the Republic’s 2002 World Cup campaign thus far.

One is to lament the failings of our strikers to consistently score goals over the course of Group Two, to bemoan the shocking incompetence of the defending against Portugal the other week, and to "look forward" to the Holland game in much the same way that a horse "looks forward" to an invigorating shot of ketamine.

The other is to take the view that Ireland are doing remarkably well for a team which, in all honesty, lies somewhere between Belgium and Paraguay in the international scheme of things.

Foul Play, benevolent as ever, tends to lean towards the latter point of view. Of the XI that started against Portugal, only Given, Carr, Kinsella, a fully fit Quinn and the two Keanes could be relied on not to embarrass the piss out of the nation at next year’s finals. In fact, the more I look upon the names in the Republic’s squad, the more I think that we’ve got some cheek to entertain any hope of qualifying for the thing at all.

Of course, you could spend any amount of time idly ruminating on how the hell Ireland have ascended to their current heights with a squad that contains – and I am giving it the most optimistic spin possible here – seven good players and thirteen mediocrities.

One of those good players, Matt Holland, cannot even get an international game most of the time, due to our usual ill luck in having a surfeit of talent in some positions (goalkeeper, central midfield, right-back) and a total absence of adequacy in other areas.

Looking around the other World Cup groups, though, it seems plain that there is something of a sea-change sweeping through international football at the moment; a climate of, shall we say, egalitarianism of competence, where anybody can beat anybody, but not everybody.

It is a situation where the first of the automatic qualification berths for the Far East seems certain to be claimed by either the worst German team that anyone can remember, or Poland, who are a ropey proposition at the best of times, or Russia, who had major difficulty beating Luxembourg the other week.

It is a situation where Norn Iron can come within seconds of getting a gruesome draw off the Czech Republic. It is a situation where Brazil, having just sacked their third manager in 18 months, are in seriously deep shit in the South American group, but Ecuador are effectively home and hosed already.

Faced with this unbelievable levelling off in global standards, it is hard to get worked up at the idea that an Ireland team containing Richard Dunne, Ian Harte, Gary Kelly and Jason McAteer might prevent Holland participating at the 2002 World Cup.

That Ireland have been the beneficiaries of some amazing luck in this group is not in doubt. Indeed, much of it has occurred in games not involving us. Think of Holland blowing a two-goal lead with five minutes to go in Oporto a couple of months ago. If they had managed to stay awake and hang on for the final few seconds, it would be they, and not us, requiring only a draw from the Lansdowne game in September.

Holland seem to be suffering from the mother of all hangovers after their dismal loss on penalties to Italy in the Euro 2000 semi-finals. That, at least, is the only charitable explanation for their performance in Tallinn, the highlights of which I sneaked a peek at on Eurosport.

To be 2-1 down to Estonia with four minutes to go takes some doing for an established football nation, but Holland managed it, before belatedly coming to their senses and mowing down their opponents with a flurry of close-range goals in stoppage time.

For what it’s worth, I have a feeling in my water that the Dutch assignment may not turn out to be the horror-show it is being billed as. For all the Irish team’s considerable and evident faults, they do not tend to lose at home, nor have they ever let in more than one goal in a competitive fixture in Dublin under McCarthy.

All things being equal, however, we cannot score goals in decent quantities, we cannot keep a clean sheet against anything resembling a proper team, and we rely more on one player than any other comparable football nation in Europe, but enough of that.

We can prevail, of course, presuming that we have something resembling our first-choice back four on the pitch. Holland’s attack, which at the moment is any two from Kluivert, Hasselbaink and Ruud van Nistelrooy, would surely make mincemeat of the hapless shower of shitehawks who played in "defence" against Portugal.

The return of Kenny Cunningham, who seems to have been locked in a cupboard somewhere for the past year, cannot come quick enough. But will his presence be enough to surmount The Breen Factor? And what will we do if Holland put the ball anywhere near our left flank, where Ian Harte has lately been essaying a very believable imitation of the worst player in Europe?

In truth, I really don’t like to think about it at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off for a lie-down in a darkened room.