Undaunting Staunton
As 2006 dawned, Irish soccer fans, though traumatised by the prospect of non-involvement in the World Cup, could at least look forward to fulfilment of John Delaney’s promise to recruit ‘a genuinely world-class manager’. His clear inference was that Brian Kerr had failed to fit the description, and that the team needed guidance from a proven winner with an extensive track record of top-level success.

Eyebrows were raised, then, when January brought the announcement that the nation’s fate had been entrusted to Steve Staunton, a complete novice in the managerial stakes. ‘Stan’ was, and remains, the recipient of enormous public affection on account of his prior services to the green shirt, but his touchline experience had consisted only of a (largely unsuccessful) stint coaching Walsall’s defenders.
The general reaction to Staunton’s appointment was one of justifiable dismay, partially mitigated by the news that the venerable Sir Bobby Robson (at 73, too old for the top job) would bring his vast experience and time-honoured know-how to the assistant’s post. There was a brief honeymoon, with the tabloids getting ridiculously excited after a 3-0 friendly win over a Swedish side who knew exactly how much the match meant – nothing. Conversely, there was an unwarranted outbreak of panic when the Dutch destroyed a second-string Republic 4-0 in another meaningless friendly.
The real acid test arrived in September. Staunton’s competitive debut could scarcely have been any tougher: Germany, away. A mildly enterprising performance yielded a reasonably creditable 1-0 defeat, but it was disturbing to hear the manager prattling on afterwards about Ireland’s allegedly ‘magnificent’ display; one imagines a quick re-run of the video will have convinced him otherwise.
The wheels fell off completely during October’s visit to Cyprus, an occasion which inflicted mental scars that may never heal. The uncelebrated Cypriots repeatedly ripped the Republic’s defence to shreds, and can look back on their 5-2 victory in the full knowledge that the scoreline failed to remotely reflect their absolute dominance.
The Czechs came to Dublin four days later, with a stupefied and traumatised nation bracing itself for the worst. Stan’s injury-stricken troops responded with a skilled and spirited display, but the result (1-1) served the Czechs’ purposes far better than ours. The manager finally registered his first competitive win with a purposeful (if clumsy) 5-0 stroll against a San Marino side so hideously awful they were amusing to watch, but surveying the wreckage of a catastrophic 2006, it’s difficult to find anything to be positive about.
Staunton’s incessant talk of a long-term four-year plan makes it sound as if he’s getting his excuses in early. He’s also spectacularly ill-at-ease in his dealings with the media. That said, one can sympathise with the manager’s indignation over some of the scumbag journalism which followed the Cypriot affair, several tabloids having decided to ape the worst aspects of Fleet Street’s behaviour, vilifying an obviously decent man in the most sickening manner imaginable.
It’s doubtful whether Stan will still be at his post this time next year, and with all the damage already sustained, it will require an unprecedented footballing miracle to deliver a ticket to Euro 2008. Man of the year: Brian Kerr, who managed to provide accurate TV co-commentary on the Cyprus catastrophe without once drawing even veiled reference to the obvious fact that there’s no way such a shambles would have happened under his watch. Discarding him seemed foolish at the time, and can now be seen as an act of insanity. We’ll have to live with the consequences.
Punching Above Our Weight
It’s been a good year for Irish sport. Football followers of Jepubbelic of Airland might disagree, but look at the evidence.
A stylish Kilkenny team regained the All Ireland hurling title from Cork after a two year gap; Kerry’s footballers romped to victory against Mayo. On the running track, meanwhile, Derval O’Rourke won a silver medal in the European Championships with a brilliant, blistering run. Bernard Dunne hammered his way to becoming European boxing champion. Not to be outdone, Katie Taylor from Bray won gold at the Women’s Boxing World Championships.
In rugby Ireland nailed a Triple Crown, Munster won the Heineken Cup (at last) and in recent weeks South Africa and Australia were comprehensively beaten by an international team that looks and plays like the next best thing after the dominant New Zealand All-Blacks. Heady days.
Throw in the extraordinary rendition of the US golf team by Europe in the Ryder Cup in September, Padraig Harrington topping the European Order of Merit and we are clearly punching above our weight. Well, except in the International Rules. But that’s another story…
We produce proportionately as many great sportspeople as other countries and maybe more, so why not in soccer? What’s the matter?
Basically, our best are always playing in the English Premiership. So we’re at the mercy of UK clubs. This is not necessarily a good thing.
In rugby the system is dedicated to developing a national team identity, attacking philosophy, defensive system, the lot, and the provinces are the key second tier. So here’s a thought: to develop an Irish soccer side with a realistic chance of replicating the efforts of the rugby team(s), the golfers or the boxers – apart from people getting off their arses and supporting their local clubs, that is – we need to set up the equivalent of the Magner’s League, with the provinces competing against clubs in Scotland, Wales and perhaps the Nordic countries. The FAI mightn’t like it and the English Premiership will always be there, but at least you’d have a new backbone.