UnLaoised

Nonsense from the Irish Midlands

A Nadir Reached

The Irish international football team is a disgrace. They scrambled a last-minute winner tonight against the worst team in Europe, a team that conceded 13 goals against Germany in an earlier round of the qualifiers. This lot couldn't pass water. They couldn't cross a road. They couldn't finish their dinner. Utterly, utterly hopeless.

I only saw the second half, and it was painful to watch (made even more painful by having to watch it on TV3). I switched over for the weather forecast, and as I flicked, I predicted to my wife that San Marino would equalise. When I flicked back a couple of minutes later, the ball was trickling its way into the Irish net.

When Steve Staunton was appointed national coach, my first reaction was puzzlement. Surely the FAI could have gone for someone with a bit of experience, particularly at international level. But I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, and judge him by his results.

And boy, have those results been dismal. Beaten 5-2 by Cyprus, and tonight they were lucky to just beat San Marino.

Irish football is wandering in the wilderness. It's hard to believe that a little over six years ago, ten-man Ireland beat the mighty Netherlands at Lansdowne Road, 1-0.

The FAI will back Staunton until his contract runs out, after which he will be let go. That day cannot come a day too soon. He was the wrong choice and should never have been appointed.

My wife's late uncle John served some time on the Executive Council of the FAI. He was a football man to his bone marrow. This evening my wife turned to me and said: "Poor John is turning in his grave tonight."