“Ireland haven’t a hope of beating Sweden.”
So, a pretty infuriating conversation went on during the week.
Why? Why don’t Ireland have a hope of beating Sweden?
No, tell me why. Exactly. I want a reason. You’re not letting that one slip under the fence.
For what logical justification do Ireland have no hope of beating Sweden?
We are not in a group of death
Alright, it could’ve been a kinder group. It could have. It could also have been Group C with Poland, Ukraine and Germany. It could even have been Group D with Spain and Croatia again – with added Czechs.
But Ireland haven’t been drawn in any group of death like they were in 2012. Perhaps there’s a case to be made that Martin O’Neill’s side are swirling dangerously in a pot of ill-health but it’s as much of a group of death as Manchester United’s Champions League draw was. The range of standards between the four sides is arguably the smallest in the tournament so it makes for interesting reading.
None of them are unbeatable though. Not by a long shot.
The myth of Belgium
Michael Cox put it perfectly over the weekend when he said that Belgium were less than the sum of their parts.
They have a lot of players that we know. They seem to have been just about to come good for the last 10 years and, still, we are waiting. People say they have disappointed but even that isn’t true. They’ve never once been the force their reputation has somehow commanded so, if anything, their performances are right in line with their standards.
They’re the top-seeded team in the group, they incredulously flirt with the number one spot on the ridiculous world rankings list and they haven’t yet come close to proving that they merit their rep. Or any kind of fear.
Sweden, meanwhile, are just a poor man’s Poland. A beggar’s Poland, if you will, whilst Italy is just the finest example that this group of Ireland’s and the names it possesses are just that – names. Names derived from history and reputation. Not an awful lot of follow-through.
Martin O’Neill is a tournament manager
OK, we’ll probably need a win to guarantee a place in the last 16. Four of the best third-place teams (from the six groups) qualify for the second round and, with one win, you’d nearly already be there.
But this isn’t the Trapattoni era. As it turned out, we had to beat Germany. We did. We had to beat Bosnia. We did. We’ve won games when we had to and, if Ireland beat Sweden on June 13, they could theoretically win the whole thing without winning another game.
The team is more solid – O’Neill teams always are. After 12 competitive games, players know their roles, the side holds its shape, the manager has his control over it. And the Derry man takes his team – because that’s what it is now, his team – to the Euros without the pressure that was weighing down throughout the qualification campaign. Ireland can go, they can be conservative, they can play tight and the country will be behind them every step of the way.
This is Marty Time now.
Players
Ireland will take its best available players to France. That is a given and, whilst it might seem strange, it is a relief.
Stars won’t be left behind because they’re too young or don’t fit the system, O’Neill has a squad full of the nation’s best talent and he intends to use it.
To boast, the surge of fresh faces infesting the first team has completely and uncompromisingly turned over a new leaf for the whole country in just a few months.
At a time where there seemed to be a lost generation of footballers feeling the coldness of the fans’ disconnect, there’s suddenly a team of heroes that are not only identifiable and recognisable, but loved.
Richard Keogh has stormed from the fringes in meteoric fashion. Darren Randolph’s story is endearing. Wes Hoolahan is inspiring a whole generation of young players in record-quick time, Seamus Coleman is hitting the heights expected of him whilst Robbie Brady, Jeff Hendrick, Shane Long and the likes are carving out their own pieces of history as they go.
O’Neill’s greatest success is rescuing this team from a culture of apathy and thrusting them into stardom. He now takes that same team to a major competition with not just support and excitement, but with almost hero-worship behind them.
And it’s about time.
Jon Walters
A cool head, a big heart, an unstoppable engine. A beast in the air, the best at holding the ball up – perhaps anywhere, a measured right foot and a brain to boot. Jon Walters isn’t a cult hero. He’s a hero. And he’s earned that.
Having racked up five goals in 10 qualifying games, having single-handedly allowed Martin O’Neill to transform his team by deploying a diamond formation in attack and a 4-5-1 in defence, having won the hearts of every man, women and dog in Ireland, Jon Walters leads the invasion on France this summer and he does it on the crest of a wave.
He does it with an entire country ready and willing to back him to the hilt. Who said we can’t do this?
I have a six-foot cut of Stoke beef to say otherwise.
