Ireland don’t win big games.
No-one’s expecting us to beat Germany.
No-one’s expecting anything.
The Republic have wrestled with a number of beasts in the past and they’ve generally given a decent account of themselves. But we celebrated draws because there was honour to be taken in coming back unbowed from war against a bigger, better army.
You only have to glance over the last 30 years of the country’s history to see that winning these types of battles is not even a thing out of the ordinary. It’s more extraordinary than that.
14 years ago, Ireland beat Holland.
12 years before that in 1989, a decent – but by no means world-beating – Spanish team were scalped by Jack Charlton.
Twice in the last 30 years, a result – a genuine, competitive result – stands out in Ireland’s records. Twice.
And we’re not a demanding nation. No-one expects managers to turn around and deliver these kind of upsets. We don’t expect Irish teams to turn over the best in the world willy-nilly. We don’t expect anything.
But, somewhere along the way, international bosses on Landsdowne Road have stopped using that to their advantage.
Dublin used to be a place that countries really feared. It used to be a city-wide fortress where anyone – even the best of them – could be given a rattle if the leader was ballsy enough.
Instead, the last time the Germans came here, they strolled through a 90-minute non-event and stroked in six past a limp Irish side with no message of defiance that would’ve gotten the once famous Dublin roar pushing behind them.
There are two games left in the qualifying groups for Euro 2016. It’s all in Ireland’s hands even with a game to spare.
If we win both of our matches – we qualify automatically. If we lose against the world champions, we’re still in third place.
Tonight, there is nothing to lose. And, tonight, nothing is expected of us.
Martin O’Neill shouldn’t be going into this game with any kind of reservations because the whole nation – and a decade of mediocrity – has all that play-it-down work done for him. No-one has any ideas above their stations and none of us are getting carried away with the notion that Ireland could – never mind should – actually beat Germany.
In fact, all that is happening is that we’re waiting for Sunday and keeping an eye in Scotland.
The whole country is looking on at another game to see if Poland win and guarantee us a play-off or if Scotland do something and we’ll have to sort it ourselves at the end of the weekend.
This game against the best team on the planet has long been written off ever since the Germans decided to get their act together after their World Cup hangover. We’re expecting to lose and, better still, we’re accepting a loss.
So what the hell would we be scared of?
The worst has already happened under Trapattoni. The necessary can wait until Sunday. The expectation has long since been beaten out of the country.
For all intents and purposes, this game against Germany is a bonus. It is a free hit to approach it however we so please because nobody expects anything other than a loss. And a handsome one at that.
We could set up tight, defend deep, hope for a draw and probably still lose anyway.
Or we could go for it. We could take it as the bonus that it is and damn well give it a go. In Dublin. In our last game at home. In what could be the defining moment of Martin O’Neill’s career.
The manager has a free hit to make history. If he fails, so what? No-one expected any better anyway. If he succeeds, Jesus he could reinvent himself and this nation.
Something simple like maintaining his diamond formation, that would show that he finally has his stamp on this team. And it would show that he won’t fear the Germans, but that he’ll stick to his own game plan.
We could push up on them, get in their faces, and when we do have the ball, then we’d have two strikers and a number 10 in Wes Hoolahan to go after them.
The crowd would roar, Joachim Low wouldn’t expect it – no-one would.
We might go down – we probably will – but at least we’d go down swinging.
At least we’d have used our bonus game and at least we’d come away knowing that we gave it a go. A proper one. But not just this game – history. We went to the Aviva and tried to change the record books. The same books that have been gathering dust recently. And that it was Martin O’Neill who led us there.
The alternative is to just fall on our swords and accept second best. Fourth best even.
Everyone’s expecting that. So why not just give this a rattle? If we fail, we fail. No-one’s predicting any differently anyway.
