Colm O'Regan: A super satisfying result for Irish football, but now we're hungry for stats and analysis
Jayson Molumby runs to celebrate with Troy Parrott after the striker's third goal of the game delivered a precious win for Ireland. Picture: ©INPHO/Ryan Byrne.
You could talk about any number of things from 4ish o’clock last Sunday. You could talk about the penalty in years gone by that we wouldn’t have got and we’d be lamenting it for three generations. Or you could talk about the second goal which was EXACTLY the kind of goal we concede to tricky, nippy foreigners, or the third goal which was like almost every important goal we’ve scored since 1988.
You could talk about the fact that so many of us released 10 years of frustration in a roar. There were probably emotions still stuck somewhere in the gut since covid. in
It was an enema for the soul... but without all the weird water. My children had never heard me roar like that in their lives. (Apart from the primeval howl when Robbie O’Flynn was fouled while trying to equalise against Clare in the 2024 All-Ireland.)
You could talk about how Troy Parrott is simultaneously humble and in touch with his emotions and also a cold-blooded assassin who can kill with three different weapons in 90 minutes. And how his goal celebration means people of every gender will be asking for crop-tops for Christmas.
But one other thing that I'd like to talk about is the absolutely glorious hunger you experience afterwards for Opinions and Statistics. There have been so many times over the last 10 years where you avoid the coverage. We switch off the radio as the smouldering remains are raked for clues as to what went wrong.
But after a match like that, janey, you’d go to an extra Confession to see what the priest thought about Hungary’s time-wasting. You’d go on your local councillor’s Facebook page to exchange comments with the normally irate about how Caoimhín Kelleher’s first touch before the vital punt was key to everything.
You’ll press refresh on your favourite podcast, desperate to hear them to confirm what you know yourself but you just want to hear them say it. It feels good to be agreeing violently with everyone. It’s like a wedding prosecco reception of humanity. Everyone just so pleased.
And statistics. Now that a litany of misery has been broken, I’m looking at that strange Group F table. How we should have never feared Hungary when we beat every other team in the group and they only beat Armenia. How we scored more in the last two games than the previous four.
How all our goals came from strikers, even though we have talked more about our lack of strikers than our lack of a unified island. That is simply not the Irish way. There has to be at least one powerful header from a talismanic defender who may or may not have a bloody bandage around their head.
And of course, I went looking for precedent. But no, we have never had all our goals scored by strikers in the history of the team. Except maybe for the 1966 World Cup where our qualifying group was just us and Spain, because the other team in the group was Syria and they boycotted the group (in solidarity with an African nations boycott over the lack of qualifying places).
Andy McEvoy, a wing-half or inside-forward (an old position that’s now more of a winger), scored but I’m not counting that. But that’s the kind of odd stuff you find when you dive into the past with nerdy joy.
Or we have never beaten two teams placed higher than us in the rankings consecutively. Ever. Or at least according to Wikipedia.
Or it’s the first time anyone has scored a hat-trick away from Dublin.
Let’s assume the March play-off is some sort of travesty or tragedy or general vale of tears. And for now, it’s just time to slide on our backs in our crop-top of happiness.
