Julie Jay: Ireland may not have got to the World Cup but we’re still having fun

Hydration breaks, professional rivalries and penalty shoot-outs have all meant we’ve enjoyed the tournament despite the only tri-colours being the Ivory Coast

Even though the Boys in Green failed to make the cut, my family is still loving watching the event. Picture: iStock

There is something wonderfully infectious about a World Cup that raises the spirits, even when the Irish team fail to qualify.

Given that we rarely make the cut, Irish fans have learned to enjoy a tournament that, much like space travel, is something most of us will never be in a position to experience firsthand.

Instead, we will have to make do with watching from afar and telling ourselves that, with Ivory Coast qualifying, the Irish flag made it to the final 32 in the world. Indeed, my eldest took some initial convincing that the boys in green hadn’t made it to LA when he saw a stadium littered with tricolours that looked remarkably like ours, but once the same team started winning matches, he accepted that this most definitely wasn’t us.

I have been pleasantly surprised by how easily my kids have been convinced to throw on the football, though perhaps some of their amenability stems from the fact that the cartoons are off come 7pm, so it’s either watch high-level international soccer or somebody combining crocheting with watercolours over on Nationwide.

In a bid to get the kids into it, I’ve been letting them pick their team and my team, which, if we’ve missed the start of the match, has somehow resulted in my five-year-old always getting dibs on the team with more goals. As the eternal underdog, Mammy is well used to starting on the back foot, but now we’re three weeks in, it’s starting to feel a little unfair.

However, to quote my five-year-old, “Mother, such is the arbitrary nature of sport. Now, can you please top up my Pimm’s?”

As a baby born in the early ’80s, I have such wonderful memories of the magic that was Italia ’90. I know the nostalgia has been done to death this summer, with many pundits recalling a seminal time in Irish sport, but its importance cannot be overstated.

Republic of Ireland fans before the FIFA World Cup European Qualifying match in Lisbon. Picture: James Warwick

When Jack Charlton’s men made it to Italy, it was the first time my mother cooked lasagna, and I can also remember it as the first time my dad cried. It had less to do with the emotion of Packie Bonner saving a goal against Romania and more to do with him not liking lasagna (he was more of a meat-and-potatoes man).

So of course it’s different this time round — our emotional investment just isn’t the same, but still we can enjoy it much in the same way that I can enjoy a CMAT concert while knowing the odds of me ever selling out St Anne’s Park are slim, slimmer again if it involves me doing a rendition of Nothing Compares 2 U.

Of course, I am only delira the boys have been enjoying the World Cup, with Number One happily picking a side in the long-running rivalry between Messi and Ronaldo.

He insists that Ronaldo, or Moraldo as he mistakenly calls him, is the best footballer in the world, basing this on nothing other than the kids in the playground categorically saying so.

I don’t want to dispute the expertise of a senior infant, but I do feel the people of Argentina might disagree. Given it’s more likely we might be holidaying in the Algarve than Patagonia, I will keep my opinion to myself.

Together as a family, we are gradually getting to grips with the offside rule. I’m making steady progress, but I don’t think RTÉ’s Darragh Maloney needs to fret about me coming for his commentator crown just yet. If for no other reason than there’s not a hope I could get a babysitter every night between now and July 19.

Darragh, Ian Wright, and my old mentor/father figure, Roy Keane, can collectively sleep easy.

Penalty shoot-outs have been a source of real excitement, with my husband encouraging Number One and Number Two to watch and “get some tips”. The main tip for penalties we’ve picked up so far seems to be to kick the ball in the direction of the net. Admittedly, a lot of the less successful teams have been kicking the ball in other directions, so perhaps I’ve got that one a bit skewed.

Julie Jay: The World Cup has my kids playing more football in the garden. Picture: iStock

But overall, the World Cup has definitely inspired a bit more football action in the garden, which has so far been tricky, given we haven’t got any grass yet.

Yes, I’m sure it was tricky for players to play in the Qatar sun four years ago, but try playing on pebbles and let’s see how good Moraldo is then.

If nothing else, the World Cup has been an excuse for an extended bedtime, though I draw the line at staying up past midnight and watching Paraguay beat Germany, despite many members of our family doing exactly that (our cousin Danny was a missionary in Paraguay for many years, and as a result my auntie has decided to back the South American country to go all the way, referring to them fondly as “our cousins”).

Even if the World Cup hasn’t inspired a future Messi or Ronaldo in our household, it has certainly given rise to more hydration breaks, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. Though I didn’t start drinking water until about three years ago (previously, I was convinced H20 was a drug), I have been motivated by the repeated hydration breaks during matches to start knocking back pints of the sparkling stuff with more regularity.

So World Cup 2026 may not have given us an opportunity to see the boys in green take the USA by storm, but at least it’s upped our aqua intake, and my pores have definitely tightened as a result.

Personally, I’d take glowing skin over a trophy any day of the week — if somebody wouldn’t mind telling Moraldo.