Gilesy’s way has its merits
After these championships, we will hear no more, at least on an official state-sponsored level, from John Giles. We have heard enough, it has been decided.
And yet it is obvious we have still not taken in what Gilesy has been trying to tell us. Still, after all these years, we will not play the game on its merits.
If John Giles was put on this earth to play in the middle of the field, to make himself available to receive the ball; his second calling was to convince us of the truth of this seemingly unlearnable concept.
To somehow get it into our heads if it’s the right thing to do in the first minute, it’s the right thing to do in the 90th minute.
And vice versa. And that if it’s the right thing to do when you’re 1-0 down, it’s the right thing to do when you’re 1-0 up. And indeed if it is 0-0.
Even Gilesy’s methods, his approach to educating us, should have triggered some kind of understanding in this area. As far as Gilesy is concerned, if was the right thing to do to tell us one time, it was the right thing to do to tell us the 1000th time.
And yet, the signs were there against Sweden that it still hasn’t sunk in, that we will work away in the traditional reactionary manner that has made us the draw specialists of major international tournaments. And of qualification too — a study carried out of results between 2002-14 put us top of the pile for draws, just ahead of Israel and Bulgaria.
And since we outdrew those two in qualification for this one, by my calculations we have held onto top spot, that our grip on deadlock remains unbroken.
It is what we know best, holding what we have, what Gilesy once described as “equal steven, George.”
And it has generally been enough for us. Perhaps the most protracted stress-free period in the history of the state came during those heady 20 minutes or so against Holland in 1990, when the on-field truce organised between Ruud Gullit and Mick McCarthy delivered us a precious point ahead of schedule.
We had what we held.
And at our lowest ebb, in 2002, ravaged by civil war and existential angst, we consoled ourselves again in the tender embrace of the score draw. As Niall Quinn recalled, after we pounded Cameroon into parity: “We take 1-1; we settle for that, happily, greeting the final whistle with joy. The party is about to get going.”
It was probably the moment Roy Keane knew he had made all the right calls, that he was as well off out of it.
In all, there have been 10 draws in 20 outings on the big stages, a rate eroded significantly by the 2012 whitewash. This happy knack for stalemate has given rise to the popular anthem ‘You’ll never beat the Irish’, a song which implicitly claims the draw as a profound moral victory.
Long before last year’s referendum, we nurtured this great love affair with equality by finding a different way to the Gilesy way.
You could boil it down to this; at 1-0 down, urgency persuades us to ‘get hold of it’, in the manner Gilesy would advise. While at 1-0 up, we engage in a safety-conscious practice commonly described as ‘helping it on’.
On Monday, at 1-0 up, we mainly helped it on towards Long. Not to Long. Towards. And the natural law of equilibrium did the rest.
Yet there was encouragement.
Not only do we now have a player, in Wes, willing and able to perform extravagant, exotic feats such as dragbacks on the big stage, we could also detect a significant philosophical shift that could fortify us for the tougher tasks ahead.
At 0-0 against Sweden, we played the game as though we were 1-0 down. As though we went into the game believing we could have more than we held. It didn’t last, alas, this trust in doing the right things. We couldn’t maintain it under the duress of 1-0 up. But it was progress, all the same.
Maybe the presence of Roy Keane among them had something to do with it. But you’d like to give some credit to Gilesy, before he finishes up.
Time to raise expectations on the clickbaiting boys in green
There may be a deeper psychological reason for our draw specialism. Something more fundamental than James McCarthy not making himself available to receive the ball.
The one thing we can always be relied upon to provide, when the big tournaments come round, is a dexterous reach for patting ourselves on the back in recognition of what gas characters we are.
This tendency was always there but has recently been industrialised and commercialised. And so we are in the middle of an Arthur’s Fortnight.
Judging by the online action, future tournaments may see the football journalists left at home altogether to free up resources to scour Facebook for videos of Irish fans having great craic.
Forget McGregor v Mayweather, we may soon see a clickbait unification bout between McGregor and an Irish fan enjoying himself.
Indeed, ever since the video was found of Irish fans changing a local’s tyre in Paris, we have moved beyond celebration of ourselves and onto canonisation of anyone seen not to have disgraced us.
So, as competition for clicks heightens, and the bar lowers daily, the pestering of an elderly nun on a French train becomes a mightily impressive study in international relations, and a magnificent triumph in the arena of the bantz.
Not everyone is on board. In one heated online debate on this matter, I saw our neediness in these things compared to what Chris Rock famously described as “low expectation having”.
In his great controversial routine that took aim at an attitude he had detected in certain black men, Rock was sick of lads wanting credit for “shit they supposed to do”.
“‘I take care of my kids.’ You’re supposed to, you dumb motherf*****.
“‘I ain’t ever been to jail.’ You’re not supposed to go to jail, you low-expectation-having motherf*****.”
It’s a trait we could attribute to men of all races, not least ourselves.
And when expectations are so low that lads are celebrated for not wrecking the continent, how could we blame the boys on the field for occasionally lowering their sights and settling for a point?
Heroes & Villains
Doing nothing on the pitch, but reviving interest in footballers on Twitter with his post-match pops.
Stay true to yourself, handsome.
Particularly sluggish with their action replays.
How dare dishonesty visit the most honest pro of them all.
