Paul Rouse: The most gutting feeling in sport is when opportunity slips away
Ireland’s Seamus Coleman dejected after the playoff defeat. Pic ©INPHO/Ryan Byrne
Twice Ireland put themselves in the box seat in Prague; twice they got dislodged. When you lead a game 2-0 and then are ahead again after three penalties are taken in a shootout, it is legitimate to expect to win.
And inevitable then after a cruel twist of the knife to feel in defeat that this was one that got away.
It is perhaps the most gutting feeling in sport. That lurch of the stomach that signifies a true sickener, a winnable once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that slips off into the night. The tears on the pitch after the game will have stung all the more after victory had been almost within their grasp.
It never felt as if this match was under control, however. The teams were too well matched for any comfort, each with their own spells of dominance, mixed in with spells of frenetic pinball around the field.
It is no matter of controversy to say that the game was not a classic. There was neither time nor space. The result was an absence of elegance and innovation.
There were moments of quality, too, not least the shot from Jason Molumby that hit the post and Ireland also managed to string together occasional passages of play which usually featured the electric Chiedozie Ogbene.
Ultimately, though, Ogbene could not connect with Troy Parrott, who was worn down by a physical Czechia defence to the extent that he looked shattered by the 70th minute.
The brutal truth is that Ireland did not have the bench to exploit Czechia when they were there for the taking. The loss of Ferguson and Cullen weakened the team and stripped the bench of its potency.
In the second half, the team struggled from the changes that were made and not made.
And ultimately that left them vulnerable to the late concession.
It is true that the decision to award the free-kick in the corner from which the equaliser followed was a pathetic one, but it is also true that the defending was poor.
And there is no denying that the Irish penalty was also a soft one, while the second Irish goal was slapstick – one of the most amusing own goals of recent times.
The penalty that Ireland conceded was a bad mistake, too. It gave a break at precisely the wrong time to a team that looked as if it was on the verge of collapse.
The second half was much more of a struggle than the first. For long stretches it was possible to dream that they would hold out. There was no absence of commitment, no lack of desire.
And in Dara O’Shea and Nathan Collins in defence, and Jason Molumby in midfield there were players who were outstanding in their defensive diligence.
The echoing chant of ‘Ooh aah, Paul McGrath’ as the team struggled to hold onto their lead late in the game was a forlorn attempt by the supporters to rally the players.
It was a throwback to the Giants Stadium in 1994 when McGrath led a defensive effort which brought the greatest Irish international victory in history: a 1-0 victory over Italy in the first round of the World Cup.
Much of the hope and joy of the last few months lay in the dream that a new generation would get to witness their own epic, unerasable memories. They had got two already with the victories over Portugal and Hungary.
Nothing can take away from the glory of those wins: the melting of Ronaldo and the Parrott hat-trick. But that glory would have been truly enhanced if they had been followed by two more great nights and qualification for the World Cup.
That’s the worst of it. The prospect of facing Denmark with the prize of an early summer expedition to Mexico would have filled the country with immense excitement and joy. Against the backdrop of fear and loathing that has convulsed the world, this was a rare chance to be positive without restraint or equivocation.
Instead, what follows now is a friendly against North Macedonia next Tuesday night. It is not a sentence that might set the pulse racing at the best of times. In the circumstances, it is just bleak.
While it may be said that it is always an honour to represent your country, there cannot be a single player who wants to play in that game.
It is true that there are grounds for hope, that the team has remade a connection with the public that had been frayed or torn. It is a very long time since any Irish soccer match has been so much the centre of everyday conversation. Perhaps a little bit of time will allow that hope to flower into a determination to make it to the 2030 Final. Those will be shared by Spain, Portugal and Morocco. There would be worse places to spend five weeks.
That’s for the future.
As for now: Paradise has been lost.
