Just the man to get us out of a hole

Giovanni Trapattoni: a solid start by the Italian coach.

I HAVE a terrible feeling that I might have left something behind me in Podgorica. Specifically, a man trapped underground.

By way of explanation, I should say the capital of Montenegro is something of a work in progress. Ireland’s base for the game against Montenegro is a buzzing, eccentric little place, full of trendy young things who swarm around the cafes and bars on super-heated nights such as we experienced during our short stay there last week.

But while a couple of flash hotels have gone up and the pedestrianised area around the central square has clearly undergone a costly renovation, the rest of the place is still in awkward transition from old communist provincial town it once was to tiny international capital it has become.

That much is especially evident on the outskirts which have a vaguely dilapidated feel, with much unfinished building work and an ancient network of broken paving made all the more tricky to negotiate by the dim streetlighting.

Returning to the media hotel one evening, I almost literally stumbled upon a manhole, the cover of which had been partially removed to create a most dangerous trap for the unwary. Conscious some of my own colleagues would be returning to base somewhat later that night, possibly even a bit dazed by their customary hours of research in the local library, I made a point of kicking the thing back into place, which it did with a satisfying clang. My selfless, humanitarian work done for another day, I then retired to bed to sleep the sleep of the just.

It was only when we were en route back to Dublin a colleague sowed a seed of nagging doubt in my mind. His question was simple. “How’d you know there wasn’t somebody working down there?” he asked.

Which is why my uneasy sleep is now haunted by terrible images of some poor bloke in overalls trapped far underground in the Balkans, his faint tapping and increasingly plaintive cries for help drowned out by the passing traffic.

Or worse, what if he’d actually fallen in before I happened along and was in too weak or injured a state to draw attention to himself?

I imagine him curled up in the foetal position in a confined space at the bottom of the narrow shaft, his only spiritual sustenance the small circle of moonlight way above him like a shining symbol of hope — until that is, a helpful Irish football hack ambles along and, with a hefty kick, promptly consigns him to the eternal blackness.

Ah well, mustn’t dwell on the negative stuff. For, apart from the possibility that I may have buried a man alive, it has to be said that our seven-day excursion to Mainz and Podgorica was a most enjoyable one, from the hilarity of Trap falling off his seat and the attendant Mushroomgate saga to the actual performances on the fields of play which, although yielding only four of the hoped-for six points, saw everyone flying home in the middle of the night on Wednesday with the rare enough feeling for an Irish away trip of a decent mission accomplished.

Then, as a memorable coda, I was fortunate to witness a chance encounter between Jack Charlton and Giovanni Trapattoni at the Clarion Airport Hotel the following afternoon. The new manager rose to his feet with a beaming smile at the sight of the former boss approaching him, and the warm handshakes and exchange which ensued made clear that it was an enjoyable experience for both men.

Some 22 years have elapsed since Big Jack walked through the revolving door of that hotel and proceeded to revolutionise Irish football but, watching the team’s performance under Il Trap, there are times when you could be forgiven for thinking that not a whole lot has changed.

This is especially true when Ireland don’t have the ball, as the case for much of a sometimes torrid first half against the strikers of Montenegro, a team whose flowing football made a mockery of their lowly FIFA seeding.

Hence, the value of the eventual one point in lieu of the ideal three and, in the process of securing that draw, the bonus of seeing how much better the boys in white got to grips with tricky opponents and difficult conditions in an impressive second period.

Like Ireland under Jack, Ireland under Trap are supremely well-organised and hard-working when the opposition are in possession, squeezing the space and pressurising their opposite numbers all around the pitch, in a classic demonstration of defending from the front. Where things depart totally from the gospel according to Jack is when Ireland have the ball.

The old ‘route one’ caricature doesn’t do justice to some of the really fine performances under Charlton but there can be no denying the fact that his preference was for the path of least resistance. Hence, the familiar long kick-outs from Packie Bonner — virtually Ireland’s playmaker under Charlton — which demanded that the midfield play off the strikers in the final third rather than taking the ball from their own defence. Contrast that with Ireland against Georgia where Steven Reid repeatedly dropped back to collect the ball from defence, as the team looked to build from inside their own half. And, again, in Trapattoni’s slow-slow-quick approach, the Irish are encouraged to concentrate on retaining possession, even if means the back four caressing the ball amongst themselves or knocking it back and forth to the midfield. Be sure that to Jack, in his own parlance, such play would have constituted the sin of “fannying about”.

You could see that the Trap effect is already having a positive impact on a team which seems more solid and settled. Reborn as a commanding presence in midfield, Steven Reid has been the great discovery of the new era — if such a phrase is appropriate for a comparative veteran — while John O’Shea grows in confidence with every outing.

There are still areas of concern. Aiden McGeady and Stephen Hunt both put in a productive 90 minutes in the heat of Podgorica — except that by far their best work was done in tracking back to help out the defence. By contrast, as sources of attacking creativity, they were intermittently successful at best, a state of affairs which shows how vital for Ireland it is Damien Duff regain his fitness and form for the games ahead.

And as long as Ireland continue to labour to supply a reliable service for the strikers, the issue of Andy Reid simply won’t go away. Trapattoni’s reluctance to change his side and risk losing a point in Montenegro was understandable but, had he been introduced as a substitute, it’s not unreasonable to think that Reid’s passing ability, top-notch delivery and dead-ball expertise might equally have meant the difference between a draw and a win.

But, overall, Trapattoni’s Ireland have come well out of their first competitive tests, offering plenty of reasons to feel optimistic about the road ahead. And while the manager likes to say that his team lacks superstars of global dimensions, his reference to Gigi Buffon after the game against Montenegro suggests that in Shay Given, at least, he knows he can call on someone to compare with the very best in the world.

After Montenegro, and not for the first time, one is moved to ponder that in such tightly balanced games, where the line between success and failure can be so fine, Given is just the man to get you out of a hole.

Pity I didn’t think of that while I was still in Podgorica though, eh?