World Cup Moments: Quinn & Keane keep Irish eyes smiling in Ibaraki

13/05/10

Ireland’s World Cup campaign of 2002 hardly got off to the most auspicious of starts – the implosion of captain Roy Keane and manager Mick McCarthy’s malfunctioning relationship at their pre-tournament training base in Saipan saw to that.

A simmering row between the Manchester United legend and all things FAI was brought to a white-hot conclusion when Keane launched into a long-suppressed tirade against preparations for the event, which apparently concluded with an ‘invitation’ for McCarthy to “stick it up his bollocks.” It was an incident of such notoriety that the Irish Taioseach, Bertie Ahern, was moved to intervene and Father Ted creator Arthur Matthews later wrote a sell-out stage play – I, Keano – satirising the incident.

It could so easily have been the definitive moment of Ireland’s tournament – one they had qualified for in dramatic fashion, at the expense of the Netherlands and then Iran, in a heated playoff. A disunited and disenfranchised side, without their one true star, could easily have slumped quietly out of the competition at the first stage.

Their opening game against Cameroon, however, offered compelling evidence that the Irish camp had ultimately been united by the pre-tournament dramatics which had threatened to jeopardise their hopes. Matt Holland’s stunning equaliser in Niigata earned a merited point for McCarthy’s men and set up an intriguing second-game encounter with eventual finalists Germany; ruthless 8-0 slayers of Saudi Arabia in their opening match.

It was Ireland's first competitive fixture against the Germans. Rudi Völler’s side may have been humbled by their capitulation to England during qualifying, but, given Ireland’s relatively meagre resources and absent skipper, it was a clear case of snappy underdogs against established World Cup heavyweights.

Oliver Kahn, ultimate winner of the tournament’s Golden Ball, was the larger-than-life captain of a squad incorporating the talents of Michael Ballack, Christoph Metzelder, and an unknown Polish-born forward named Miroslav Klose. To mitigate these talents, lumbering Bayern Munich striker Carsten Jancker was included at the expense of veteran star Oliver Bierhoff. Nonetheless, few expected the Boys in Green to take anything from the game.

There was, therefore, little surprise when Germany took early control thanks to Klose’s fourth goal in two games, following a headed hat-trick against the feeble Saudis. The Kaiserslautern youngster got between Steve Staunton (winning his 100^th cap) and Ian Harte to beat the hopelessly exposed Shay Given with another header in the 19^th minute, and all was going to script.

But Ireland produced several reminders that the German defence could be breached. A Damien Duff run, a Matt Holland shot and an attempted overhead kick by Robbie Keane were reminders that Germany's defence could yet be breached. Duff – so impressive throughout – ran onto Gary Breen's knock-down and seemed certain to score, but the seemingly unbreachable Kahn threw himself in the way of his shot and the ball slipped wide.

Jancker could then have extended Germany's lead and effectively killed Irish interest in the tournament when put clear by Michael Ballack - but put his shot wide of the far post. Klose put a header over the bar when unchallenged.

With only quarter-of-an-hour remaining ageing Sunderland striker Niall Quinn, who’d been deeply embroiled in the media storm surrounding Roy Keane’s departure, was lumped onto the field in place of full-back Gary Kelly. It was a desperate bid to revive Irish fortunes, with dreams of a second round place fading fast. Quinn takes up the story from here in his own words:

“Time is galloping past. You can feel the anxiety. The bench is screaming at us, the crowd are on edge. Tick, tick, tick...

“We’re into injury time. Please let something fall for us. Please. Steve Finnan comes out with the ball, composed and cool. He sends an angled ball towards me. I’ve been through this with Robbie a thousand times on training grounds. He knows where I’m going to put it and he gets there on time. My part is done. It’s all down to the kid now.

“Robbie controls my headed pass exquisitely and the ball is his...he sticks it past Kahn. The net bulges and the response in the ground is electric, deafening. Above us there’s a wild noise, an endless cheer.”

Pubs, clubs, and bars from Dublin to Dubai, from Naas to New York, resonated with a symbiotic uproar and were left stout-spattered by riotously happy Irish folk and their sympathisers. With 91 minutes and 44 seconds on the clock, Leeds United starlet Robbie Keane has become the ice-cool author of one of Irish football’s greatest moments. His ensuing gambol of delight by the corner flag captured a glorious youthful exuberance to be replayed time and time again in TV highlights packages across the globe.

Two weeks and an unfortunate penalty shoot-out exit later, an estimated 100,000 fans welcomed the squad back to Dublin as World Cup heroes.

Henry hands lucky Domenech a late reprieve

Thierry Henry’s outrageous opportunism will dominate the headlines, as is just, but there is plenty more to disseminate from a memorable night in Paris, as Raymond Domenech’s France were fortunate to qualify for the World Cup in controversial circumstances. Still, as will a thousand-and-one other articles on the issue, that’s where we’ll start.

In the immediate aftermath, words such as “robbed” (Sean St Ledger) and “embarrassing” (Kevin Doyle) were bandied about by the bitterly disappointed Irish players of Henry’s conduct. Giovanni Trapattoni cited Italy’s acrimonious elimination from Korea/Japan 2002 as a similar example of an appallingly unjust exit. It’s to be expected; as emotions are running sky-high when such a gleaming prize is at stake.

St Ledger, who expertly herded the razor-sharp Nicolas Anelka throughout, said that the Barcelona forward’s handling of the ball in the setting-up of William Gallas’ deciding goal had “cost a lot of people their dreams” and, unsurprisingly, called for FIFA to introduce video technology to the game immediately. It was, undoubtedly, a horrifically bitter pill to swallow, yet both players freely admitted that any Irish player would consider doing the same if placed in the same position – a stance also backed by ex-international Ronnie Whelan.

Henry’s own guilt – not exactly evident as he wheeled away in delight at his ill-gotten gains – became apparent when ‘comforting’ the indefatigable Richard Dunne at the final whistle. Awkwardly sitting beside, and then embracing the Ireland centre-half (who showed great sportsmanship to accept the gesture in his moment of despair) Henry looked every inch a man who knew of the upcoming repercussions of his actions upon his proud reputation. ‘Titi’ had clearly made a tit of himself.

Of course, this isn’t the first time some top-grade Henry gamesmanship has earned a vital result for his country. In a World Cup last-16 game the valiant challenge of Spain was undermined by a frankly pathetic dive by the striker. All of which makes his self-pitying touchline rant against referees, Barcelona and UEFA (among others) in the aftermath of Arsenal’s 2006 Champions League final defeat seem all the more hypocritical.

For his most recent misdemeanours, there can be no adequate defence. The first contact between ball and hand could barely be avoided, but the second contact was an instance of bare-faced cheating. Nonetheless, it’s already a moment destined for an unsavoury sort of sporting infamy (will ‘Hand of Henry’ soon enter the footballing lexicon?)

So, what of the game itself? Coming, as it did, on the back of France’s successful excursion to Croke Park last weekend, few expected the first 90 minutes in Paris to transpire as it did. Ireland may not have dominated possession as such, but carved out a whole host of chances, which Robbie Keane, Damien Duff and, most particularly, John O’Shea will rue the spurning of for months and years to come.

Trapattoni’s much-maligned ‘static’ midfield performed to the very limit of its supposedly restricted potential. Damien Duff has carried his sparky Fulham form into recent internationals and was responsible for the old boys’ act – with captain Keane – which gave his team a deserved lead late in the first half. Glen Whelan offered his usual unwavering industry until his withdrawal through injury, while his midfield partner, Blackburn’s Keith Andrews, excelled throughout. Liam Lawrence, still very inexperienced at this level, supplied precision delivery from the right flank and kept Patrice Evra largely subdued during a commanding performance. It was almost enough to make the fans forgive and forget the unfathomable omission of Andy Reid. Almost.

Substitute Darren Gibson showed that he remains a little raw, but has immense promise, as recognised by both Trap and his club manager, Sir Alex Ferguson. Birmingham’s Keith Fahey is also a future contender, while Stephen Reid, of Blackburn, will soon return to the fold. Steven Ireland, mercifully, has called time on his shambolic ‘contribution’ to his country. The only black-spot on the horizon is the potential future decline of such stalwarts as Kevin Kilbane, Duff and Keane, as age takes its inevitable toll. Whether or not these great servants to the cause can continue until 2010 will dictate whether or not Ireland can realistically hope to qualify for the next Euros. The qualified success of this past qualifying series will boost their world ranking and, they will hope, ensure a more comfortable ride on the road to Ukraine/Poland (or wherever it may eventually be).

Whatever its dubious genesis, Gallas’ goal takes France to the World Cup, where they will be dangerous dark-horses. Continuously clueless Raymond Domenech lucked-out in reaching the last World Cup final courtesy of Zinedine Zidane’s heroics, and, now that qualification is sealed, might expect to contend once again. Sure, they were spiritless and shapeless at the Stade de France, but any side which – at full strength – can boast a forward line of Ribéry-Anelka-Henry-Benzema is one to be reckoned with. Jérémy Toulalan will also be a welcome returnee, while Domenech should stick to his guns regarding his exclusion of over-the-hill Patrick Vieira. Goalkeeper Hugo Lloris has already proven his worth and is a star of the future.

Only the coach’s typically obscure selection policy (A-P Gignac starting both games despite a lack of recent goals for Toulouse and a horror-showing in Dublin, while Benzema warmed the bench) can prevent a talented team from reaching at least the later stages of a World Cup which will be littered with unlikely outsiders (North Korea, New Zealand, Slovenia, Slovakia, Serbia, Honduras, et al).

Their “very, very lucky” qualification (according to Florent Malouda) will fade from French memories once the great football festival kicks off next summer. Ireland, however, will only have bitter acrimony and the sympathies of football fans around the globe to console them as they consider what might have been had the footballing gods looked more kindly upon them.

Keane’s vitriol earns popularity, not points

It’s been another busy old week or so in the life of Roy Keane. It kicked off in style with a charge of improper conduct by the FA, following Keane’s clash with referee Martin Atkinson and subsequent rubbishing of their increasingly devalued ‘Respect’ campaign.

A string of controversial, headline-grabbing statements have since kept the Sunderland’s manager firmly in the spotlight, even when the performances of his expensively-assembled team have been distinctly average.

And ‘average’ is the word which the driven Corkman detests the most – closely followed by ‘mediocrity’ and then, presumably, ‘discretion’.

In an era of ‘celebrity’ managers – when TV cameras pan straight to the triumphant/red-faced/passive gaffer following a wonder-goal/concession of a last-minute equaliser; compensation fees for managerial ‘transfers’ climb ever higher; and every result (whether positive or negative) is attributed solely to the input of the boss – Roy Keane has become a prime illustration of the trend.

His current club, now swathed in the kind of mediocrity for which he famously admonished it in his book, are rarely, if ever, the main thrust of any major story. Instead it is Keane – and his propensity to start a row with anyone and anything short of the rubber plant on his office desk – that keeps the press corps in clover day-in, day-out.

Following Sunderland’s recent defeat to Stoke City at the Britannia Stadium, Keane damned not only the lame efforts of his players, but also his own “below average” contribution to proceedings. “And I don't want to be average,” seethed Keane.

He continued: “I should have been braver. If you want to be successful there is risk involved. Ultimately I have to be critical of myself and I always am, whether it be team selection, tactics, whatever. The bottom line is that I got it wrong.”

But, as if to prove he’s not all about merciless self-flagellation, Keane reserved his fair share of ire for several other quarters in another well-publicised interview last weekend.

The steely-eyed Irishman has long been renowned for giving the shortest of shrift to – amongst others – corporate sandwich-munchers; incompetent match officials; and, above all; professional football’s contingent of ‘bluffers’ and ‘clowns’ (see Messrs Mick McCarthy and Jack Warner). Oh, and blond, journeyman Norwegian defenders. Never really cared for that particular breed either, come to think of it.

This time round, though, it was the massed ranks of dim-witted TV pundits that Keane laid into with fearsome relish. Prompted by a Sky Sports reporter to add his considerable voice to the tiresome Wenger vs Pulis media knockabout, the Black Cats’ boss instead let rip with a bitter (but entirely agreeable) broadside about the shabby state of sports broadcasting and the all-pervading influence certain quarters of the fourth estate have on the modern game. With glorious predictability, he wasn’t coy in naming names.

“I certainly don't see myself being in management (that long) because of the media side of it, particularly Sky Sports,” Keane said.

“The debate about Arsene Wenger: How crazy is that? What that man's done for the game - and we're giving these people air time. I wouldn't listen to these people in the pub, and yet they're on television constantly, ex-players, ex-referees getting interviewed giving out their opinions.

“Will Arsene Wenger be remembered in 25, 50, 100 years' time for what he has done for football? Bet your life he will. Will any of these people on the television be remembered for what they've achieved? None whatsoever.

“I wouldn't trust these people to walk my dog.”

Keane has it exactly right here – I wouldn’t even leave my pet hamster in the care of the likes of smarmy (yet strangely ubiquitous) Graham Poll or dull-as-ditchwater Nigel Winterburn (freely interchangeable with Merson, Le Saux, Shearer...).

He was far from finished there though:

“I was asked by ITV to do the Celtic-Man U game, but never again unless I fall on hard times. I'd rather go to the dentist.

“You're sitting there with people like Richard Keys and they're trying to sell something that's not there. I tell people any time they watch a game to switch the commentators off, don't listen to experts, gather your own opinion.”

So there’s no denying the malice he bears for the media. Yet, paradoxically, Keane stands in clear danger of becoming the Premier League’s premier rent-a-quote – that’s if he hasn’t already. Ghost-writer of Keane’s revelatory autobiography and one-time Keano confidante, Eamonn Dunphy, recently highlighted this trend. In the absence of the Special One, it seems the ex-Manchester United hardman has assumed the mantle of English football’s antagoniser-in-chief.

He will – privately, of course – have the backing of many other managers for his latest tirade. In fact, Keane is generally well-liked among the fraternity. Not that he cares (or so he’d have you believe).

Old sparring partner Tony Adams even came out before his side’s victory over Sunderland to say that his new-found pal Roy is a “very intelligent, courteous and respectful” man.

Keane took the time to send Adams a congratulatory fax when the ex-Arsenal man was appointed Portsmouth manager last month. It was clearly a much appreciated gesture:

“I thank him for his support” said Adams. “In my experience of Roy he is a fantastic coach, gets involved and has a drive there that I identify with. He wants to do things right and is very determined.”

These are the undeniable qualities Keane shares with – perhaps even derived from – his brilliant mentor, Brian Clough. Like Cloughie before him, Keane knows full well that he’s great value for those – the journalists – he so professes to loathe. It still remains to be seen if Keane will ever come within even a country mile of replicating Ol’ Big Head’s stellar achievements in management. He must be given time, of course.

But it’s a landscape far, far removed from that of Clough’s era – player power, billion-pound telly deals, and an all-consuming sports media are all part and parcel of the crazy, hedonistic swirl of the Premier League today. To progress further in his new career, Keane might occasionally find need to bite his tongue before once more bemoaning the excesses of the modern pro. After all, the grand master of this managerial lark, Fergie, seems to restrain his obvious contempt for the playboy lifestyles of some of his stars, so long as they perform both on the training ground and on the pitch.

Keane will continue to rail against all of the ills in the modern game, of that we can be sure. For us, the fans, there’s plenty of entertainment to be had along the way.

Long term though; can Keano adapt and survive, or will he go muttering bitterly into the night about the ‘good old days’? For long-standing fans of the player, the man and the inimitable persona – a group in which I include myself – we can only hope that the man from Mayfield will grace the nation’s dugouts at least a little while longer.