Listen, it’s always better to be there than not. In amongst the top 16 of the continent, while many larger nations; many nations where football is the undisputed major field sport; and nations with a deeper footballing culture, miss out entirely. We stumbled into this tournament without one decent performance in qualifying – Ireland were not good in Moscow. Richard Dunne was, and we survived an absolute annihilation. We were gifted the woeful Estonia in the play-off who made it even easier by getting a red card in the first leg, in which we strolled to a 4-0 away victory. We paid more attention to the paper planes in the 2nd leg in Lansdowne, as a very mild party unfolded. We were there. For the first time in 10 years, we had qualified. Having been robbed 2 years previously, it was felt we deserved this one. And you never know what might happen over there…
This time the draw was cruel. 3 countries from the FIFA top ten. In any scenario where your best bet is a result against Croatia, you’re fucked. And nothing in the qualifying campaign or the build-up; the squad selection; the friendlies; the interactions with the media, nothing gave us confidence. And we were right. So unlike the previous reviews of Ireland’s performances in major tournaments, I’m just going to put up my holiday snaps from the fortnight in Poland instead. Much better. We were dirt on the field, absolute dirt, but all of us who travelled took back great memories of Poland. And it’s not a case of “win or lose, we’re here for the booze”. There were moments of real anger and real frustration from the terraces. We were, to a man and woman, disgusted with what we saw, or did not see. We saw no cohesion; no effort to get back into a game; no leadership; no guts; no willingness to change from Trappatoni – exemplified by his choice of a first XI that had just conceded 7 goals in 2 games for the last game; and we saw no hope. No hope for the next campaign. Trap was finished as Irish manager by half-time in the Spanish game. That we stumbled on after Poland with him in charge into a disgraceful humiliation at home to the Germans the following Autumn was a dreadful reflection on all involved.
But for those who were there, these may bring back some of the good times. For those who weren’t, maybe they’ll show why we still, to an extent, speak fondly of this trip.
Before packing:
Town Square in Poznan the day before we kicked off:
Before the Croatia game “Muintir na hÉireann, Táimid i nGrá Libh”:
On tram to the ground:
2012 – Ireland in the middle of the bailout:
One of the more memorable flags of the time. Perhaps one with Shane Long mooning her would reflect the more recent footballing relationship between our 2 countries…
Class.
Sopot the night before the Spanish game. Irish team hotel about 200 yards away to the left…
Manolo. Gdansk…
Crackin’ t-shirt
Iker Casillas vs Ireland. Yep. 90 minutes of this…
Gdansk shipyards. Where Polish communism started to truly fall apart. The site now of a great museum dedicated to the struggle across Poland.
Hope in advance of the Spanish onslaught…
That’s my mate Bryan. You might remember this photo from the other side.
Newspaper in Poznan the day I left Poland.
No one went to Poland for a holiday. We went for the football. As such, we were not satisfied just with being there. We had to perform. And we were awful. The dreadful mantra that “we didn’t have the players” grew up based to a great degree on this tournament and on the performances and results from 2010 to 2013 generally. It was bullshit. Absolute bullshit. And we’ve proven that wrong on a few occasions since, admittedly not throughout the whole campaign. Now we can prove it in a tournament.
Bring it on!!!
A Yard of Grass 