Eternal optimists sucked back in

When it comes to sports in this country, we are nothing if not hopeless optimists. With every new year comes a fresh wave of enthusiasm for our national rugby side, with talk of corners being duly turned and new dawns on the verge of presenting themselves.

Inevitably, by March, such innocent expectation has given way to a mood of glum betrayal and air time is filled with resigned admissions relating to gulfs in class and basic handling errors.

Ireland's World Cup thus far has been like a Five Nations season in microcosm, with the country experiencing wildly conflicting emotions due to the mishaps of our 15 heroes. The Ireland-Australia game was poor enough to merit a debate as to whether the very concept of rugby ought to be erased from society.

On RTE, George Hook scowled and sighed for Ireland while Tom McGurk was clearly near breaking point. We were told that it cost £6 million a year to send out a team which conspired to produce a single penalty score in 80 minutes of play. There was a feeling the management ought to be hauled up before a tribunal to account for the funds.

If the England squad did to their fanbase what the Irish do here, the Labour government would probably crash. In Ireland, we have grown accustomed to the dubious pleasures of loyally following a team without really knowing if they are any good at the game. It was no surprise, therefore, that they did precisely enough to suck us all back in on Friday evening. From tv land, superlatives lit the air like Junebugs. Eric Elwood was the star turn against Romania, a "revelation", according to George Hamilton, who observed that he was "dispatching with aplomb". When George has reason to notice anything being done with aplomb, it generally means a happy day for Irish sport.

Tony Ward declared that Elwood's performance was of the magnitude to "cause problems selectorially". Our sense of importance inflated with the very weight of the words.

Back in studio, the boys were skittish with happiness. Tom McGurk playfully referred to George as Dr Hook, a pun that prompted prolonged hoots all round, and the good Doctor, with a gravitas which complemented his profession, told Ireland that Eric Elwood was the "best re-starter in the world".

It must be weird being the best in the world at anything, and walking around knowing you restart rugby matches better than any other human must be a bit disturbing.

Sure, a few references to the awfulness of the Romanians were aired, but only as an afterthought. We were so absorbed by ourselves that when Dion O'Cuinnegan dragged himself off with a pronounced limp, George (Hamilton, not the Doc) was given to opine that it "looks as if he has an arm injury".

But the basic message was that the show was back on the road. In terms of Irish soccer, this week married past with present. Big Jack Charlton popped up on Football Focus to finance the purchase of a few more fishing rods. Despite the revisionism on the merits of Big Jack, it is hard not to feel a bit wistful when you see him now.

That booming, no-nonsense voice serves as a throwback to good times in Irish sport. Jack felt that Ireland would beat Turkey and, although he didn't forward any solid reasons as to why this would happen, you still believed him.

The prospect of England and Scotland was also pondered upon by Jack, but it was Paul Gascoigne who made the most pertinent observations on that particular match.

"You can't say England will definitely win," Gazza pointed out, adding, "without doubt, definitely."

That analysis was part of an indepth interview which revealed a wiser and more mature Gascoigne. He was only too ready to agree that his story was an apt cautionary tale for the younger stars of the Premiership, that he was a classic example of how not to go about living.

"I'm all right now. Playin' golf, snooker. Me 'eads ok," he confirmed, before allowing that "you don't do the things I've done 'cos you will get hammered." The choice of words was so unfortunate as to be poignant.

On The Soccer Show, though, one of Charlton's meaner moments was recalled during an interview with Liam Touhy. "Rasher" Touhy, it might be remembered, took charge of the Irish Youth team in the early Eighties with spectacular success, guiding them to the finals of four major tournaments.

Charlton, though, humiliated the manager by barging into the dressing-room at half-time during a game and taking over the team talk. Touhy resigned and Charlton's cronies picked up the reins. Ireland's record at youth level nose dived.

Even now, there is a trace of anger in Touhy's voice when he speaks about the episode - which was drowned in the wave of euphoria when Ireland improbably qualified for the 1988 European championships.

Touhy remains one of the classic unsung heroes, still coaching youngsters, still in love with soccer. The tail end of The Soccer Show feature depicted him doing just that. It was a scene common all over Ireland; a middle aged man trying to impose order on youthful chaos.

"Mickey," he yells exasperatedly at one fledgling star. "Who have you ever seen playing football carrying a jacket in their hand?"

Mickey said nothing. With aplomb.