Yesterday's draw was a great result but there's still no guarantee that Ireland will qualify. Paul Cullen engages in a bout of 'what-iffery' and worries that a squad still deprived of Roy Keane could turn out to be no more than a Flash in Japan
So it came down to Keane after all - Robbie, of course, but who's being picky when you're one-nil down in the 92nd minute? A flick-on from old stager Niall Quinn, a scooped shot from the young forward that cracked off the German goalkeeper's legs and his goalpost before hitting the net - how narrow the margins between success and failure! - and Ireland were level.
Goaaaaaaaaaal! A nation punched the air, slapped the sofa, hugged its neighbour, spilled its pint. Once again, the Irish soccer team had rewritten the script at the last moment. Once again, they had fashioned victory out of a score-draw.
Full time, and amid the euphoria there is confusion. We've come back before, but never left it so late. Not so long ago, we made a habit of losing games in the last minutes.
Besides, the dour, dull, efficient Germans weren't supposed to lose the plot like this. Luck and good goalkeeping seemed to be on their side.
The obituaries had already been written. Even Eamon Dunphy seemed temporarily speechless.
But a moment of magic can change all this. Can leave us with silly, giddy smiles all afternoon.
Can make the heart race and dreams take flight. The Germans took off their number 19, put on their number 16 and suddenly they had a Rising on their hands.
Remember Stuttgart in 1988, Genoa in 1990. Now add Ibaraki to that roll-call of travel destinations. Half way around the world and still a field of dreams, a field of green. Long-haul fans and the Pacific diaspora joined in song and a gigantic group hug.
This is joy made unconfined by the long faces of the German fans, outnumbered, outsung and, at the last gasp, outgunned. But before you start enjoying their disappointment, remember the Germans coined the word for this feeling: Schadenfreude.
Yet we still aren't sure. Our cup runneth over, yet it's only half full. Or even half empty. Two points from two games, and qualification from the group is far from certain. Don't order the open-top buses just yet.
Surely Saudi Arabia can't be rolled over as easily as they were by the Germans. Remember how we tripped up against Egypt in Italia '90, and Mexico in the 1994 World Cup. Remember how we were unbeaten in normal time in our first World Cup appearance, yet failed equally to win any match in the regulation 90 minutes.
So our fate may yet rest with the footballers of the Cameroon and Germany. It could go down to goal difference, goals scored, maybe even the toss of a coin. No-one could accuse us of making it easy.
You could see the uncertainty on the streets of Dublin as the green shirts spilled out into the afternoon sunshine.
After we beat Romania in 1990, the cars honked their way up Grafton Street and the fans danced in the Floozie in the Jacuzzi. Yesterday, the Floozie was gone and the few car-borne revellers got snarled up in traffic.
All the time, there's that nagging feeling. Two one-all "victories" against underwhelming opposition, two matches we could have won. Have we lowered the bar of our expectations to suit our current circumstances, sans Roy? Are we papering over the cracks so we can ride the wave of euphoria? And what a waste of human talent to see Roy Keane sitting in Cork while the rest of the team were straining every sinew in Japan. "What-iffery" is dangerous, but Keane would undoubtedly have made a positive difference, particularly in yesterday's match.
Even at this late stage, Ireland's interests would be best served by Keane returning to the squad. That would require magnanimity from Mick McCarthy, acceptance from the players and an apology from the Corkman. People might say this is an impossibility, but then unpredictability has been the hallmark of this affair.
We know we are Big in Japan; what Keane could help us show now is that we're not a Flash in Japan.