Mary Hannigan finds out that if Ireland cause an upset this evening, Brazilians everywhere will be go 'nya, nya, nya, nya'

"Estadio Landsdowner Road, em Dublin". Sounds good. Sounds like a stadium fit to host the world champions. Sounds like the name given to the home of Irish rugby (and soccer) by the official Brazilian football association website. Which it was.

Ronaldo Luiz Nazario de Lima, aka Brazil and Real Madrid's goal-machine, emerges from the tunnel at Landsdowner Road, to be greeted by the gathered throng of schoolkids who produce the same decibel level that very probably greets Westlife every time they take to the stage.

He's heard it all before, but he grins that big toothy grin, one radiant enough to suggest that he's never experienced anything like it in his life. A "true pro", they call it.

"Ronaldo? Ronaldooooo? RONALDOOOO?" He hears the screams from the kids in the stand, but politely ignores them. Burly mid-table Spanish centre halves out to make a name for themselves by flattening the World Footballer of the Year are soft touches, autograph book-wielding Dublin kids are, evidently, more daunting.

He speaks to the Brazilian press and then joins his team mates on the pitch.

"Roberto? Robertooo? ROBERTOOO?" Roberto Carlos follows Ronaldo's example: talks to the Brazilian press and takes his leave.

"Ronaldinho? Ronaldinhoooo? RONALDINHOOO?" No joy. The autograph books will remain unsigned.

Time for Kleberson's shift at the edge of the Landsdowner pitch. Phew. Speaks English.

But he's the most quietly-spoken man in world football. What'd he say? "Roy Keane," he's asked.

"Yes, nice man. Great player. He's okay, yes." Very tough on his team mates, have you found that? "Yes. He is the best."

A bit like a manager? "Yes. A big manager." What do you think about Alex Ferguson? A good coach?

"Yes. A very good coach, very good, very good, yes."

He gets you going before games and stuff? The English reporter's question is greeted by a blank expression. "What?"

A good coach? "Yes. A very good coach. Very good, yes."

Thanks Kleberson.

Kaka's turn. He's summoned from the game of piggie-in-the- middle at the centre of the Landsdowner pitch to the touchline for a word, barely able to speak through the cold-induced shivers.

If he returns to Italy with double pneumonia, the FAI could have a hefty compensation demand from AC Milan. (Ah look, that must be a local kiddie doing piggie-in-the-middle. He's tiny, bless him. "That's Juninho." Oh.)

What'd Kaka say?

"Well, he said that, of course, the result matters against Ireland because if Brazil don't win everyone at home will go nya, nya, nya, nya," says the Brazilian reporter-turned-translator.

What does 'nya, nya, nya, nya' mean? "Brazil must win."

Which they did, of course, in the Brazil v Brazil training game on the pitch at Lansdowner. The orange bibs played with a reasonably okayish front line (Kaka playing just off Ronaldo and Ronaldinho, like you do), with Ronaldinho providing all the tricks, every one greeted by a screech of approval from the watching youngsters.

Full time. Pitch invasion. But the three Rs made it back to the dressingroom without scribbling on a single autograph pad. What becomes of the broken-hearted?

They go home with blank autograph books, vowing to become Argentina fans.