There is a good chance that Ireland is a bit of a puzzle to Trapattoni, who has retained a regal detachment throughout his reign, writes KEITH DUGGAN

THE BIG question this morning is whether John Delaney and the FAI have the audacity to sack a manager who has won two games out of three in this World Cup qualifying campaign. As has been his style, the Italian has remained calm in the midst of a concerted round of Chinese whispers emanating from media sources that Trapattoni’s era was over.

The Italian took his team to the wintry outpost of Torshavn and sent out a team which posted a 4-1 win. Trapattoni has always used results to substantiate his methodology and despite everything, his team delivered again last night.

So was the Faroe Islands the swansong for the storied Italian? Can the FAI really justify sacking a man who came within an infamously unjust goal of bringing Ireland to the World Cup in South Africa, who then guided them to Euro 2012 and whose team now stands joint second in this latest campaign? It makes for an interesting few days.

Trapattoni’s often mysterious bursts of English have meant he has remained a largely inscrutable figure. It always seemed a shame he didn’t fully expound on what he thought about Ireland – team and country – in his native tongue.

But then, English might have been a convenient mask behind which to hide – at best, his explanations were surface. While Trapattoni may have toured Ireland on FAI promotional visits, there was little inkling the Italian has ever “got” the country in the same way as Jack Charlton did. The Geordie had an instinctive understanding for what mattered to the Irish and he wooed them with his unwaveringly blunt Northern sensibility. Trapattoni, however, has retained a regal detachment throughout his reign.

There is a good chance Ireland and Irish football is a bit of a puzzle to him. He may wonder how it is that a small, wet country on the edge of Europe with an obscure semi-professional league and a tradition for exporting just enough players to England to make up an international squad can afford to pay him a €1.5 million, one of the highest salaries in the international game.

And he must marvel at the loyalty and passionate expression of the fans, particularly on that night of bathos in Gdansk, when the Irish sang their hearts out in the closing minutes of that 4-0 lesson from the Spanish.

And the other thing Trapattoni has never fully grasped – or bothered with – is the exceptional power of the opinion exerted by the RTÉ panel. After the sad 6-1 loss to Germany last Friday night, Eamon Dunphy’s reversal of opinion of Mick McCarthy was the front page headline on one national newspaper the next morning. The RTÉ view that Trapattoni’s days as Irish manager were numbered seemed to accelerate the general media opinion that this was true.

By yesterday, veiled headlines insinuated the FAI wanted rid of the Italian and RTÉ’s football commentator George Hamilton declared he felt the Trapattoni era was over on the morning news yesterday. It is hard to avoid the conclusion the opinion of Giles/Dunphy sets the tone.

Their influence and, in recent years Liam Brady’s, cannot be overstated. Its origins lie in the World Cups of 1990 and ’94; television events which transfixed the nation and when the half-time and full-time pronouncements of Giles and Dunphy commanded complete silence in bars and homes around the country.

Dunphy was genuinely ecstatic when Trapattoni was appointed in February of 2008 and the honeymoon lasted most of that year. The first signs of the Italian’s deep conservatism were evident during the 0-0 draw against Montenegro that September but while Bill O’Herlihy wondered if the scoreless draw was good enough, Dunphy dismissed the concern. “RTÉ shouldn’t be always knocking the Irish manager. We’ve got one of the best managers in the world, we’re going to South Africa; this project is on track. Relax Bill, we will be doing it from South Africa. Live, Bill. Live”

Just six months later, his disillusionment had set in. Prior to the Italy game, he dissected the selections of Andy Keogh (“ridiculous”), Paul McShane (“bewildering”), Keith Andrews and Glenn Whelan (“liabilities”).

Rarely a game went by since then when Trapattoni’s first XI selection was not a major talking point. For a while, Andy Reid’s banishment became something of a national cause while the Italian’s loyalty to certain players regardless of club form was mystifying. But the results kept coming. Ireland went through the qualifying group for the South Africa World Cup unbeaten in all 10 games and winning four.

Bertie Ahern was among the Irish present on a famous April night in Bari when Robbie Keane thieved a famous goal in the 90th minute to draw 1-1. That was Trapattoni’s night: he threw three men forward – including Caleb Folan – to chase a goal and was rewarded, deepening the reverence in which he is held in Italy. And only a late goal by Alberto Gilardino prevented an Irish win in the return game in Dublin. The difference was that the Italians did not draw twice with Montenegro. But the group at least confirmed Trapattoni had restored organisation and stubbornness and the play-off against the French provided the kind of football theatre which the Irish are suckers for: operatic, heartbreaking and controversial.

The defeat in Paris after Thierry Henry’s notorious handball assist for William Gallas’s goal left the Irish out of the World Cup but firmly back in the position most cherished: darlings of international opinion.

It was hardly noticed, in the deluge of indignation, that Trapattoni retained a magisterial distance from the furore, smiling sagaciously and perhaps interpreting the howls of anguish as further proof that as a football nation, Ireland was just as naïve as he had always suspected.

The sense of injustice was so feverish that then taoiseach Brian Cowen raised the issue with Nicolas Sarkozy, then French premiere, at an EU summit. Minister for sport Martin Cullen wrote to Sepp Blatter to request a replay while Trapattoni told the Irish media the dream of a replay was an “impossible” hope.

The play-off in Euro 2012 against Estonia brought an unexpectedly triumphant end note to a grinding qualifying campaign. The high point of that slog was the miraculous rearguard effort inspired by Richard Dunne and Shay Given, when Ireland held out for a precious 0-0 draw in Moscow.

The wave of free-flowing Russian attacks presaged what would lie ahead for the Irish at the European championships but in the aftermath of qualification, nobody cared. The Boys in Green were back at the party.

That is what the Polish adventure proved to be: a mass drinking binge interrupted by three dismal soccer performances. The hangover had scarcely cleared when the Germans visited last Friday night. Perhaps the most significant observation of that grim night came when Dietmar Hamann was asked about Ireland’s intention to play the ball long. Hamann advised it was probably as wise for the Irish not to try to play too much football: long and direct was the best option.

Hamann’s passing response cut straight to the heart of Trapattoni’s philosophy for his Irish team. The Italian always felt as if he was a supreme tailor working with an ordinary fabric. He couldn’t make an haute couture garment, just a suit of clothes that wouldn’t fall apart.

Trapattoni has never thought his team was particularly good at football and against Germany, sadly, they seemed to prove him right. But if last night proves to be his last as Irish manager, he will walk away with yet another result.