Trap's solo show helps atone for the tedium

IN THESE hairshirt days when even the great boulevardier O’Donoghue is cruelly curtailed (it would just be good to know he was out there somewhere raising a glass to us) the best we can hope for in terms of luxury is a meaningless World Cup qualifying match, an evening of extempore magic where our heroes, freed from the inhuman pressures they live under day by day, cut loose and show us the silky skills which put the daily ciabatta on their table.

Ah, they weren’t in the mood bless them. One hundred caps for Shay Given and Kevin Kilbane and the landmark passed in the most sober of circumstances at Croke Park. In the press box we got through the first half lazily noting the precise time of Richard Dunne’s header when it slapped against the crossbar and not sullying the page any further.

Finding nothing else to write about we fell to daydreaming about the Wildean qualities of the spat between Eamon Dunphy and Stephen Hunt.

– You Sir, are a malnourished rodent of minor consequence . . .

– People who know the game, Sir, people who truly love rodents, those people are hurting tonight.

The second half crept up on us quicker than Eamo might scuttle up the inside of a drainpipe in the event of seeing a cat.

The second half was groundbreaking in its tedium and the crowd made their own entertainment singing and making ‘Mexican waves’ during which the performance of the press box was shameful. You try coming up with 850 words of colour on a meaningless 0-0 draw against Montenegro then.

Giovanni, despite his assertion on Saturday that with silk you make a tie but with cotton you can make a shirt, is a man who doesn’t feel that a nice silk tie would go well with a shirt. So it goes without saying there was no Andy Reid and no abandon. All method, no madness – apart that is from some of the defending, for example the inventive reflex save with which Paul McShane stopped a likely Montenegrin goal.

It was to Giovanni that we turned afterwards, imploring him to shed some colour on our prose. His side may have the numbing qualities of a general anaesthetic but the man himself is always good value.

He came to us natty as ever throwing shapes as he enters the press room with his entourage following: “Good evening, good evening” he says, “this evening is as I said three days before. There is the performance, there is the result and there is the table. I hoped we would have a victory against Italy. I hope we would have a victory tonight.

“Our performance in the first half was a very very great performance. We just had to score a goal. We drew the game but after 90 minutes if a team must win I think that team was Ireland.”

Hmm. We look at Giovanni doubtfully. Tell us more . . .

“I thought also that 12 months ago if we already had this group, these players it would be different. With this result we finished the group unbeaten. This must give us more belief in our mentality, our performances, our scheme and our play. There are beautiful games and not beautiful games.

“It is not about being happy about other people’s misfortunes but ourselves – we don’t always play well. In the play-offs we can progress. We should not worry about the name of the team we are playing.”

So, is an improvement needed to beat a strong team in the play-offs?

“I said to everyone after the game. Today Italy scored two goals . They have five or six strikers. Seven maybe. I play Robbie Keane and Kevin Doyle. We are Ireland. We have this group of players and we pray they don’t get injured or I will play you and play you or you” – pointing at us tubbos in the press seats). Point taken.

“And”, said a forlorn Montenegrin journalist, “had Giovanni had seen the penalty incident”

“You are a reporter,” asked Giovanni? “You know the rules. Never anywhere in those circumstances will the referee give a penalty for that.”

“But in Montenegro it is a penalty,” said his interlocutor.

And so Trap gets animated and he is up on his feet diving about the place demonstrating the different ways in which a handball might result in a penalty. He has, he points out before a smattering of applause, “seen it all”.

He reflects on the campaign.

“Our results have all been achieved with our hearts and this winning mentality. I am very happy with how the players are taking in my words and it is really important that this team has believed me and this type of situation since the very beginning.

“When we came here the players were disappointed from losing. We built this mentality.”

He switches between English and Italian, depending on his enthusiasm for the thought he is expressing.

“I am not somebody who is satisfied with little,” he says, bringing a blush to his translator’s cheeks. “I always break my players’ balls. You can ask any of the players in my great champions I have had in the past. We have to work hard.”

We nod. Charmed into submission. He talks about his playing days, nights of war in cities like Glasgow making us laugh. Talking about Roy Keane, about character, about what makes a team, abut playing against Di Stefano and other men who would break you in half.

“I will go to Zurich” he concluded “and try not to fight with Blatter.” We weren’t sure what it all meant but it was better than the football. We gave him a Mexican wave.