LockerRoom/Tom Humphries Once we were kings. We flew into Moscow determined to show the citizenry what fine people we royals could be. We were grand and plump with our own self- importance. We spoke often, but sensitively, of our "highly-successful World Cup" and if that was wounding to the local proletariat who didn't enjoy "a highly successful World Cup", well our mission was only to educate.
We were the number one seeds. Numero Uno. In a society which spent so long trying to be class-less, we came and asked them to watch that they might learn about the cruel stratification of the real world. We mentioned about how successful we are at manipulating the fixture negotiations so we play the harder opponents first. Heh heh! We dropped in word of how clever we were having a friendly against Finland a few weeks ago.
We talked about the type of football we play. The sheer loveliness of the road to Portugal. It was rumoured that Jason McAteer, the new Marcel Marceau of banter, had developed from his reading of the dialectics of footie wind-up a new mime gesture, the mute but cutting point of which was that the principles of the Bolshevik collectivism had been undermined by the inherent weaknesses of a closed economy. Ouch!
And we got our backsides kicked. By boys. We were out-run, out-played and out-thought. In Mick McCarthy's case, the effect was to move his kicked transom a little nearer to the whirring bacon slicer. To the rest of us, it was a jarring wake-up call.
The first point which needs making concerns Roy Keane. That point will have been made with more venom elsewhere by now, it was even made in a way by the Russian manager on Saturday night. If Roy Keane and Mick McCarthy care about Irish football as much as they say they do, if as they both say Irish football is "bigger than just one man", then they'll sort out something between themselves to make sure we have our best player and our best team on the pitch pretty soon.
Both of them owe Irish football a hell of a lot. McCarthy was plucked by Eoin Hand and given the keys to a career which changed his life. Keane got his football education in Rockmount, Cobh and a FAI-run FÁS course. Irish football invested faith and time in both of them.
We've heard lots about how they can't stand each other and how hurt they have been and it's all true. Irish football would like to hear next from the man who is prepared to swallow hard his pride.
Mick McCarthy is a good man and he doesn't deserve the following sentence, but football is cruel. Saturday wouldn't have happened with Roy Keane on the pitch. That sentence shouldn't give Roy Keane any satisfaction either. If he cares deeply about Irish football, as I believe he does, there will be no pleasure to be taken from Saturday's shambles.
What's more is that Irish football has invested heavily in Brian Kerr and his teams, has put huge amounts of energy into bringing to fruition the most talented generation of players we have ever had. Roy Keane should be guiding them from the land of promise into the realm of opportunity. He should be the senior player, the manager's voice on the field, and his consultant off it. Nobody enjoys asking McCarthy "the Roy Keane question", but when a nation's best player is overboard, it's a valid line of inquiry.
When a generation of extraordinary talents are being turned into lost boys because two men can't get on with each other as professionals, well, let Moscow be the end of the argument.
Saturday's was a landmark debacle in so many ways. Most goals conceded since that infamous day against Denmark in 1985. First opening game defeat in a qualifying campaign since 1982. Greatest altitude fallen from by any Irish soccer team since records began.
Lots of people got found out. Worse. Lots of other people will have noticed that if you outnumber us in central midfield you open up a highway. On Saturday we pulled McAteer in to help out and left Steve Finnan exposed.
We left John O'Shea in the stands and breached our own rule about players who play week to week getting a jump on players who don't. Gary Breen hasn't played competitive football this season. You could see the rust.
Colin Healy must feel like one of those trees beloved of philosophy undergraduates. They fall in the forest but nobody hears. Have they fallen at all.
Healy has given us displays which at worst have been promising and at best have been brilliant. Nobody at Celtic notices. Nobody in the busy transfer market notices. Now we must wonder if McCarthy notices.
The standard testimony to McCarthy's decency is how he sticks with players through the thin times. This is good, but there is a downside.
The team is not a rehabilitation centre. Moscow is no place to try to give Kevin Kilbane a little boost. Ian Harte is a good fellow, but he needs a little rest until he gets his edge back. Nor is the team an enhanced loyalty bonus scheme. If you've done well by the manager before but have been passed out in the pecking order by better players, well, that's life. The team is more important, isn't it?
What's to be done?
I'm not one for pushing McCarthy through the bacon slicer. Instead, let's finish with Saipan. Let's all be honest. If the training pitch in Saipan was wrong and the gear was late and the cheese sandwiches had marge on them, let somebody stand up and say it and let's be done with it. Let's put Roy Keane's over-reaction into a context.
And let's look at the way we do everything. Do other players find Taff Evans's training as uninspirational as Roy Keane does. Does Taff want to change? Does Taff need changing? Let's just ask the question. Examine every aspect. What's wrong with the under-21s? Why can't the FAI handle the media properly? If it's as frustrating dealing with them as a player as it is for a journalist, well we're beginning to get an insight.
What way do we want to do things in future?
Okay, we're not Manchester United, but can we learn anything from how they do stuff? Can we be happy and efficient without losing the atmosphere which Mick McCarthy and his staff have instilled within the squad.
With all our ducks in a row, we have the players and the opportunity to go a long way in the next European Championship finals. Or we can continue in the spirit of Saturday night and wonder forever about what might have been.
In the end everyone will lose. Mick McCarthy will have more nights like Saturday and will walk away in bitterness.
Roy Keane? You fret for him further down the road now that his life has become Jerry Springer.
We have some time.
Who's big enough to sort it out?
Who'll blink?
