EURO 2012 PLAY-OFF, FIRST LEG: Estonia 0 Republic of Ireland 4:THE SKY was so clear in Tallinn last night the Irish players might well have picked out the quaint football ground they had ransacked as they departed for Dublin in a blaze of glory long after midnight.
Four goals and the strange spectacle of John Delaney taking a long, lone encore in front of the ecstatic fans was the reward after an evening that brings Irish football back to the bright lights.
Tuesday night’s match in Dublin should be a coronation now. The Estonians must pack their boots and travel without time to gather themselves after their big night turned nightmarish.
Two years ago, Ireland missed out on the World Cup after the lurching and sickening theatre in Paris. Last night here could not have been more different.
The journey through this campaign has given plenty of anxious nights and victories that hinged on individual valour. But here, in a match on which everything hinged, it all fell into place.
The goals for captain Robbie Keane – he reached No 53 with his stutter-step penalty on 88 minutes; the smart, bustling presence of John Walters, whose starting position was guarded like a secret of Fatima by Giovanni Trapattoni until shortly before kick-off; that, for once, no super-heroics were required from Richard Dunne; the spiky, intelligent approach from Aiden McGeady and his exquisite cross for Keith Andrew’s 13th-minute goal . . . The night went perfectly.
Trapattoni was not as expressive in his joy as the chief executive, but as the Estonian fans shuffled off into the night he could reflect on the latest success on a glittering football life. And as ever, while praising his young players, he again reminded people that the foundations of respect and commitment remain central to his philosophy.
“It is difficult, but I would like to compare it to a match that Italy played to go to Korea. It was one of those matches that is different to the others. I said yesterday that I have been many times to the edge of a cliff. Matches like this are what I would call top level matches.
“This is one of the most important achievements for me. It came from a situation where a number of players didn’t answer calls or didn’t bother. We brought in 10 or 12 new players and gave the team the same mentality and culture, and this was a huge satisfaction.”
Or, as he put it later: “The cat is in the sack but the sack is not closed.”
Tying that knot will be little more than ceremonial. The 3,000 Irish fans who gathered here could hardly have dreamed of a night so free of worry. They sang in the Town Hall square from lunchtime, draped the handsome buildings with Tricolours and kicked a football around and scavenged for illusive tickets.
The small A Le Coq arena is a gem of a ground and the Estonians arrived early, pleased and optimistic about this unexpected push for European glory. They sang their anthem in loud baritone and pointed at the Irish players familiar from Premier League satellite games and dared to hope that they might be about to witness one of those half-miraculous nights in which the Irish themselves have specialised.
And, for a while, their play lit by the craft and energy of Dimtri Kruglov, they had reason to hope they could upset their visitors.
“I was optimistic but I was worried,” Trapattoni said, “because I played football, I had many national teams and the performance can change the result. But after the first goal, I felt at this moment our possibility to qualify was very near.”
After 13 minutes, his decision to go with Walters bore fruit. The Estonians tried to counter the big Stoke City striker with the rangy Ragnar Klavan, and while they broke even on their clashes in the air, it was the quick, clever touches of Walters that surprised. He got a toe to the ball that ran to Keane, who lost his footing after flicking the ball on to McGeady. But before the Estonians could rally, McGeady placed a delicate cross into the path of Andrews, who found the net with a perfectly angled header.
The Italian grinned wryly when invited to reflect on starting Walters.
“I’m not God. I make many mistakes, but after 30 years in football I know some things. Walters in the game did show us his quality.”
It was still 1-0 at half-time. An hour gone and it became frantic and edgy as the Estonians began to enjoy life around the edge of the Irish area. A clever free by Konstantin Vasilyev whistled low through a crowded area, but Shay Given was perfectly placed.
At the other end, Glenn Whelan and Damien Duff came racing for the same ball and clattered into one another: Duff’s wraithlike frame fared worse.
Experience has shown Irish football people that, in nervy situations like this, bad things can visit their team, out of the blue.
Suddenly, though, it was all but fireworks over Tallinn. It all changed on 65 minutes: a swift Irish counter, McGeady dancing into the area, and when Sergei Pareiko parried his shot, Keane’s mind was sharpest and his scooped cross to Walters was on the money. Walter’s finish was simple and he deserved the delirium of the visiting fans for an evening of excellent industry.
By now, Estonian hopes were fading and, for the Irish, masters of hair-raising drama, the evening suddenly turned into a delightful procession. Andrews belted a low free kick after 70 minutes and Keane, the supreme poacher, showed up to tap home his 52nd goal. Just like that, it was 3-0. The gift of a late penalty made it 4-0.
All promise and ambition fled the Estonians as the night turned more frigid and the scoreboard more grim. They lost Raio Piiroja to a second booking after 73 minutes. You didn’t have to understand Estonian to guess what the locals were singing about Viktor Kassai, the referee. But this football passion is new in Tallinn: even their jeers were in half good humour.
Tuesday will be the least traumatic big night in Irish football history. As the Irish players trooped off the field, all that was left was for the old serenade of Que Sera.
“We’re goin’ to Poland and the Ukraine” doesn’t trip off the tongue. But it sounds good.
