‘the most distressing moment of a channel-hopping night came when Ireland's defeat by Switzerland acquired a discordant soundtrack: that of a sizeable proportion of the Dublin crowd jeering Mick McCarthy and chanting the name of Keane, by which they meant Roy rather than Robbie, who was on the pitch. What wretches. What ungrateful buffoons. And what doormats they were to laud the erstwhile captain just a few months after he had stalked away from their cause on the eve of a World Cup.
Had Ireland's opponents set out to design the most treacherous sabotage, they could have done no better than arrange the departure, after a foul-mouthed tirade at McCarthy, of Keane. Or so we feared at the time. In fact Ireland played very well without Keane. And that, in telling us all we needed to know about the McCarthy regime, ought to have been the end of the affair.
Instead mischief could not resist its penchant for following Keane around. Despite his pre-eruption announcement that he would retire from international football after the World Cup, a sizeable body of opinion still wanted him back, at McCarthy's expense. And that remains so.
Ludicrous though it may seem - for, to paraphrase the Indigo Girls, these people are in love with a ghost - the regime is being undermined. Bad is driving good out of the European Championship. I am not so much sorry for McCarthy, who will eventually find himself in a more rewarding job, as for the thousands of decent Irish fans who have made all the green adventures such fun and must be wondering whether, if another were ever to come along, it would have quite the same smooth and creamy taste.
The taste left by
Keane's five-match ban for the remorseless chopping down of Alfie Haaland in April 2001 is unpalatable to all but those who are happy to have the FA in Manchester United's pocket. Yet again, and mocking the brave noises that had emanated from Soho Square, the FA have hidden behind legal excuses and done next to nothing.Just as, for too long, they let players touch referees and thus could not be wholly absolved of blame when, after several incidents, Paolo di Canio pushed over Paul Alcock, they are refusing to take a firm stand against dangerous tackling despite the appearance of this once-in-a-lifetime, God-given instance of a player admitting a particularly blatant offence. The snag, I suppose, is that he plays for United.
At any rate there is now, in effect, no protection save human nature. If a player temporarily lacking its graces wants to relieve his frustrations by hurting an opponent and is willing to meet the price of a short rest from the game, he is welcome. How can the victim respond? By suing the FA, I suppose. After Tuesday's retreat, he would have a case. You cannot have justice without deterrence.’