If the tired – but probably accurate – stereotype differentiating between the soccer fraternity and their rugby counterparts in Ireland didn’t exist, chances are somebody would already have a movie script or a play in the works lauding Gavin Bazunu for his courageous, assured decision to withdraw his services from last Sunday evening’s UEFA Nations League encounter between the Rep. Of Ireland and war mongering Israel in Hungary.
Something along the lines of the magnificent Alone It Stands – produced in homage to the (once) mighty men of Munster who defeated the All Blacks in Thomond Park all of 48 years ago now.
No doubt there will be those who will point to the equally splendid I, Keano as the soccer equivalent, borne out of the shambolic embarrassment that was the Saipan debacle. When, as only the Irish could, the best player in the world at the time was banished from the Irish camp before the 2002 World Cup had even kicked off.
However, where the two dramatically brilliant works differ is that where the rugby ensemble was absolutely done in tribute to the history makers in red of that time, I, Keano was – no matter what way anybody wants to dress it up – was, in its essence, taking the pi** out of Roy Keane.
Now, unbelievable though it might seem in this day and age, there have been a sickening cohort who have, in relation to Gavin Bazunu, trotted out the “He’s not really Irish” scour. Oblivious to the fact that swathes of the same demographic would have been the ones bleating about ‘Pico’ Lopez, his heroics with Cape Verde and what a brilliant endorsement it was for ‘our’ domestic football.
By the way, lest anybody get any notions to the contrary, the comparison was not, in any way, meant as a dig at the Shamrock Rovers star. He is the epitome of what a role model should be. So too is Gavin, but the polarised reactionary narrative surrounding the two cases could hardly be more stark.
It’s very easy to kick a player – or a group of them – when they are down. You can be damn sure if any of the same gasbags were on the go when Paul McGrath or Terry Phelan or Phil Babb were assisting Jack Charlton in creating the greatest era Irish soccer has ever had, the lads’ level of Irishness wouldn’t even have entered their pea-sized brains.
If one was to strip away the rudiments of the actual football match, while the Bolton Wanderers shot stopper is wholly worthy of every bit of praise sent his way in the aftermath of the shambles of last weekend, equally, no blame could be apportioned to those who did tog out as they were put in an impossible position by a combination of the incompetence of the FAI and the lack of impotus on behalf of the Irish Government.
All of which was made worse by the FAI – with nauseating predictability – completely shirked their responsibility and blamed the media.
The sickening irony of which is the fact that the chief of the soccer organisation is a former media man himself. But instead of owning up and owning the fact that this was a farce entirely of their own making.
What made the Association’s bluster all the more difficult to accept is the hiding behind supposedly “Disastrous consequences” of not fulfilling the fixture. Yet, on each of the numerous occasions they pressed to elaborate on same, they could in no way enlighten the questioners as to what said ramifications of not fulfilling the fixture would have been.
Not that it mattered. Regardless of what any consequences might have been in terms of a football match or competition, nothing in relation to any of that can – or at least should – override the genocidal ethnic cleansing being perpetrated on the people of Gaza by the nation whom we were apparently ‘obliged’ to field against.
So out of respect for those who did tog out and play it should be pointed out that their efforts manifested as the best overall performance from an Irish team in a long time.
With a triumvirate of early goals coming courtesy of Adam Idah, Jack Moylan and Troy Parrot – from a nuts and bolts perspective – putting the result beyond all doubt. That, however, was, as ít happened, was the easy part of the evening’s work.
Compared, that is, with the physical brutality and hostility they were put through on the pitch and by the Israeli media.
Almost unnoticed they have put themselves back into contention in the group and, with the way the fixtures stack up and with the inescapable feeling that Heimir Halgrimsson has the look of a lucky general about him, who knows where the journey might end up.
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