Walters claim for starting role hard to ignore
Ireland 1 (Cox, 86) – Czech Republic 1 (Baros, 50)
Simon Cox and James McClean will emerge as the headline names from an underwhelming 1-1 draw against the Czechs, but it was another assured performance from Jonathan Walters that should really grab the limelight. The Stoke City man appeared from the bench with 20 minutes remaining and his strength, intelligence and movement immediately transformed the Irish attack. His first touch of the game set up Paul Green to work the goalkeeper, his next created an opening for Andrews and for the remainder his work rate and positioning was such as to make the often directionless long ball tactic look like a viable means of picking the lock. Cox will take the plaudits, but it was the presence of Walters as the focal point of Ireland’s attack which provided the foothold in the final third from which the goal came. Continue reading
eal confidence that we might actually finish ahead of Messrs Arshavin and co. Once the dust has settled, our record against the Russians ought to give us pause for thought. The teams last met at Lansdowne Road in 2003, with a frustrating 1-1 draw denying Ireland the win they needed to stay in the reckoning for top spot. The previous September in Moscow had proven a grim affair, with calamitous defending resulting in a 4-2 defeat for the Irish and hastening Mick McCarthy’s resignation some weeks later. 
As those who know me can testify, I am normally the most pessimistic Irish fan going. Every incursion into the Irish half is a grounds for despair, every loss of possession becomes the beginning of the end, every opposition throw-in sets off doomsday scenarios in my head. Some friends who could no longer withstand my relentless pessimism have made a point of refusing to watch Ireland matches with me – others have actually started drinking games based around the number of times I swear at the television screen. For me, it’s a coping mechanism: if I fear the worst, then if/when it happens I will at least have the consolation of having been right. If I’m proven wrong, then obviously I can bask in the elation of a good Irish result. But as with many fans, I am superstitious/clairvoyant enough to sense that my mental state somehow, inexplicably and inexorably, affects proceedings on the pitch. For all the enthusiastic Olé-Olé-ers talking of booking tickets to South Africa, there has to be one miserable wretch watching the whole thing unfold through the cracks in his fingers while making deals with God. That’s me.
Native Mind 