It’s called football, not soccer. And it’s back

We as a nation have had many sporting heroes, but as far as Darragh Harkin is concerned, there is nothing quite like the feeling of an Irish football team at a major tournament.

For so long, Irish football fans have had to put up with tales of sporting greatness from areas that weren’t their own. The Irish rugby team, Kerry in Gaelic Football, Kilkenny in Hurling, a few boxers here, a couple of cricketers there and all the time waiting for the football team to make us proud again. Well, that has finally happened and from now until next summer we can once again be proud to be Irish football fans.

I love sport and will cheer on every Irish sportsman and woman no matter what their chances or chosen sport. From a cold November night in the Heineken Cup to a drab boxing affair in Castlebar, I will get excited about the chances of us having a new champion or and up and comer in any sport. But for the last ten years, I have been waiting patiently for the return of the Boys in Green.

I’ve heard two people say they wouldn’t bring Glenn Whelan. This I find hard to believe as surely Whelan deserves his place for his moustache alone.

World Cup 2002 in Korea and Japan was the first major football tournament that I was old enough to really enjoy. Yes, I remember being a kid and going nuts for Timofte versus Bonner in 1990 and in 1994 when Ray “I put the ball in an English net” Houghton decided to also put the ball in an Italian one. We all went bananas.

But as a young child I don’t think I appreciated it enough. Two World Cups in a row is pretty special for a nation as small as ours and foolishly, I anticipated it would just keep happening.

Then Euro ‘96 came along and though it was hosted in England, we were not involved. France ‘98 may have been a fine World Cup as a spectacle but it had no hint of green and sadly neither did Belgium or the Netherlands during Euro 2000. As a football fan, there was an empty feeling inside and we were forced to wait to get back on the big stage. So when in 2002 it finally happened, the country rejoiced with glee.

We may have lost our captain in a debacle before the tournament even started but World Cup 2002 holds many great memories for Irish football fans. Think Gary Breen playing out of his skin, Matty Holland with his rocket of a right peg and the youthful Duff and Keane keeping us on the edge of our seats.

These were great times but of course they couldn’t last and though the tournament came and went in the blink of eye, the next ten tournament-free years went slower than Stan the Gaffer going for a jog with weights in his boots.

Ah, the memories. Ray Houghton's terribly executed celebration after scoring against Italy at USA '94

No matter how good the football was or how many great goals were scored at the Euros or World Cup, not having Ireland there meant it just wasn’t the same. We could have been the Greece of 2004, the Ukraine of 2006, the Russia or Turkey of 2008 or the cheaty cheat boys, sorry I mean France, of 2010.

Alas, it didn’t happen and instead we as a nation of football fans clung to the other Irish sporting heroes. From Bernard Dunne becoming European Champion to Padraig Harrington winning back to back major championships, the Irish sporting world was going good.

Katie Taylor kept on winning, the cricket boys did us proud and the golfers went into over drive. The standout point during these non football moments came in 2009 when heroes named O’Driscoll, O’Connell and O’Gara got the whole country talking rugby and Grand Slams. I watched this in a swamped pub in Limerick, spilt my pint as ROG slotted home his now famous drop goal and nearly lost my lunch waiting for Stephen Jones to miss his penalty.

I cheered all these great moments on with great gusto and joy but always with a part of me wondering when the football players would be back on top. Finally thanks to Trap and his boys, summer 2012 will have the country cheering on the boys in football green one more time.

Two World Cups in a row is pretty special for a nation as small as ours and foolishly, I anticipated it would just keep happening.

For me, the months leading up to the Euros will be as exciting as the tournament itself. Next month we find out who we’ll be drawn against and the universal feeling is no matter who we get, we will give them a game. From the start of 2012 we will get a few friendlies under the belt and hopefully one with England will put behind the events of 1995 whilst testing ourselves against a strong opposition.

Chats in pubs will effortlessly switch to which 23 should be on the plane and already I’ve heard two people say they wouldn’t bring Glenn Whelan. This I find hard to believe as surely Whelan deserves his place for his moustache alone?

With the squad sorted in our heads the next thing will be a few months of nail biting moments as we hope our star players can remain fit and in good form.

Praying Duffer can stay fresh playing for Fulham, anxiously waiting to see if Bob Keane will get a decent loan move in the off season of the MLS and sincerely hoping Richard Dunne turns his efforts down to around 80 per cent for Villa so he’s ready to perform another miracle like he did in Moscow.

It’s moments like these where you may actually tune into a Spartak Moscow game to see how the boy McGeady is looking.

The European Championships of 2012 may be seven months away but so many of us are already thinking of booking flights and renting a camper van. Joxer and the boys will surely be joining us and the whole nation will go football crazy.

Kids in the streets wearing the Irish football kit and not kicking an oval ball for a little while will make me swell with pride. ‘Put em under pressure’, ‘We’re all part of Trap’s army’ and a bit of ‘Ole Ole’ have been in the background for too long.

It’s called football, it’s the most watched, most played and most famous sport the world has to offer and thanks to a magic old Italian man, this tiny nation on the west coast of Europe is back in the mix once more.

I hope we never hear it called soccer again.

Darragh Harkin