WHEN a section of the Ireland support boo-ed God Save the King at the Aviva in September there was a lot of preaching about how we needed to be more mature as a people.
You know, get over the hundreds of years of English oppression and all that.
You know, grab a latte and move on goys.
Personally, I couldn’t bring myself to boo another nation’s anthem and I have friends and relatives who are English but I could understand why some Irish fans did so that night.
International sport is about national pride.
Sports stadia aren’t places to be all mature and reasonable.
They are the home of passion and excitement where it’s alright to be human and let your emotions get the better of you every now and again.
Then, when the final whistle goes, you can get back to being the model citizen you really are.
That doesn’t mean personal abuse, or violence is ever justified but you’re going to get all sorts at a football match. You have to expect – and enjoy - a bit of an edge. It adds a bit of flavour!
I remember when I was a lad going to matches in the back of the car, a mild-mannered friend of my father’s got to his feet during one game and roared: “Ah come on Armagh for f**k sake!”
I’d never been so shocked in all my life! I didn’t think the man would know the F-word, let alone say it. Let alone roar it! He got the outburst out and went back to his old self, I don’t think I’ve heard him drop the F-bomb since.
That would be typical of GAA supporters. Every now and again frustration comes bubbling out but sure you wouldn’t meet better.
The same can be said of the Republic of Ireland supporters who cheered on the Boys in Green at Wembley last Sunday.
Around 7,000 made the trip to London and they travelled more in hope than expectation because there hasn’t been a band wagon to jump on as far as Ireland are concerned for many a year.
There was more boo-ing of God Save the King at Wembley after the England fans had done their best to drown out Amhrán na bhFiann.
Now there was no trouble in the city, or near the ground. Fans weren’t allowed to drink in the same pubs together but they mingled freely and the Ireland fans were in great spirits as they waited for the kick-off.
The jingoistic parade by the British Armed Forces completely soured the mood.
Under Fifa rules, England aren’t permitted to wear the poppy on their shirts and so, presumably, Sunday’s military parade was a substitute for that.
The minute the soldiers came marching out of the tunnel there was uproar among the Ireland fans and it grew to a crescendo as around 50 men and women uniform paraded by.
To mark the centenary of the Easter Rising in 2016, the FAI included a reference to the 1916 Rising on Ireland’s training jersey for a friendly against Switzerland and were fined by Uefa.
What penalty, you wonder, will the England FA get for having a full-on military parade around the pitch on Sunday?
It was an intimidating spectacle and you might wonder what need there was for the FA to decide to precede a game against Ireland with such an unnecessary pageant.
Obviously nobody cared that it would cause offence.
Somebody could have had a word and said: “Actually, Nigel, given the history between these nations maybe we should park the army stuff?”
But sure what country doesn’t England have a history of conflict with?
If you take a walk around the touristy parts of London you’ll see that military might is a massive part of what the nation is all about.
Walk from Trafalgar Square up to the Houses of Parliament and enormous bronze statues of various Field Marshalls line the route.
Under the shadow of Big Ben at the entrance to the Houses of Parliament is Cromwell Green, named in honour of Oliver Cromwell of course.
Cromwell’s genocidal campaign in Ireland in the mid-1600s which included atrocities in Wexford and Drogheda among many other war crimes should never be forgotten.
But they honour him in London.
Not that his puritanical beliefs would ever have countenanced sport on a Sunday, but he’d have been delighted with the result.
If I’d been offered a draw, even a 2-1 loss beforehand I would certainly have taken it. I was hoping for a goal and a performance and hoping for complacency from the English and there was definitely a hint of that.
Before kick-off two of the English journalists went through the Irish team.
“Don’t forget Molumby spells ‘Jayson’ with a ‘Y’,” says one.
“Who’s does he play for then?” asked the other.
“Erm… I want to say West Brom… Yes, West Brom,” replied the first after a quick Google search.
“Oh,” says his mate, “Well, I’m can’t say I’m familiar with his work.”
I was willing Jayson Molumby to rub yer man’s words in his face.
I’d have loved him to score two goals and then walk into the press box afterwards and go up to him: “Here, you’re familiar with me work now, aren’t ya? Well… AREN’T YA?!”
For 50 minutes it seemed like Molumby and the boys might leave the field in higher standing than they had taken it. The first half was excellent: Liam Scales emptied Harry Kane as the confidence grew and at half-time it seemed a point was the least we’d get.
Then a mistake, a penalty, a red card for Scales… In the end it was a hiding, but will England pay any penalty?
