Troy Parrott's heroics in Hungary and Trump's betrayal of Zelenskyy and Ukraine: "How can these separate worlds co-exist?"

It had got to the stage where we were sick and tired of reading about just how bad Ireland’s World Cup campaign had been. The current Irish team were unceremoniously written off by every single soccer pundit. “We just don’t have the players,” we were told, over and over again. That much, I knew, was far too simplistic. It was wrong.

The manager, Heimir Hallgrimsson, had also been widely accorded the status of Yesterday’s Man. He was being humorously dismissed by Eamon Dunphy as The Dentist. Which, of course, he is. But the implication was that he knew nothing about football and should go back to examining molars.

The smiling, toothy confidence that Hallgrimsson had expressed at the start of the campaign was easily derided. What can he have been thinking, when he talked about winning the duels, becoming the best at set-pieces – and all the rest of the optimistic dreaming he had expounded and that now seemed to lie in smoking, toxic ruins? He was clearly a fool, a clown, an amateur, going on like that – and then producing results like, well, like this....

We had leaked two goals in the first 20-odd minutes at home to Hungary. Lost to Armenia in Yerevan. Couldn’t hold out for a draw against Portugal away. One miserable point after three games? That was surely the beginning and the end of it. We were losers, in the Trumpian sense. Total losers.

A 1-0 home win against Armenia hardly lifted spirits much. We should be able to thump them 4-0. Maybe even six. If a miserly one-goal win was the best we could do against a team that started the World Cup in 105th place in the FIFA rankings, then what hope was there?

It got worse. The news came through from Italy that Evan Ferguson, a young man on whose shoulders so many Irish hopes had been heaped – and scorer of goals against Hungary and Armenia – was injured for the home game against Portugal. Who were ranked 5th in the world. Most commentators saw it as a foregone conclusion. The likelihood was that we’d be hammered.

Then, up stepped Troy “Slick As A” Parrott.

AN ASYMMETRIC WAR

A different planet.

“Did you hear the one about Donald Trump selling Ukraine down the Suwannee?” someone asked.

“It wasn’t the Suwannee, it was the Dnipro,” came the answer.

In a different moment you might have laughed, but this was far too serious for mirth.

It is three years and nine months since Russia – without even the slightest shred of justification – invaded Ukraine. They thought they’d march to Kiev and spend the next week celebrating the take-over. Appoint a puppet government. Exert de facto control. And Vladimir would be everybody’s favourite uncle.

Instead, the Russians were driven back by a Ukrainian army that proved far smarter and more resilient than the hawks in Moscow had anticipated. But the Ukrainians received neither the military support nor the freedom to fight on equal terms that would have made all the difference during that first six-month phase. They could only push the invaders back so far before conditions deteriorated, creating a stalemate. The winter of 2022 gave the Russian army the opportunity to dig in, mine the area in front of them, build barricades and stifle further Ukrainian progress.

Winter 2025: since the invasion began, more than one million Russian troops have been killed or injured. The equivalent figure for Ukraine – forced to fight an asymmetric war in which their capacity to strike back into Russian territory has been frustrated by the timid attitudes of their allies in the US (under Joe Biden) and Europe – is in excess of 400,000.

So where was all this going?

Donald Trump’s performance in trying to meet his target of ending the war within 24 hours of becoming President of the United States of America for the second time was far worse even than Heimir Hallgrimsson’s was judged as Ireland manager. The war dragged on. But with every public utterance, you could see that the most important consideration for Donald Trump was how quickly he could get into bed with Vladimir Putin – and how thoroughly he could betray, and better still humiliate, the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

And make as much money as possible along the way.

I THINK HE’S ONSIDE

A lot of people were yawning mightily, on the countdown to Ireland’s game against Portugal. There was a full house at Lansdowne Road on the night, but half of that mob had likely come to see Cristiano Ronaldo and Bruno Fernandes in action. And the nine other world-class players who’d line out for Portugal, while they were at it.

Doubtless, there were groans all over Ireland when the name Liam Scales appeared on the team-sheet in the left wing-back position. Sure, he’s a decent footballer, but he doesn’t cross the ball like Ryan Manning or dribble like Mikey Johnston. Don’t expect any assists coming from that quarter.

17 minutes. Josh Cullen corner from the left. Scales rising to head it back across the goal. Troy Parrott, unmarked less than five yards out, nodding it home. Sheer bloody pandemonium. Mass euphoria. Dancing at lunacy. But it couldn’t last. Could it? Would we even hold out till half-time? Jesus wept. Probably not...

Still. Soaking up. The pressure. Almost there. Caoimhin Kelleher kick-out for Ireland. The ball headed back across the half-way line by a Portuguese defender. Collins chest-down to Dara O’Shea. Ball pinged over the top, into the yawning space behind the Portuguese defence. Parrott onto it like a light. “I think he’s onside,” the RTÉ man said. Running at the defence. Then a switch across to the right. Keeper anticipating a curler into his top left-hand corner. Instead Parrott’s shot goes near-post – and it’s in the fucking back of the net! 2-0! Dreamland...

61 minutes and counting. Dara O’Shea hits the turf after an elbow from Cristiano Ronaldo. Yellow card. VAR. Red card. Ronaldo miming a cartoon boo-hoo. What a bunch of girls, sez he. Endless hilarity. The clock ticks down. Ireland 2 – 0 Portugal. Is that a smile I see on Mr. Hallgrimson’s countenance? Unfortunately the Dunph is not on the premises to share in the moment.

50% OF THE PROFITS

10 months since he reclaimed the White House, and Trump is still trying to bully Zelenskyy. There have been more meetings between the Americans and Russians, with no invitation to anyone from Europe or Ukraine to join in the fun.  It has all the hallmarks of a stitch-up.

“And so it is,” to quote Damien Rice, “just like you said it would be…”

It is hardly a surprise that the much-trumpeted Trump Peace Plan – unveiled last week – to end the ongoing, vicious and monstrously costly military assault on Ukraine by Russia (aka the war in Ukraine) sounds like nothing more or less than a document produced by Russia itself.

Which is probably exactly what it is. It was negotiated – that is, concocted – we’re told, by Kirill Dmitriev, CEO of Russia’s sovereign wealth fund, alongside the desperate US duo of Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner. Partners in crime.

Any sane person would look at it and think: Putin could have written this piece of shit himself.

In its initial incarnation, it was loaded feverishly against Ukraine. Was this a ploy to spook the Ukrainians and their European friends into thinking: “Jesus, we’re going to have to make a few concessions here?” No matter. What is unmistakable is the sheer effrontery of it all – and the fact that it rewards the aggressor, in a way that makes not a smidgen of sense. How so?

– Ukraine is required to cap its armed forces at 600,000. Russia faces no comparable constraints.

– Ukraine ‘agrees’ to enshrine in its constitution that it will not join NATO, and NATO agrees to include in its statutes a provision that Ukraine will not be admitted in the future. There is no balancing provision, limiting the sovereign decisions made by Russia in relation to its future alliances.

Then we get to the bare-faced grift, the theft, the treachery:

– Ukraine will receive reliable security guarantees... The US will receive compensation for the guarantee

– Russia will be reintegrated into the global economy:

• The United States will enter into a long-term economic cooperation agreement for mutual development in the areas of energy, natural resources, infrastructure, artificial intelligence, data centres, rare earth mxetal extraction projects in the Arctic, and other mutually beneficial corporate opportunities.

• Russia will be invited to rejoin the G8.

The US will take, not once but three times over, while Europe has to pay. If they have any bottle in Brussels, the plan will get an immediate red card. I mean, is there any comparison between what Ronaldo did and this evil shit?

– Frozen funds will be used as follows:

• $100bn (£76bn) in frozen Russian assets will be invested in US-led efforts to rebuild and invest in Ukraine;

• The US will receive 50% of the profits from this venture. Europe will add $100bn (£76bn) to increase the amount of investment available for Ukraine’s reconstruction. Frozen European funds will be unfrozen. The remainder of the frozen Russian funds will be invested in a separate US-Russian investment vehicle that will implement joint projects in specific areas. This fund will be aimed at strengthening relations and increasing common interests to create a strong incentive not to return to conflict.

The most laughable bit is the one aimed at making Europe react: “This sounds like a good idea!” Think of what Trump is doing in the US. Now read on:

• Both countries (Ukraine and Russia) undertake to implement educational programmes in schools and society aimed at promoting understanding and tolerance of different cultures and eliminating racism and prejudice...

Is that not a bit… woke? And what about this? Remember, Russia is an autocracy, in which there is no such thing as independent media...

• Both countries will agree to abolish all discriminatory measures and guarantee the rights of Ukrainian and Russian media and education.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (wipes tears from his eyes).

The insistence that Ukraine must hand over land, including areas they currently control is buried way down in Paragraph 21.

• Crimea, Luhansk and Donetsk will be recognised as de facto Russian, including by the United States.

And then the knife is twisted, not once but twice..

• “Ukraine will hold elections in 100 days,” the draft says – as if Russia is a democratic country and they hold free and fair elections there. And as if Russia would have no interest whatsoever in using every method under the sun to influence the outcome of an election in Ukraine.

But this is, perhaps, even worse.

• All parties involved in this conflict will receive full amnesty for their actions during the war and agree not to make any claims or consider any complaints in the future.

Think about it: (a) It is known that Russia has committed war crimes of a hugely pernicious nature, on an ongoing basis – and that they are still doing it even as we write; (b) while war inevitably produces bad behaviour, there is no credible evidence of any comparable crimes being committed by Ukraine. So why should the Russians be given a free pass on this critical issue?

And when this disgusting piece of mercenary manipulation is not greeted as the work of a superhero, what does Donald Trump have to say?

“Ukraine has zero gratitude,” he says…

Which he has said before, in the Oval Office, at that infamous meeting set up to humiliate and intimidate President Zelenskyy.

“Thank you for trying to shaft us,” Mr. President.

OWED AN APOLOGY

Away to Hungary. Viktor Orban country. How sweet it would be to throw a spanner in his stinking works.

In advance, there was cause for a sliver or two of optimism. Alright, it was 11 v. 10 because Rolland Sallai had been sent off, but for the second half of the match in Dublin we were completely on top, pummelling them consistently. We came from 2-0 down to get the draw. We should have won. Was that a cause for optimism or despair?

Secondly, against Portugal, we were disciplined and effective in defence – and occasionally we looked like a proper team going forward. Coleman was brilliant. Ogbene was looking almost back to his best. And then there was Troy, who was super-sharp. Maybe he might nick something in Budapest. A 1-0 win would do, after all…

We know the drama by heart now. 3 minutes. 1-0 to Hungary. Sick in the stomach. That’s probably that. Ogbene wins a penalty. Troy Parrott steps up. What the hell’s going on? Why is he waiting so long? That’ll unnerve him, for sure. Edge of the seat. Oh, no! The strike doesn’t look entirely clean, but it’s hard, low and in the corner. 1-1.

37 minutes. Ball to Barnabás Varga outside the Irish area. A moment of hesitation between Collins and O’Shea. Enough time for the big No.19 to turn and smack the sweetest half-volley into the top left hand corner of Caoimhin Kelleher’s goal. A one-in-a-hundred strike, brutal punishment for the tiniest transgression. Despair.

80 minutes. Finn Aziz showing what he can do. Dinks a sweetly flighted ball over the defence. Watch it again. Troy Parrott is already on his bicycle. In behind the defence. Get to it first. One touch, a second. And then the little finishing dink over the goalkeeper, infinitesimally – maybe a hundredth of a second – ahead of the keeper getting his hand to it. Sweet Jesus.

The final push. Fifth minute of added time. Ball comes to Kelleher nearly on the half-way line. He pushes it forward to get a better angle (what if he hadn’t?). Launches it into the danger zone. Scales makes a mighty leap. Watch this again too. A striker who really wants it, Troy Parrott is on the move early. In behind the defence again. Not his toe. Not the side of his foot. Not the sweet spot every player wants to find every time. Instinct and adrenaline combining. Sole of Troy Parrot’s boot punches the ball down and under the keeper.

They think it’s all over – it is now! 3-2 Ireland. Delirium.

There is an entire thesis in the infinitesimally fine margins between success and failure in all of this. But most of all there is a simple lesson. It takes skill, courage, the vision to see the picture before it happens, and an instinct for doing the right thing. But most of all, if you have the fierce desire and determination in your blood, your bones and your heart, you create chances that otherwise would look like a half-decent idea that just didn’t work.

A lot of people owed Heimir an apology. He allowed himself a smile.

ANOTHER DIMENSION

A different planet. How can these separate worlds co-exist? How can we reconcile the joy that sporting success – a winning goal at the very death! – brings to a nation with the appalling reality that Donald Trump is murdering people off the coast of Venezuela? Standing by while more people are butchered by Israel in Gaza in defiance of the so called ceasefire? And trying to bring his good friend Vladimir Putin in from the cold, the 1.5million people killed or injured since he invaded notwithstanding?

And profiting from the fact that the World Cup will take place in the US next year. We will be looking forward to March and a date with destiny against Czechia. But the idea of travelling to the US is a whole other dimension. Maybe best avoided..