Sport is a cruel master. Just ask Ed Rainsford of Zimbabwe.

He was the non-striking partner for the last ball of the last over against Ireland in our opening game in the Cricket World Cup. When it came to the final set piece, all Zimbabwe had to do was hang on in there. They had equalled Ireland’s tally of runs. They had conceded less wickets. If the striking batsman Matsikenyeri wasn’t bowled clean out, that was it: victory to Zimbabwe. Or so you’d have thought!
The ball came down, he swiped and missed – and, holy Jesus, was that a stumping? What followed will go down in the sporting annals. When the bowl was delivered, in his role as non-striking partner, Rainsford had come a third of the way down the track. He should have gone back like greased lightning once the ball had been missed – but he didn’t. While he stood there agape at what was going on – the Irish protesting vociferously that Matsikenyeri had been stumped – the ball was still in play. With a bit of quick thinking, the Irish wicket keeper fired the ball to the bowler, who was positioned beside Rainsford’s stumps. Zap! In the blink of an eye, he was run out.
For Zimbabwe, it was a catastrophe. The game was theirs. They had it won. But, literally, in the final act – in a moment of madness – they threw it away.
Sport is a cruel master indeed. Think of an Irish rugby team, high on the improbability of it all, running riot against Italy in the final match of their 2007 International Championship campaign. The Irish, having turned in a brilliant display, were a whopping 51-17 ahead in the final minute. If the score had stayed that way France would have needed to beat Scotland by 31 points to snatch the Championship crown from Ireland’s grasp.
And Ireland were awarded a penalty. Once the ball went out of play it was all over.
Instead of giving it to Ronan O’Gara to put it over the bar, and finishing the game even if he missed, in a moment of sheer lunacy – it seemed to be a collective decision – the Irish elected to look for just one more try, to add an indelible final flourish to an already awesome display.
Ah, Jesus, no! You could see it all unravelling before your eyes. The unthinkable happened. The Italians wrested possession from the Irish, hoofing the ball crudely down the field. But effectively. A mad chase ensued and Shane Horgan got there first, gathering the ball going backwards. Could he have avoided giving away the penalty that ceded possession to the Italians? Of course, you think – but his options were limited, he was under pressure and anyway, in rugby, so many of these decisions are marginal at the best of times.
The Italians ran the penalty and – unlike the Irish a few moments previously at the other end – extracted the maximum advantage, not just running over for a last ditch try but converting as well. It was as if a sword had been run through Irish hearts!
Now France needed a much more achievable 24 point win. In the end it was only as a result of a disputed last minute try – given controversially by an Irish official! – that they beat the Scots 46-19, doing just enough to seize the day. But if Ireland hadn’t lost the plot, in that final bizarre piece of brinkmanship, the championship would have been theirs.
To say that Irish fans were gutted is to put it mildly. But what must the players have felt watching the French game and seeing the extent of their folly exposed in the most galling manner imaginable?

This, of course, is what makes sport such a wonderful arena. It is why it is endlessly fascinating, uplifting – and, of course – as in the case of Zimbabwe’s final ball implosion and Ireland’s crucial last minute folly against Italy – so often thoroughly heartbreaking. In the crucible of intense competition, we learn things about ourselves, in a way that is impossible to replicate in any other context.
We learn about character, about judgement, about ability, about organisation, discipline, bravery, spirit and commitment. And we also get an insight into just how much we lack in any and all of these areas, when the chips are down.
In almost every respect, Irish rugby is on an unprecedented high. It couldn’t have been better timed, in what is a World Cup year. There is a possibility, if all of our best players are available, that we will seriously challenge for the crown in the autumn – an extraordinary thought, given how often Ireland has counted among the also-rans in the past. But the focus now shifts to the far more important matter of football, and Ireland’s Euro ‘08 campaign, which has gone so unnervingly badly to date.
It would be next to impossible to achieve a greater contrast to our recent rugby performances: under Steve Staunton, we have been full of apprehension, uncertainty and on occasion downright confusion. The players themselves have admitted that we looked like a pub team against Cyprus. And then came the debacle against San Marino.
But here lies the rub. We are still in with a real chance of reaching the finals. True, it will require a huge improvement in our level of performance – but we have to start by believing that it can be done.
There is added spice to the upcoming fixtures against Wales and Slovakia because these are Ireland’s first ever soccer games in Croke Park. Neither of these opponents will be easy meat. But, on the other hand, both of them are eminently beatable. Contrary to the current perceived wisdom, we do have the players capable of putting a string of good results together. The question is: can we send them out to play with the required level of organisation, conviction and self-belief?
There is no better time, and to an even greater extent, no better place to start. Right now, Steve Staunton has the future of Irish football in his hands. He is a good, decent and honest man, who has all the heart that is required himself. He now needs to find a way of communicating that to the players, and – even more crucially – to give them the organisational framework on which to build the kind of punishing, high tempo game that we’re best at.
If he does, then we can take six points from these games. If he doesn’t then we are done for. It’s a big ask. But the cliché was invented for this scenario: it is all there to play for.
Momentum is hugely important. Confidence too. In sport, reputations are made in situations like this. In our heads we may think it is a long shot, but in our hearts the vast majority of us want Steve Staunton to come good. Not later. Now.
Soccer at Croke Park? As this special souvenir edition of hotpress underlines, history is being made. Let’s hope it’s the kind that we’ll bask in for a long time into the future.
We don’t want to be relying on cricket and rugby for our good times, do we?