15 years ago tonight

Thank you Alan McLoughlin!
Didn't realise it at all. The man himself is getting interviewed on NewsTalk about the goal, the aftermath, etc

I remember very little about the game itself, apart from Alan's goal. I remember RTE switched over to Spain - Denmark, with Spain down to 10 men and seemingly unending injury time.

There was a parent - teacher meeting that night in my school, and my Dad was raging about having to miss the game, he came home a little after half time, and the score was still 0-0.

Watched it in a pub in Cork.Tension unreal, we were heading out of the World Cup, and the Nordies were lovin' it, cue Alan Mac, cue delirium.The unreal part came at fulltime, in the bedlam very few realised that the pictures of Spain V Denmark from Seville were live, a goal for the Danes would have put them through, Laudrup hit the post in added time.When the final whistle went in Spain we went wild, people around us didn't realise that it was only then we had qualified.....happy days.

Watched it in a bedsit in Tralee with a bottle of champagne cider, (poor student days). From total dispair to total elation.

Watched it, as I did with all of the Ireland, with my Granddad. It was the one thing we had in common as my Dad, his son, hated footie. Actually left the house in Raheny when they scored (Quinn right, it was a cracker of a goal too). Only went back in when I heard the roar. I was a wimp alright.

Hard to believe that it's 15 years ago.

The weather is fairly similar in Belfast this evening, to what it was on that famous night in November 1993.

Although not as cold, as i recall.

http://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x...mInIreland.jpg

From the Irish Times archives:

OH AMERICA! A night of jangled nerves and jumbled memories. Love and hate and much between. Songs. Chants. Shocked silences. And in the end? Lo, it came to pass. Happy days are here again.

Sing it. In an arena where charity and the assisting wind of passionate support were always absent, the Republic of Ireland soccer team drew on the deepest wells of passion and commitment and prevailed.

It was a Belfast night not to be forgotten, the last stage of a painful footballing passage to America. Nails were chewed to the quick and beyond, and when the long whistle finally sounded the dream was reality. Just think of it.

For some long heavy minutes, the golden thread seemed broken. A lone visceral howl of spite rent the northern skies as one Jimmy Quinn rustled the Republic's net with a sweet volley as the game lay three-quarters dead. The Sash My Father Wore rang around the ground.

Nobody, it seemed, was going anywhere but home next summer.Always Look on the Bright Side of Life came the teasing tune from the stands in the triumphalist aftermath of Quinn's goal. Always took on the bright side of life. It was hard, it was hard. Life seemed drained briefly of its colour.

What the national soccer team have come to mean to a bedraggled nation was suddenly shockingly clear. The air was hissing out of the national morale. Back among the also rans we were. And then BOOM!

Alan McLoughlin, scarcely long enough on the pitch to have broken a sweat, gave the kiss of life to a fatalistic race. One apiece and all the news from Seville was good news. Southern fists silently punctured the air. Out of hiding came the faithful, eyes fixed greedily on America.

Yes. After weeks of worry and poison in the end it was mostly about football last night. The Windsor Park crowd huffed and puffed with the ersatz menace of a mob without a foe.

God Save the Queen was punctuated with sharp cries of "No Surrender ". Orange scarves bore the legend "For God and Ulster". The Union Jack hung from most railings. The Sash got an obligatory airing every few minutes.

In all, though, it didn't amount to very much intimidation for professional footballers.

It was a football night, a night not suited to insularity. Football grounds throughout Europe bristled with news of each other. . . San Marino winning, then losing. Wales trailing, then clawing for air. Holland ahead, hee hee. And, critically early on, an expulsion, but no goal in Seville. The football itself was a largely unpretty tangle of two stolid teams.

Northern Ireland all short passes and cutery, their southern neighbours more direct and passionate. Hopes that this meant nothing to the North were banished a full three-quarters of an hour before the kick-off when Billy Bingham, that silvery fox of Northern football, taking charge of his team for the last time, took the field to prolonged and lusty applause, which he milked shamelessly until it was amplified 10-fold.

Half-time and hearts were heavy. The bulletins dripping in from Seville brought no news of goals. Jack Charlton evidently spent the 15 minutes profitably and his side swirled passionately around the northern goal after the break. The gods, it seemed, were conspiring amenably.

The wires from Seville brought news of a Spanish goal and that, together with the resurgence of Charlton's team, seemed to suck the last spark out of the home support until, that is, Quinn set the evening alight again. After that, the happy story is already well-thumbed.

Jack Charlton, mobbed briefly at the finish, declared his feelings in predictable terms. "Wonderful" he croaked, his voice hoarse from overuse. "It's been a long, hard trip for us up here and in the end it wasn't a great performance, but we got the goal and we got the news that Spain had done us a favour. I hadn't expected that. I don't know what was wrong with us, the spirit was willing, but the football wasn't good, but our heart saw us through. I think I'm getting the flu, you know."

With that he was gone seeking out his adversary, Billy Bingham, for some words of reconciliation. "I won't enjoy my pint tonight if I feel like this all through."

As for Alan McLoughlin, the saviour of the hour, the emotions welled more freely.

"It's the first goal I have ever scored for Ireland. I am thrilled, so thrilled, I did it for my wife and family back home, for everybody. It's a great night for us. I am thrilled."

And with that the curtain of heavy but discreet northern security fell again and the victorious squad went about their business until that magic moment one minute before midnight when a boisterous plane left northern soil and all thoughts turned briefly to happy journeys to come. A familiar chant echoed. "Here we go, here we go."

http://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x...lebrations.jpg

Great night. I was in the back row of the lower deck of the North Stand. I did have an "O $h!t" moment when I realsied I was the only one celebrating the goal. Hard to believe it was 15 years ago. Seems more like 5.

We looked dead and buried when Jimmy Quinn scored and "one team in Ireland" and "you're not going to the USA" being belted out around the ground.

Great night. Great memories.

Ddi they show it on the news or MNS? I've been dying to record the goal

I was in fourth class in Kildare at the time. Pure magic. I remember the heartbreak a month or two before when we were trounced by Spain in Dublin when we were all ready to party. I remember some guy on RTE wearing a hat that said "Boston" on it - he kept reminding us that Boston was where we were going if we won, funny we ended up playin in NJ and Florida instead. I'll never forget the tension that night - I watched in in my living room with my stepmother and older sister. I don't remember Laudrup hitting the woodwork in added time for Denmark but I do remember the McLoughlin goal quite well. One of those childhood memories I'll never forget, probably my top moment as an Ireland supporter.

looking at that photo - some great players there. Please let us unearth a few gems over the next few years that can rival that squad of players.

Headed over from Manchester to watch it with the Dublin ROISSC in the working mens club in Dublin. Fabulous night...

Never realised it was Mcloughlins first goal for us. Folklore stuff.........

Great day that was. I may have been in 5th year at the time and I vaguely remember campaigning with teachers for us to get to watch the match at school. Great days.

But it was an evening kick off wasnt it? memory is a bit hazy......

Ya it was an evening kick off.

Jaysus can you imagine if Denmark had scored in injury time after our result, i think we'd still be in depression.
Happy days.....hopefully they're on their way back round again. Just shows you dont need 11 top players to qualify, Alan McLoughlin would be the equivalent of Andy Keogh in the squad now, even less so. He didnt really do a whole lot else in an Irish jersey.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pauro 76

Great day that was. I may have been in 5th year at the time and I vaguely remember campaigning with teachers for us to get to watch the match at school. Great days.

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Thinking back it may have been evening kick off. I know there were definitely afternoon kick-offs in the campaign...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pauro 76

Thinking back it may have been evening kick off. I know there were definitely afternoon kick-offs in the campaign...

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It was definitely a late game. The home game against the north was an afternoon game, I was playing a rugby match for my school in waterford for it

It was an 8pm kickoff.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by tetsujin1979

It was definitely a late game. The home game against the north was an afternoon game, I was playing a rugby match for my school in waterford for it

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Yeah it was a late kick off.... I remember cursing profusely when McLoughlin came on (I was only in primary school) :o . The weather was ugly from what i can remember, high wind and heavy rain.

I still have my Spain jersey with Hierro 6 on the back :D

I was sick with nerves all week and especially all day. San Marino vs England kicked off 30 or 60 minutes earlier and the tension suddenly disappeared when San Marino scored after less than 10 seconds!

Quinn's goal was a beauty, but Alan Mc's goal was superb.

I remember Canizares in Spain's goal making an amazing save to deny Denmark during that passage of injury time.

Most, if not all our home games, were Wednesday afternoon kick offs in that campaign. Albania, Latvia, Denmark, NI, Black Wednesday (Spain 13.10.93) ...the only one I'm not certain about is Lithuania as I was out of the country but I can't see us breaking a pattern for them to be honest.

I watched the Belfast game in Nancy Spains in Cork where I was in Art College at the time. Cried like a girl when we equalised ...but then, to paraphrase Paul Whitehouse ...I was very, very drunk.

a day late but anyway here goes, i was 12 and it was probably my first proper moment where I fully understood the consequences. I Mean I remembered 90 world cup and where i was for the penalties and the matches but not as clear. Anyway I remember being with my brother and my neighbour who was my brothers age, and his father who is a long standing and wel known figure in the county GAA, came up and was talking to my father and my father asked him something like "do you think we'll win it or will they try and win it?" to which my neighbour said "ah sure they'll give it to us im sure in teh end!" and his son(my brothers age) said to us they will not don't be listening to him he doesn't have a clue :D HE was right though they didnt and I think everyone in Ireland at the time didn#'t realise, they didn't realise how much they hated us up there, and after that game a dose of reality smacked the nation in the face and maybe gave an insight into what it was like for northern nationalists at the time. ANyway back to the match, we decided to watch it in my neighbours with his father and mother(my brother would have been around 17 at the time and he was big into his weights and playing rugby), dont know where the rest of his family were, but i remember clearly when we scored, and his father(gaa man)jumping up with delight and then my brother grabbing my neighbour and lifting in flying into the air and he whacks his head off the roof and the mother jumping up and pulling at my brother to let him down. Both moments very clear in my head, both very enjoyable moments too I might add.