The Hand of Gaul

And so here's my ten penneth. And I was there. So unlike everyone who has an opinion (and I don't blame them), mine is more first hand.....

So, 'it proves the pope isn't an Irish catholic*' and 'pretty sure that is the only time in French history that a flag hasn't been raised when they have their backs to the wall**' but for me, being engulfed in the atmosphere, it's more than that. There was a tangible sense of fear coupled with nationalistic pride all rolled into one with the anthem (video below) and a communal sense of 'we might coque (pun intended) this up.' A physical feeling of we need to win.

So when Robbie Keane finished off a lovely move down the wing, the Irish went insane with joy. The stadium shook. Well one tiny part in the corner did. The rest of us were in shock a sense of 'ok lads, we're properly in the merde now!'

Attacks came and went; and then after much football, much whistling and swearing, 'that goal'

And yes, I happened to have a 6th sense so was recording whilst it went in. OK, just a bit of it!

There was a 'Mon Dieu we've scored!' moment as the French (and I must confess me as well) went apoplectic with rapturous jubilation.

Then, after everything had died down, the goading of the Irish had ceased, there was a knowledge that Henry had handled. The Irish were too far away so the only people in the stadium who didn't think it wasn't a goal, were, ironically, the fans of the team who had just been knocked out!

I looked across at my dad. He was a shock. 'hand ball' he murmured. I carried on jumping up and down and then looked across a couple of minutes later. 'He cheated' came the response. My dad was right. Everything that parents across the world teach their children had been blown apart so overtly and so blatantly. There's no joy in it. Five minutes later we were on our way to the metro station. So were many others; whilst the match continued behind us all. I looked back at the stadium, knowing we'd made the right decision.

I don't know what the response will be. From FIFA, UEFA, anyone. I'm not going to pretend I know things; but I was there and had a sense of an understanding about what Henry must have felt. The pressure of 80,000 people in his face; an entire nation on his shoulders.

What I am going to finish with is I feel, and I know this may upset a few people, that if it had been the Irish who had won like France did, the Irish would have expected everyone to live with it and said it was part of the game.

I leave you with a announcement on the metro this morning from the driver that encapsulates the collective sense of embarrassment and mild shame that has gripped Paris today : (translated from French obv!)

'Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the end of the line. Would everyone please get off. I would just like to say, as a Frenchman, I am happy we are going to the world cup, but it was a handball and as a Frenchman, I would also like to apologise to the Irish as it was not a way to win a game. Have a good day.'

and the train applauded.

*My mum!

**My brother (which he probably stole from somewhere)