What do we need reault wise to get pot 2
Is it not an open draw, no?
1v4
2v3
In the semi finals
I honestly donât give a fuck. Weâre in the draw and thatâs all that counts*
*We need the easiest draw possible
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Great vindication for TFK. We knew Spock Kenny was out his depth straight away but we backed HH to the hilt and have been rewarded for it in spades.
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I love you too, I think youâre a great poster.
However I also love Caoimhin Kelleher and think heâs a great goalkeeper so that shows what I know
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Festy and Azaz are the most ridiculous players youâd see. Ridiculous with the sublime
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What number are we? No home fixture i assume?
Whatâs it based on I wonder? Iâd imagine we could go up a good 10 or 15 places in the rankings based on those 2 results
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The European Play-Offs will be made up of 12 group runners-up and the four best-ranked UEFA Nations League section winners. The 16 teams who enter will be drawn into four play-off paths, with four teams in each. Play-off matches will be played in single-leg semi-finals followed by single-leg finals to decide Europeâs final four FIFA World Cup 2026 participants.
To ensure both draws can be conducted in accordance with the relevant draw procedures, the next edition of the FIFA/Coca-Cola Menâs World Ranking will be published on Wednesday, 19 November 2025.
The actual WC draw takes place in December. How will that work in relation to the 4 European play off winners? Placeholders of some sort?
Johnny Kenny has that happy knack of getting free in the box. Heâd a simple tap in for parrots second goal.
He could be a real addition.
The Playoffs are drawn into paths. So itâll be PathA winner
PathB winner etc
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That was one of the greatest games of football I have ever seen. Last night I had a gander at Ireland v Holalnd in Gelsenkirchen and thought to myself âthatâs the most impressive cauldron Iâve ever seen an Ireland team play inâ. Giants Stadium ran it close, this beat it.
That stadium was a cauldron. A colesseum. Built by the Nazi bastard Orban. They were loud, very loud. But this enhanced the BIGNESS factor x 100.
The game was chaos. This was completely different to what I expected, I had expected a tight, tense game. I think the stadium and the crowd affected how the game was played.
There was always something in me which thought âif we have one attack at the end where one goal will win it, we might just do itâ. A million thoughts went through you during that. But it was the sort of game where never gave up hope. Ireland had a demeanour of the grim reaper about them. That was because Hungary always, always offered the smell of blood, they always offered the scent of weakness. When yopur opponent does that, you always have a chance.
Of all the moments following Ireland, those three seconds were the best, the most emotional. The difference between winning and losing, the difference between elimination and the road to New York.
Robbie Keaneâs goal against Germany was great, but there wasnât the same stark difference between scoring it and not scoring it. Stuttgart and New Jersey and 1/9/01 and Lille were great, but they were gradual unfoldings of glory. 17/11/93 in Belfast was the greatest outpuring of relief, but it was relief above all.
The penalty shoot out in Genoa is the one that compares, if anything can compare. But that was a bog standard penalty shoot out.
This goal compares with the all time great last gasp goals. Michael Thomas, 26/5/99, Iniesta. Moura. Kostadinov.
The âit can never be levelâ dynamic yet again showed why it so great.
Even if weâd lost I was going to say it was an Irish performance you could be utterly proud of. Azaz, veering between brillance and shambles, Collins doing the same. Bloopers solid as a rock. Manningâs energy. Scales, the wolfhound, the beating heart of Irishness. Festy, offering something, youâre not sure what, but he did offer something, shit throws which went straight to their defender, but also causing confusion.
I looked at Tony Cascarino goals last night and of all the goals my oulâ fella ever celebrated, Tony Cascarinoâs header against England on November 14th, 1990 was the one me oulâ fella always said he celebrated most, as he watched it alone on an extended lunch break at his Mamâs house in Drumcondra.
Ray Houghtonâs goal against Italy was the goal I celebrated most in my life. I ran out onto the street in me bare feet and had virtual sex with me neighbour from two doors up.
But today was close. There were no inhibitions about shouting and screaming. It was visceral.
Saint Troy has been sent from another world. You canât say anything else.
I am Irish and Iâm a Dub and I love being a Dub and I love being Irish.
Thank you Heimir, thank you team, thank you TROY.
I want to cry now and I want to drink alcohol.
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We scared the shit of my 1 year old with the commotion.
Worth it.
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