If we’d have overcome the Swiss
Instead of merely drawing,
Would we be thanking God like this,
Or would they call us boring?
Would everybody hail our play,
Our football free and flowing?
Or would they jump back with dismay
At where the game was going?
Would journalists write reams of prose
To praise our contribution?
Or would they nearly come to blows,
Would Kilbane, Hartey, John O’Shea
Be idolised by millions?
Worshipped for that sacred day
They scuppered the Brazilians?
Would peace descend on Johnny Giles?
Would Brady be delighted?
Would Eamonn’s face dissolve in smiles,
His love at last requited?
Would neutral fans be on our side
And will us on to glory?
Would we be borne upon the tide
To finish off the story?
Would our panache make millions wince?
Would breaths be truly bated?
Or would we have crashed out long since,
Unloved, unmourned, outdated?