A night when Mick McCarthy might have been forgiven for poking a stout index finger into the chicken chest of the fourth estate. An evening when he might have been tempted to savour his triumph in solitude. Instead he spent the headiest moments of his international management career wandering around looking for an adequate space in which to give a press conference.

It was one of those nights, in the spirit of the great times.

An ending which tugged at the nerves, heroics which stirred up the heart and a helter skelter dash to the airport in the immediate aftermath.

By the time McCarthy annexed a press room there was division in the ranks of the media. Some of them were chasing younger meat.

"Do you want Roy Keane or do you want me?" barked the manager. "Tell them it's started. I'm going in five minutes."

The media duly assembled. The slender chance of disaster has first to be considered. Any worries about losing to Romania by two dozen goals?

"It's about 10 goals, isn't it, that they have to score. Well all the best to them. It's a mathematical possibility that's all."

It wasn't an evening for mulling over that sort of thing but no tape recorder could capture the beam of vindicated pride which McCarthy's face betrayed from time to time.

"Feelings?" he said, when asked. "Maybe I'm not articulate enough to express my feelings. If you get a picture of me with a smile on my face that will tell you. That should say enough."

The smile said it adequately, alright. The reason for the smile was outside in the night air still holding court. Tony Cascarino. It has been a bumpy marriage for Mick and Tony.

"I had my doubts after Macedonia," said McCarthy, harking back to the player's lacklustre performance in Skopje. "I was very tempted to leave him out of the squad. Had a chat. The big fella has lasted. Seen a few people off. He's scored the goals that almost certainly got us into the play-offs. He looks after himself, a big guy, a good big guy . . ."

He trails off the reverie. The result is the story tonight but the performance wants placing in context. The game had ebbed away from Ireland for periods. If the manager hadn't lost faith the press box had.

"Lithuania came out strong in the second half but the goals we have conceded have either been bullets from 30 yards or penalties. I can't think of any others. To be fair, you expect the home side to have a bit of the game. I thought we dominated the game up till that. I'm not interested really. The lads have run away with the game. We won and we've hit the post and the keeper has saved well off Cas . . . we've won."

And the tactical formation. McCarthy had juggled what was left of his squad yet again, reverting to a diamond formation in midfield. "It was Hobson's choice tonight," he said, laughing. "I was always going to play a diamond. I've got no wide players and I wanted to have equal numbers in the middle. I knew they'd be good in midfield. It worked. It's great when it works."

He wrapped up his comments with a few bouquets. "The spirit of the team has been the most encouraging thing. The desire to do well. They've been questioned. Nobody will question them again. The lads were great. The young fellas were outstanding. Hartey (Ian Harte), Given, Connolly. Hartey was outstanding. I like him. I showed faith in him when other people questioned him. He's repaid that. It's amazing how many people show faith when you've won. I'll leave you on that note, lads."

He disappears into the Baltic night. Somewhere in the distance some very drunk people are singing songs about the problems of rural isolation with specific reference to pasture-lands in the Athenry region.

Great stuff.