Despite the protestations to the contrary, one suspects that the mental scars of Gary Breen's last visit to the Balkans haven't yet fully healed.

Breen, nudged as he climbed to meet the cross from the left with his head, failed to make the decisive header and quicker than it takes to yell Yugoslavia were in for the goal which decided last November's Group Eight game in the Red Star Stadium in Belgrade.

Initially, the accusations pointed in the direction of Steve Staunton, positioned immediately behind the Coventry player. But when the television replays were analysed for the umpteenth time, the blame, it was argued, was collective. "It was disappointing because we had defended so well all evening and then, out of nothing, the game was gone from us," said Breen. "Just as no forward likes to be accused of missing a strike, defenders get annoyed when they concede a sloppy goal.

"But the most hurtful thing was the inference that I somehow cocked up in every game. That was out of order and I like to think that I've put that little myth to rest with my performances in the games which followed."

The majority of the Ireland team supporters would, I suspect, attest to that as they watched the Coventry player fight his way back. Ironically, it was his decision to go to Belgrade, or rather the club game he missed after Mick McCarthy had insisted on the implementation of the five-day rule, which put him in bother with Coventry manager Gordon Strachan.

It was more than three months later that the club's growing injury problems rather than an outbreak of benevolence in Strachan's office prompted a change of heart. Breen's response was to grab the chance of proving that in another trying season at Highfield Road, his talent was one of Coventry's more obvious assets.

In Yugoslavia 10 months ago, Breen and his customary partner at the centre of Ireland's defence, Kenny Cunningham, were set the treacherous task of eliminating the threat presented by two of Europe's more feared strikers, Predrag Mijatoviv and Savo Milosevic.

Now the task awaiting the unlikely couple tonight is no less demanding.

Davor Suker's pace and quality of finish in the penalty area established him as one of the prime successes of France '98. And if the absence of Serie A player Alen Boksic is welcomed by the Irish, his replacement, Josip Simic, a brother of wing back Dario, is regarded as no slouch.

Just as Cunningham started out on his Ireland career as a right back, Breen is now filling the number two position for Coventry. Breen's preferred position is centre back but as he is quick to acknowledge, the primary concern is to make the first team in any role.

That inability to nail down a regular place in his specialist position baffles his Ireland partner as he watches from afar in Wimbledon. "You watch him train and play for Ireland and then you try to reconcile the fact that he is not assured of his game for Coventry every week. It just doesn't make sense," says Cunningham.

From an improbable base, this partnership has prospered with time. And now, as they make ready for one of the biggest challenges of all, Mick McCarthy is suitably appreciative of their complementary qualities.

"They fit as snug as a glove and with their exceptional competitive qualities you know you're going to get 101 per cent from them, every time they pull on an Ireland shirt."

Mark you, there were times during their joint conference yesterday, when they were unmistakably out of sync. Asked on the role he'd fill, Breen said: "I expect that I'll ge be given the job of getting to the knock-ons ahead of Suker.

But the other side of the partnership saw it differently: "Gary's great strength is in the air. I mean four times out of five he'll win the ball there. And that's very reassuring for the player tidying up behind him."

A one-off case of crossed lines, perhaps, but this evening the men whom McCarthy likes to call his Mr Dependables will be entrusted with the responsibility for discharging two very important important briefs. On their ability to deliver may depend a sizeable hunk of a nation's expectations.