TV View: After the longest week, the game seemed to pass by in seconds. For days, this had been billed as more than a mere soccer match. It seemed as if the future of the economy, the welfare of the Taoiseach and even the survival of the Republic was on the line. In the RTÉ studio, the three wise men looked grave as they prepared to declare the official death of Irish soccer.

"I think it's sad," declared a glum Liam Brady early on.

He may well have been referring to the dismaying defeat in Cyprus last weekend and the sickening, lowlife savaging of Steve Staunton in the days that followed, or he may have been offering a more diffuse and general opinion on the modern world.

Either way, he set the tone for the evening. As ever, Chippy, the boy wonder of yesteryear, sat between the undisputed godfathers of Irish soccer punditry. John Giles looked like a kindly grandfather prepared to dispense life's harder truths in the most gentle, most fair fashion possible.

And across the way sat good old Eamon Dunphy, the Tough Guy of the Talk Game. Eamon wore his trademark ensemble of shirt, jacket and no tie, ever the lizard just wishing for his lounge. And although he was sticking to his guns, maintaining his belief that the appointment of Staunton was a catastrophic mistake on the part of John Delaney and the FAI, he was not machine- gunning the manager as many would have expected after reading his newspaper column during the week.

"He's an Irishman - he's one of us," Dunphy said at one stage, the smoky voice half-cracking in emotion.

It would be wrong to say the atmosphere in Bill O'Herlihy's Montrose studio was contrite, but from the very beginning there was something downbeat - even a sense of guilt - about the RTÉ presentation. It was as though a collective realisation had dawned that however sorry the performance in Cyprus and however culpable the manager, the treatment dished out to him by "Irishmen" was shameful and disgraceful.

The turning point might have been when Staunton, with icy and withering dignity, told, rather than asked, those attending Tuesday's press conference to leave his parents alone.

Lacking though Staunton may be in coaching badges and big-night experience, his uncomplicated Dundalk resolve was again on show last night as he promised to guide the good ship Ireland through this storm. Staunton's deadpan drawl makes him a mimic's dream and he advertised his tendency for coining unfortunate catch-phrases by promising, "I'll be here come March and we'll be marching on".

And across at Lansdowne Road - floodlit, autumnal, boisterous and special in a way that few sporting theatres in the world are - his team suggested that might yet be true.

It has been a long time since we have heard George Hamilton draw upon the higher quavers of his emotional register, but last night he was in classic form. Wee George's talent for delivering a commentary that perfectly reflects the importance and meaning of an occasion is too often taken for granted. Along with Ray Houghton, always fair and precise and snappy in his evaluations and reading, Hamilton made a fascinating night fly by.

"Ah, it's good to be in Lansdowne Road on a night like this, with an atmosphere like the good old days - we only have one more match before the wrecking ball comes in," he purred, with the old ground fairly shaking with the thrilling assurance of the new boys and the spine-tingling sight of Damien Duff peeling back the years and running at defences with the uncomplicated purity of a youngster.

Elsewhere, it took about a half an hour before George began to swoon over Paul McShane, the frowning, copper-haired young defender who took to the task of marking the behemoth Jan Koller by storm.

There were moments when the night promised to become what soccer folks like to refer to as "special".

And when Kevin Kilbane, who has been playing for Ireland since the just after the second World War, crashed home a famous goal, it felt something like the good old days.

As it turned out, Zinedine Kilbane was poked in the eye during the tumultuous celebrations. Say what you want about this Irish team, but they are not boring.

Koller spoiled the party by striking a fine equaliser. It finished 1-1 and it might have ended in dreamland, with Robbie Keane inches from heading the winning goal.

Back in studio, Dunphy was happy to put it in context.

"We haven't beaten Brazil. Let's get a grip. Look at the Czechs: Barros - Cheat. Koller- Finished. They came here looking for a pint." Or maybe he said point.

It hardly mattered. Big Stan remained stoic and Dunphy seemed to age as he noted, testily, "It won't be easy to get rid of him".