TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE? NOT THIS WALES TEAM
YOU’RE Just Too Good To Be True. It’s been two decades now that Wales fans have sung easy listening crooner Andy Williams’ anthem; never before have the lyrics carried so much meaning.
This is not supposed to happen to Wales, this nation of glorious failure. This is supposed to be where hope and daring to dream makes way for crushing disappointment or some heartache wrapped up in misfortune or injustice to rage about forever more.
Instead it was Northern Ireland who will talk about cruel luck after Gareth McAuley’s own goal 15 minutes from time, and Wales will continue to sing their songs of a summer too good to be true.
Instead, Wales are in the quarterfinals of the European Championships – and it feels like heaven to touch.
The song rose up into the Paris air and will now drift north towards Lille where Wales – and it feels strange to even say this – will play for a place in the semi-finals of a major tournament.
As it did so, Wales’ players were joined by their children for their celebrations in front of the Red Wall – the nickname given to the fans in France by the heroes they are carrying into history. Complete with junior No.11 on her back, the first on the turf was Gareth Bale’s eldest daughter, Alba, cheered wildly as she chased her deity-like dad around the pitch and presented to the fans as if she was the daughter of the king at the Parc de Princes. I Love You Baby.
It symbolised something, that next generation that Bale had spoken of in the build-up to this match, one inspired by what is happening in this surreal adventure. They will not talk of 58 years of hurt, but of the side that matched the last-eight heroics of John Charles and co, in their here and now and in glorious colour, exposed to the whole world. The schoolkids no longer have to search for heroes, they are finding them in France.
Do not underestimate the significance of all this, one that stretches far beyond this bubble of brilliant euphoria. The players do not, the fans who danced deliriously once more do not. Wales does not.
Of course, not all heroes have it their own way and this was the case in Paris where Wales’ poorest display of the tournament gave real fear that it would be their last.
They were either not allowed to play by Northern Ireland’s disciplined shape – which included plenty of ill-disciplined kicks that disputed rhythm – or would not play even when they had the chance. The passes were rushed in the tension and under pressure of an aggressive press. The final-third play lacked the cohesion or cleverness that was seen in Toulouse. There was just an air that Wales were going to revert to type, shrinking when the favourites’ tag is placed upon them and they have something to lose rather than everything to gain.
The defence, though, did not offer up anything silly to Northern Ireland and Wayne Hennessey impressed when he was called upon to deny Jamie Ward and command at setpieces.
With Joe Allen, frustrated at a lack of protection from English referee Martin Atkinson, squeezed out of in- fluence and Aaron Ramsey trying too hard, Bale was left just running into corridors and balls were aimed into the box with more hope than anything else.
Chris Coleman and his staff got it right again, though, when they made key changes, Jonny Williams adding the extra offensive dynamism to get Wales on the front foot and Bale clever enough to sniff out the space. A composed pass from Ramsey who finished the game in complete control, a whipped delivery from Bale and poor old McAuley wrote himself into the wrong kind of history as he stabbed