The 1998 World Cup started a month before my 10th birthday. I was coming towards the end of 3rd class in St Mary’s Boys in Lucan village.
There was a wild rumour the school would be getting computers to help with Maths and English.
I was struggling to learn the tin whistle as we came towards the end of the year. I still hear Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in my nightmares.
My mam would have collected me from school in her Ford Fiesta. I sat on a multicoloured rug in the middle of the sitting room surrounded by a yellow couch and two chairs.
It was the middle of the afternoon and while waiting to watch Scotland play Brazil I got my orange Cup Champion ball to see how many keepie-uppies I could do while sitting down. I think I managed six. Then the match started.
Ronaldinho's free-kick beats David Seaman in 2002. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
Four years later I had written ‘Roy Who?’ on a bedsheet and hung it from my bedroom window. I was sick and smothering with a cold one morning and when I woke up I’d missed Brazil knocking England out. The Ronaldinho free kick. My parents had a small TV in their room and I got into their bed to watch football for the day. I’ve been mesmerised by Ronaldinho ever since.
*****
Ciarán Kennedy
Ireland v Germany, 2002. I’m 12 years old, and the TV has been wheeled into the classroom.
Loads of us are wearing Ireland jerseys, and I’ve been down to the Blanchardstown Centre and had KEANE 10 printed on the back of mine.
Robbie Keane wheels away after scoring against Germany. INPHO
INPHO
When the man in question gets on the end of Niall Quinn’s knock-on and puts the ball in the German net, we all go mad. At some point I’m lifted as if I am Robbie Keane. Later that day we’re all outside trying to reenact it.
World Cups are magic.
*****
Ronan Early
Not an original moment to go for, but Maradona’s second against England is the one that is most vivid through the years. I can remember Jimmy Magee’s commentary – “different class” – then grabbing my football and heading for the door.
The football was a funny thing, I think we got it from some kind of promotion at the old Shell garage in Douglas village. It was massive – closer in size to a basketball, with a picture of Pique, the Mexico 86 mascot, on the plastic. Anyway, I felt compelled to go out and dribble up and down the road with the grace, in my imagination at least, of Maradona.
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At some stage I remember catching a glimpse of a TV through a window, with a big score flashed up. It looked like England were no longer nil, so I ran home to watch the last few minutes, and can remember Lineker just failing to meet a cross from John Barnes, who was giving Argentina the runaround down the left.
I’ve seen a lot of good stuff in World Cups and sport in the 40 years since, but nothing comes close to the power of Maradona. It’s possible that’s just an age thing, and the one you see first is the most impressive. But I doubt it. More likely he was just the best, and we were lucky.
*****
Emma Duffy
Katie McCabe’s Olimpico at Ireland’s first Women’s World Cup in 2024. The rain was lashing down in Perth, the stadium was packed with Irish fans, it may as well have been Tallaght. I momentarily forgot where I was and had to stop myself banging on the table in the press box. What a moment.
Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
My Irish memory of the men’s tournament is extremely hazy. It’s cliché, but the television being rolled into the classroom in 2002. Damien Duff’s bow. I genuinely don’t remember much else. Zidane’s headbutt while watching on at the Primary School Gaeltacht in 2006 was slightly more vivid!
*****
Paul Fennessy
It has to be 1994, the summer I turned seven.
At that age, you genuinely do think football is a matter of life or death.
To put things in perspective, a few weeks before the tournament, when Man United beat Chelsea 4-0 in the FA Cup final, I wept like a baby (although to be fair, I was a baby only a few years previously). I didn’t even support Chelsea, I just really wanted them to win that day.
I was increasingly confident, though, that Ireland would make up for that disappointment by winning the World Cup.
The pre-tournament friendlies more or less confirmed my suspicions.
The first Ireland match I ever watched was the 1-1 draw at Windsor Park that qualified the team for the World Cup so success was all I knew at that point.
They then followed that with wins over Netherlands, Bolivia and Germany. The latter were the reigning world champions. My soon-to-be-seven-year-old brain did the math. Ireland had beaten the world champions, therefore they must be the best team in the world.
Best of all was the 1-0 win in Giants Stadium over an Italy team that seemed to mostly comprise of the Milan players that had just thrashed Barcelona 4-0 in the Champions League final.
My youngest sister had been born a day previously, which at the time I viewed as an amusing precursor to the main event.
I have maybe 40-50 vivid memories from the first seven years of my life, and one of them is celebrating ecstatically with my dad (presumably while my mum was still in hospital) in our living room, as Ray Houghton put the ball in the Italian net.
I don’t really have the heart to get into what happened next, but let’s just say Ireland didn’t win the World Cup and life gets more disappointing as you grow older.
*****
Declan Bogue
Ireland v Cameroon, 2002. The build-up to this was insane, with Saipan and the whole carry-on. Working in an Irish newspaper in London at the time, I’d say it constituted 99% of my conversations.
Gaining entry to The Inn On The Green in Palmer’s Green for a 7.30am kick-off and seeing the pop-up Fleadh inside was, to my mind, no finer recreation.
Mattie Holland’s equaliser prompted a sea of humanity losing their shit altogether.
Matt Holland in action against Cameroon. INPHO
INPHO
A stroll home at lunchtime felt glorious with English people actually congratulating us on the result.
I got home, lay on the grass outside, and fell asleep in baking sun, getting some nice sunstroke for my trouble.
*****
Gareth Lyons
Aged 10, the 2010 World Cup finals were the first that I was old enough to be completely hooked by and the Spanish island of Menorca was a pretty ideal place to be on holiday as Vincente del Bosque’s Spain paved their way through to the competition’s decider.
It was also the location of one of my most immoral moments.
Spain celebrate after the 2010 World Cup. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
On the night of the final over 20 of us from different Irish, English and Scottish families congregated together, with roughly 75% in the local Spanish camp, while a few mates and I were kitted out in Dutch tops.
What I didn’t share with my comrades was that hidden beneath my orange jersey was a Spain one, just in case.
When Andrés Iniesta scored that famous extra-time goal to clinch the Jules Rimet Trophy, I quietly excused myself from the table and returned without a trace of my Wesley Sneijder shirt.
16 years later, my betrayal is still brought up at home as a stick to beat me with.
No regrets.
*****
What’s your favourite World Cup moment? Let us know in the comments section below.
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Maradona, Ronaldinho, Keane – and reenacting them: Our favourite World Cup moments
David Sneyd
The 1998 World Cup started a month before my 10th birthday. I was coming towards the end of 3rd class in St Mary’s Boys in Lucan village.
There was a wild rumour the school would be getting computers to help with Maths and English.
I was struggling to learn the tin whistle as we came towards the end of the year. I still hear Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in my nightmares.
My mam would have collected me from school in her Ford Fiesta. I sat on a multicoloured rug in the middle of the sitting room surrounded by a yellow couch and two chairs.
It was the middle of the afternoon and while waiting to watch Scotland play Brazil I got my orange Cup Champion ball to see how many keepie-uppies I could do while sitting down. I think I managed six. Then the match started.
Four years later I had written ‘Roy Who?’ on a bedsheet and hung it from my bedroom window. I was sick and smothering with a cold one morning and when I woke up I’d missed Brazil knocking England out. The Ronaldinho free kick. My parents had a small TV in their room and I got into their bed to watch football for the day. I’ve been mesmerised by Ronaldinho ever since.
*****
Ciarán Kennedy
Ireland v Germany, 2002. I’m 12 years old, and the TV has been wheeled into the classroom.
Loads of us are wearing Ireland jerseys, and I’ve been down to the Blanchardstown Centre and had KEANE 10 printed on the back of mine.
When the man in question gets on the end of Niall Quinn’s knock-on and puts the ball in the German net, we all go mad. At some point I’m lifted as if I am Robbie Keane. Later that day we’re all outside trying to reenact it.
World Cups are magic.
*****
Ronan Early
Not an original moment to go for, but Maradona’s second against England is the one that is most vivid through the years. I can remember Jimmy Magee’s commentary – “different class” – then grabbing my football and heading for the door.
The football was a funny thing, I think we got it from some kind of promotion at the old Shell garage in Douglas village. It was massive – closer in size to a basketball, with a picture of Pique, the Mexico 86 mascot, on the plastic. Anyway, I felt compelled to go out and dribble up and down the road with the grace, in my imagination at least, of Maradona.
At some stage I remember catching a glimpse of a TV through a window, with a big score flashed up. It looked like England were no longer nil, so I ran home to watch the last few minutes, and can remember Lineker just failing to meet a cross from John Barnes, who was giving Argentina the runaround down the left.
I’ve seen a lot of good stuff in World Cups and sport in the 40 years since, but nothing comes close to the power of Maradona. It’s possible that’s just an age thing, and the one you see first is the most impressive. But I doubt it. More likely he was just the best, and we were lucky.
*****
Emma Duffy
Katie McCabe’s Olimpico at Ireland’s first Women’s World Cup in 2024. The rain was lashing down in Perth, the stadium was packed with Irish fans, it may as well have been Tallaght. I momentarily forgot where I was and had to stop myself banging on the table in the press box. What a moment.
My Irish memory of the men’s tournament is extremely hazy. It’s cliché, but the television being rolled into the classroom in 2002. Damien Duff’s bow. I genuinely don’t remember much else. Zidane’s headbutt while watching on at the Primary School Gaeltacht in 2006 was slightly more vivid!
*****
Paul Fennessy
It has to be 1994, the summer I turned seven.
At that age, you genuinely do think football is a matter of life or death.
To put things in perspective, a few weeks before the tournament, when Man United beat Chelsea 4-0 in the FA Cup final, I wept like a baby (although to be fair, I was a baby only a few years previously). I didn’t even support Chelsea, I just really wanted them to win that day.
I was increasingly confident, though, that Ireland would make up for that disappointment by winning the World Cup.
The pre-tournament friendlies more or less confirmed my suspicions.
The first Ireland match I ever watched was the 1-1 draw at Windsor Park that qualified the team for the World Cup so success was all I knew at that point.
They then followed that with wins over Netherlands, Bolivia and Germany. The latter were the reigning world champions. My soon-to-be-seven-year-old brain did the math. Ireland had beaten the world champions, therefore they must be the best team in the world.
Best of all was the 1-0 win in Giants Stadium over an Italy team that seemed to mostly comprise of the Milan players that had just thrashed Barcelona 4-0 in the Champions League final.
My youngest sister had been born a day previously, which at the time I viewed as an amusing precursor to the main event.
I have maybe 40-50 vivid memories from the first seven years of my life, and one of them is celebrating ecstatically with my dad (presumably while my mum was still in hospital) in our living room, as Ray Houghton put the ball in the Italian net.
I don’t really have the heart to get into what happened next, but let’s just say Ireland didn’t win the World Cup and life gets more disappointing as you grow older.
*****
Declan Bogue
Ireland v Cameroon, 2002. The build-up to this was insane, with Saipan and the whole carry-on. Working in an Irish newspaper in London at the time, I’d say it constituted 99% of my conversations.
Gaining entry to The Inn On The Green in Palmer’s Green for a 7.30am kick-off and seeing the pop-up Fleadh inside was, to my mind, no finer recreation.
Mattie Holland’s equaliser prompted a sea of humanity losing their shit altogether.
A stroll home at lunchtime felt glorious with English people actually congratulating us on the result.
I got home, lay on the grass outside, and fell asleep in baking sun, getting some nice sunstroke for my trouble.
*****
Gareth Lyons
Aged 10, the 2010 World Cup finals were the first that I was old enough to be completely hooked by and the Spanish island of Menorca was a pretty ideal place to be on holiday as Vincente del Bosque’s Spain paved their way through to the competition’s decider.
It was also the location of one of my most immoral moments.
On the night of the final over 20 of us from different Irish, English and Scottish families congregated together, with roughly 75% in the local Spanish camp, while a few mates and I were kitted out in Dutch tops.
What I didn’t share with my comrades was that hidden beneath my orange jersey was a Spain one, just in case.
When Andrés Iniesta scored that famous extra-time goal to clinch the Jules Rimet Trophy, I quietly excused myself from the table and returned without a trace of my Wesley Sneijder shirt.
16 years later, my betrayal is still brought up at home as a stick to beat me with.
No regrets.
*****
What’s your favourite World Cup moment? Let us know in the comments section below.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
2026 world cup Football Reeling In The Years Soccer Turn back time