Mick McCarthy celebrates reaching the Finals.

By Frank Malley, PA Chief Sports Writer

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Mick McCarthy's voice trembled with emotion, his eyes were moist with a combination of smoke and sentiment but his words were measured.

"I am immensely proud," said the Republic of Ireland manager. "It is so difficult to come straight off the pitch and articulate how I feel but it is wonderful, wonderful. We have had to dig deep in adversity but they have stuck together as a group of players and people. People fight in wars but, in football terms, to me my lads are heroes."

And so another amazing Irish World Cup odyssey was born amid the smoke and bonfires of the Azadi stadium in Tehran after a 2-1 aggregate triumph in the qualifying play-off against Iran had seen the Republic take their place in Group E in Japan and Korea next summer.

Not a pint was to be found that night in Islamic Tehran but it is a safe bet the travelling Irish fans threw a party every bit as intoxicating as that back in Tipperary as they drank in the heady euphoria of qualifying for a leading tournament for the first time in McCarthy's six-year reign.

No-one appreciates success quite like the Irish. No-one respects their success quite like genuine football lovers for whom the Republic of Ireland have represented a blend of pure passion and against-all-odds excitement ever since Jack Charlton, McCarthy's predecessor, guided them to their first-ever World Cup finals match in Italia 1990 - a 1-1 draw with England.

True, there were the jokes and the early put-downs, most of them directed at Charlton's trawl of the English divisions for anyone with an Irish grandmother or grandfather who could be coerced into wearing a green jersey.

Charlton, who unashamedly exploited FIFA's soft laws on the requirements for players' international status, unearthed plenty willing to pledge their allegiance to the cause for the chance of a fleeting place in the sun on the international stage.

Men such as Andy Townsend, Terry Phelan, John Aldridge, Tommy Coyne and Tony Cascarino all joined Big Jack's jolly green revolution - and little did they care about cracks from the likes of then-Wales manager Mike England who quipped: "If you have a fortnight's holiday in Dublin you qualify for an Eire cap."

Little did the Irish themselves care that few who lined up for international duty could mouth the national anthem.

They were too enchanted by the success distilled by the pragmatism of Charlton - a man who had won the World Cup with England at Wembley in 1966 and who was taking them to places they had only dreamed about.

Who can forget the grimace on Charlton's face, unable to watch as David O'Leary slid home the sudden-death penalty in the second-round shoot-out against Romania in 1990, or the delirium which followed when it sunk in they had reached the quarter-finals?

Who can forget Ray Houghton's spectacular volley to beat Italy in their first match in the United States in 1994?

Or the fiasco of 'Watergate' the same year when a feisty Charlton strove desperately to break officious red tape to get fluid to his men amid the heat of a steaming summer's afternoon against Mexico and a demented John Aldridge strode the touchline seemingly coaching the world's soccer viewers in Anglo Saxon?

Charlton's confrontation with that jobsworth FIFA official makes him see crimson even today.

"Nobody ever asks the players or the managers what they think before changing the rules," says Charlton. "They are just inflicted on us.

"Take that nonsense over the water. We had FIFA putting referees under pressure to keep the games going and the medical people telling us if players didn't take water every 15 minutes they were likely to go into a coma.

"I went to Washington that World Cup to watch the Norway-Mexico game and was shown into the VIP area, with all the FIFA people, which was all air-conditioned and with plenty of food and wine and iced water. When the game started, I found myself sitting behind Joao Havelange, the FIFA president.

"We were all given two bottles of iced water and after about 20 minutes more water and iced towels. I said, loudly enough for Havelange to hear me, 'How wonderful it was to get all this when the players couldn't get a drink'.

"It was a crazy way to treat players in that heat when they were being put in danger. The trouble was FIFA wouldn't admit they were wrong. We had Ray Houghton booked for picking up a water bag and running a few yards with it. You don't need that hassle."

The images, curling a little now at the edges, are an unforgettable reminder of the most uniquely inspiring times in Irish football history for which the Freedom of Dublin was conferred on Charlton, who has never had to buy a pint or a cigarette in the country since.

The glorious end, Charlton would always argue, justified the means which at times were pragmatic to the point of being primal. "Much more of this and our legs will be worn down to stumps," Aldridge observed after one particularly exhausting training session in 1989.

Not surprising when you learn Charlton's strategy was based on a blueprint he borrowed from a manager called Graham Carr at Northampton Town when they were top of the English Third Division in the 80s.

"When the goalkeeper had the ball the rest of the Northampton team had five seconds to get into the other team's half," said Charlton.

"The goalkeeper kicked it long and if it was headed back the opposition would be offside.

"Northampton put teams under pressure by getting the ball quickly into areas behind defenders and making them turn. They don't like that at any level in the game. It was a simple way of playing that brought the Irish success for nine out of my 10 years. Then FIFA changed the rules again, stopped goalkeepers from picking up the ball and our style had to be changed."

But this is McCarthy's time and the truth is that his team is blessed with more artists and genuinely talented players than Charlton's - Roy Keane, Robbie Keane, Ian Harte, Niall Quinn. Their vision is broader, their instincts more attractive than the long game practitioners of the Nineties.

Yet, amid the style, they have retained enough steel to have eclipsed Holland in their qualifying group and survived the traumas of Tehran.

Ireland, unlike the jingoistic English who blindly gallop into every tournament as if the opposition will lay down in their path, understand the dangers of over-confidence and unrealistic expectation. The miserable memory of defeat in their 1998 World Cup play-off in Turkey still smarts.

They also know that anything is possible if they punch above their weight and their coaches leave nothing to chance.

The adventure of a lifetime awaits McCarthy and his men in Japan and Korea - don't be surprised if they write another chapter in the pluck of the Irish.