WHAT is it about Republic of Ireland soccer players of a certain vintage that we'll forgive them almost any misdemeanour. They all have their saving graces: Packie Bonner . . . "Timoftei against Bonner, yah. . ."; Paul McGrath . . . sure God love him; Niall Quinn . . . Mr Positivity; Ray Houghton . . . "Who put the ball in the England net?"; Tony Cascarino . . . gas character; Mick McCarthy . . . careful now; Steve Staunton . . . eh, maybe this is the wrong week for this.

Anyway, in case you were stranded on the mainland last Sunday, John Aldridge cakewalked the Charity You're A Star competition.

We couldn't quite put our finger on what Aldridge has that your average Joe hasn't, so we looked for Mna na hEireann's voice. On the Air's mother in Donegal didn't see the programme because the telly's on the blink and instead we learned about somebody, can't quite remember his name, who was beginning "to dote". Desperate times call for desperate measures: the mother-in-law, who could fill in for Linda Martin at the drop of a hat.

"He doesn't have a note in his head, " she said, referring to Aldridge and not the 'doting' fella. "But he had a good charity, the Temple Street Children's Hospital." And then the truth came blurting out: "He has a certain. . . something, " and we're sure we heard a quiver in her voice.

Buoyed by the 'Ole, Ole' crowd and the cuffs on his magnificent shirts, we can't remember sartorial excellence and singing of this quality since Glenn Hoddle and Chris Waddle's era-defining performance on Top of the Pops in 1987.

It seems that somebody somewhere got a hold of Aldridge before the programme, maybe played 'Eye of the Tiger' and got him to run up and down the stairs or something, because his rendition of 'Lily the Pink' will go down as one of the most awkwardly brilliant pieces of televised singing in history. It'll also be a surefire number one hit when it's released in the next few weeks.

Talking of new departures, how about this from Gary Lineker at the start of the BBC's coverage of the England v Greece friendly on Wednesday: "It's a new era for England with a new look, a new captain and a new manager. Good." Cue slow-mo of Sven Goran Eriksson looking gormless at the World Cup. The moratorium, it seems, is most certainly over. Leading the European champions 4-0 at half-time, Lineker and Alan Shearer could hardly contain their excitement, but a special mention must go to Ian Wright, who was really quite professional in his assessment of the game. Shearer, meanwhile, picked out Rio Ferdinand's footballing ability as part of his analysis. "This is one of Rio's strengths, " said the former England captain, while looking at a clip of Ferdinand galloping out of defence, all over the shop. "He's very comfortable on the ball, he loves coming out." Maybe we're asking too much, but is 45 minutes not enough time to identify a relevant clip?

On Sky, Jason McAteer . . . once an Amigo, always an Amigo . . . made a good fist of putting a positive spin on the Republic of Ireland's worst home defeat for 40 years against Holland. Ireland are in a "transitional period", the Dutch "underachieved at the World Cup", the usual platitudes. Meanwhile, Frank Stapleton . . . just the goals, m'lord . . . struggled, in his own particular way, to put the result into context. "It's pretty hard to take. That's probably one of the hardest commentaries I've ever had, " he said. "It was embarrassing at times. . .

That [performance] told us a few home truths."

So, we had a taste of Dutch gold and saw a few Greeks bearing gifts, but in a week when TV analysts and tabloid newspapers went OTT in their reaction to two pre-season international friendlies, it's perhaps important to remember another cliche: paper never refuses ink.

A quick note on an ad that's been bugging us for the last couple of weeks. The dude who normally sits on the On the Air couch rowed into Corporate Avenue a couple of weeks back, but we're sticking our oar in anyway. Look, we know the course that Padraig Harrington is forced to play during the O2 Ryder Cup promotion is difficult. For one, it's under water (sort of) and the Dubliner also has to negotiate narrow streets, a few bridges, Brian O'Driscoll's car and the Luas line on his way to the hole. But he unashamedly accepts adulation from the crowd for a couple of his five shots.

Five shots. That's a par, at best, on any course. We must have missed the conference where the suits decided it's okay to promote mediocrity again.