THIS wasn't stylish, it wasn't just like watching Brazil and, let's be honest, it wasn't great to watch for long spells.

Effort and passion: check.

Eleven guys who ran their little legs off: check. A deserved win: just about. But for what seemed like ages and ages there was no hint of what you might call flow to Ireland's play or enough passes strung together that'd tend to lead to chances. In the end, it was a day for grinding, working and the generally unsexy side of things with the one or two moments that came off-the-cuff (we're thinking Stephen Ireland's run, Robbie Keane's find) enough to stand out and more importantly, enough to win this one. 'Cos during a few months where Steve Staunton's been written off more times than a boyracer's motor, a win'll do for now.

Even if it came over a very average, very limited Wales.

The formation didn't help the whole fluency issue . . . with Wales set up to defend deep and three centre-halves clogging up the spaces, Duff and Keane had little enough room to run into and all too often the pass of choice was the long hopeful one, rather than anything more controlled.

A few examples. First 10 minutes, ball at Lee Carsley's feet around halfway, when he takes a glance forwards, there simply ain't any options worth a second look with Duff and Keane both inside their own halves. End result . . . sideways ball. Quarter hour or so later, Steve Finnan lamps a high ball on top of Duff and James Collins . . . no option, no contest.

A couple of minutes after that, Shay Given twice takes the ball out of his area and with 20 or so players taking shelter in the centre-circle lashes two crossfield balls onto Kevin Kilbane's head.

One is headed away, the one Kilbane knocks on is gobbled up with no Irish player in sight. Truth was, the Irish midfield of Carsley/ Douglas/ Kilbane was eastern europe in the 80s: more about industry than creation, more sweat than inspiration. If it's the sweet art you're after, it probably wasn't the place to be.

Ireland (Stephen now, not the team) might just have been the exception with a bit of composure amid the helter-skelterness of everyone else. Where balls were tossed away by others with a carelessness that suggested they knew it'd be coming back all too soon, the young midfielder was stingy with his football (not that it was a perfect 10 now . . . there is a tendency to look for the killer pass once too often and being stuck on the right didn't get him on the ball too often, but that'd be nitpicking).

What we got was little touches, little signals of intent. One pass over the shoulder of Gareth Bale into Duff 's run here, a curled chip over the top that landed into Robbie Keane's path there.

It's fair to say if there was going to be death by passing, it was the spidervision of Ireland that'd cause it. Oh and you can add the what'sthe-big-deal coolness to round the keeper and slot home when guys with more experience would've fallen to pieces with so much time to ponder. His third goal of the campaign no less, and a possibility we now have the scoring midfielder who's been lacking in Irish football for the longest time.

And in a week where a certain former player wasn't so backward about coming forward with names of those bigger names perhaps not pulling their weight, plenty spotlights fell on what was essentially the front two for the opening hour.

Robbie Keane did what Robbie Keane does, all energy and running deep for possession, a few chances passed up and then a piece of magic . . . effective, one-touch magic at that . . . for an assist. Twice in the opening half Keane snatched at shots on goal . . .

one half-chance, one better than that . . . where a bit of calm finishing was called for.

Duff was a bit of a mixed bag himself, still the guy who looked most like taking someone on, still the one who's got a bit of zip with the ball at his feet, still lifting bums off seats even if he's not putting as many bums on the grass as he used.

All the same, the opening period reads like Duffer vs the Welsh with a mix of runs at defenders and crosses whipped in, but nobody to knock in a finish. Pity that, cos space did tend to open up on those occasions Duff got a run at the Welsh defence . . .

usually from some broken play or a loose ball than any great build-up.

Not that there was any real hint of a link-up between the two frontmen either - it was all too random and haphazard for all that. There were little cameos more than once in the opening half, Duff and Keane out on the same wing passing to each other with nobody more central to sling a ball into.

Once before the break, Duff got central, got turned . . .which were his most dangerous moments . . . and put Keane into the right channel but it came to nought. By the second period, when Wales were picking up most of what was going and Ireland were getting only the odd break, we saw less and less of the two as an attacking force.

As we said, all too random and haphazard at times, and without any real sense of what we were at. But just enough in the end.