'Dad's ticket from Italia 90 was like a tourist attraction, every kid on the street wanted to see it!'

IRELAND fan and Star journalist Jackie Hennessy recalls the magical summer of 1990 as she passes on the COYBIG torch to her own children

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BUNTING. Check. Inflatable shamrock. Check. Ole ole ole Sheedy saved the day T-shirt. Check.

A quick fix of the cardboard faces suction cupped to the window...Chris Morris just won't stay put. Right...let’s go.

June 30, 1990. Tallaght. What a time to be alive! What a time to be 13 years old, a few weeks into a three-month holiday from school.

As we settled down onto the flowery blue velour couch waiting for kick off in the Stadio Olimpico in Rome, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been.

Except the Stadio Olimpico in Rome of course.

But here we were; tacky shirts, ill-fitting baseball caps (sorry Dad) and hearts bursting with pride. Nothing could stop us now.

Fast forward 38 minutes....

“Giannini, looks for..Donadoni, good parry, Schillacil!t!! Schillaci has scored again.”

And so that was that.

Five glorious matches (not necessarily glorious football), three magical weeks of joy and hope, over, brought to a heartwrenching halt by aman, who, in typical fashion, Irish football fans went on to adopt, ironically at first and then with genuine warmth and affection