In terms of stressful positions in life, being the President of the US has nothing on being an Irish football supporter.
If Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump want to prepare for the strain of life in the White House, all they have to do is turn up in Bordeaux and pull on an Irish shirt on Saturday.
For a large part of the game, there was little doubt Ireland were the better team. At full time, in contrary to how a 1-1 draw traditionally feels as an Irish fan, the result felt more like a defeat than the usual victory. It was a strange circumstance for Irish fans. We didn't know how to react.
We did not bask in the glory of a point like we did against Germany in Gelsenkirchen. The high of Wes Hoolahan's sweetly struck opening goal was negated by the failure to capitalise on the advantage.
Still, there were undoubted positives for Ireland. Mainly it was Wes Hoolahan. 'The Irish Messi' - that's what the German's dubbed him, not the Irish media.
Hoolahan was superb; the best player on the pitch, not that lanky lad with a man bun who doesn't even have a club at the moment. His touch was superb, it baffled the Swedes at times. Possibilities surged whenever he took possession. When Wes is on the pitch, the nation is happier - not just Eamon Dunphy. He's a 5' 6" Prozac for the mundanity of Irish football.
As one, the nation rose from its seat in the 48th minute when Wes' right instep met Seamus Coleman's cross with the sweetest of connections. Do half volleys get any better?
It was the culmination of what had been building since the tenth minute. Martin O'Neill's troops brought the long range artillery to the Stade de France on Monday. Jeff Hendrick's right boot was the chief weapon. Three times he unleashed menacing strikes on Andreas Isaksson's goal. The closest came after 33 minutes when a superb move led to a bending strike rattling the crossbar.
Hendrick stinging the keeper's hands and making the crossbar wobble were not his only contributions. He was also superb on the ball, rarely conceding possession and often regaining it. Premier League clubs sat up and took note with Monday evening's game. No more so than when in the first half he both brushed his hair from his face and played a pass at the same time. A certain sign he's turning into our own Andrea Pirlo.
That Wes Hoolahan was the best player on the pitch, and not Zlatan Ibrahimovic, was largely down to Glenn Whelan. Often derided, Whelan was superb. On the BBC pre-match, Gary Lineker asked how Ireland were going to deal with Ibra. Glenn Whelan was Kevin Kilbane and Martin O'Neill's answer. Some scoffed, they scoff no more. Whelan stuck to Ibrahimovic like clingfilm. Actually, clingfilm could learn a thing or two from Glenn Whelan. Before the Swedish striker lay his head down on Monday night, he undoubtedly checked under the bed for the man in the Ireland number six shirt.
Not only was Whelan key in negating Ibrahimovic's influence, he was also excellent on the ball; one of Ireland's most composed players - he even received praise from Eamon Dunphy. Usually, for a player, the only way to receive such positivity from Dunphy is to be absent from the team.
Along with Hoolahan and Hendrick, Ireland's main attacking threat came from left back. Robbie Brady continually surged forward, regularly linking up well with Hendrick. His crosses not only invite chances, they set up a four course, candle-lit dinner for them while some soft R&B music plays in the background. It's Netflix and Chill on a football pitch. The Belgians are already preparing for bombardment from the left. No doubt, Robbie Brady's delivery - from set pieces and open play - are our most likely route to goal.
Our luck - and we only required a minuscule amount of it - didn't quite hold out on Monday.
The Swedes did not even have a shot on goal, yet they found an equaliser.
1 - #SWE are the first team to score a goal without having a single shot on target in a EURO game since 1980. Lucky.
— OptaJean (@OptaJean) June 13, 2016
If that disheartens regarding our luck for the remainder of the tournament, consider this: James McClean spent 26 minutes on the pitch against Sweden and did not get booked. That's miracle territory.
