Dreamland for Breen the one-team man

The totems are beginning to change in the Irish camp. No more thoughts of Roy Keane, no more tilting at Ireland's wilful self-destruction, no more "wanted" posters on the streets of Dublin. Not when Ireland have the likes of Gary Breen to carry them through.

Breen is London-born, one of the Anglo-Irish contingent so mocked by the former Irish captain. In the concrete hallway which doubles as the interview area beneath the stadium here late on Thursday, you searched for the merest inflection of Ireland. You will find none in the accent of Breen nor much hint of an international pedigree, for that matter. The voice is pure south London, the career metropolitan: Maidstone United, Peterborough, Gillingham, then Birmingham City and Coventry City.

But the crazy, chaotic, mad, mad world of the Irish seemed embodied in the slender, unremarkable frame of a player who, when this tournament ends – today, tomorrow, whenever – has no club to welcome him home. Unattached, they call that in golf. Gary Breen (unattached) is how he is described on the teamsheet.

The Irish team went to Disney on Thursday, an appropriate pleasuredome for a side embarked on their own rollercoaster ride. Yokohama is the next stop and a match which could skew the radar, a match against the twice-beaten Saudis they are expected to win. Ireland hate the idea of being favourites. It is just not in the blood. But provided their forwards start where they left off against Germany, in the final minute of injury time, the Irish heritage trail can anticipate at least one more stop.

Some players diminish, some emerge under the peculiar pressures of a World Cup. At the age of 29, Breen has left it late. But even granted a little bias on the speaker's part, the assertion of a former Irish international on the way out of Ibaraki on Thursday was not so wide of the mark. "You know," he said. "I've not seen a better centre-half in this tournament than Gary Breen." You stifled a laugh at the thought, but in thwarting the aerial power of Carsten Jancker and, for all but a moment which was not his fault, of Miroslav Klose, in cutting down the runs and blocking off the space, the much maligned Coventry defender had fully justified the faith of Mick McCarthy.

On the eve of the game, Breen could barely walk, so tight was his hamstring. On the following morning, he felt better, but the important fact was that McCarthy waited on his fitness. That made Breen feel big. By the afternoon, only a locked cell would have stopped him playing.

"I know my own body pretty well," he says. "So, to be honest, I was surprised that I recovered so fast. I'd really prepared myself for the disappointment of missing out on the biggest game of my life. I was lucky to get out there. It was only afterwards when the adrenalin stopped pumping that I began to feel a bit sore."

In the closing moments of what promised to be a desperate night, Breen had run over to collect the ball for an Irish throw-in. The seconds were ticking away and a German player, sensing victory, kicked the ball further away. Breen was furious, an unusual state for a placid man. "So when we scored," he laughed, "I took great pleasure in going and celebrating right in front of him." Klose, it was, the goalscorer, and Breen's exaggerated bow was Japanese class.

"I'm not much of an emotional person," Breen said later that night. "But this has to be the greatest night of my career. Ten years ago, I'd have been watching at home and dreaming of playing. Now I'm here and there are plenty of lads back home dreaming of taking our places."

Not long ago, Breen's prospects of making the Irish squad seemed equally distant. Kenny Cunningham was the rock in the Irish defence, Steve Staunton was out of favour, Richard Dunne was a popular deputy and injury – and Coventry's never-ending struggles – had deprived Breen of a realistic chance of reassessment. A dearth of quality centre-halves might see Breen named in the squad, but not as a certain starter. Not many in the Irish press mourned the loss. Breen was inconsistent, a decent ball-playing centre-back on his day, but always prone to error, certainly not reliable enough to be a World Cup centre-back. Perhaps he was one of those intimidated by the presence of Roy Keane. You would never get him to admit it, only that against Germany he enjoyed himself more than at any other time in his 40 internationals.

"I've had some other good games," he says. "But to do it on the world stage is something else. If I wasn't here, I'd be jumping all over the place in the stadium or back home watching. It's just something I've always dreamed of." And in the Harvey Nichols of shop windows, too.

"That's the idea," laughs Breen. "You can't have a better shop window, can you? But this isn't a personal agenda, it's all about Ireland. I've served out my contract at Coventry and though they've offered me a new one, I've been there five years and I think my future lies elsewhere now. But I'll worry about what happens next when all this is over."

You can believe him. McCarthy was at pains last week to point out that passion and spirit are not the only Irish strengths. "We've got a few who can play, you know," he said. Breen can be counted among their number now. Unattached maybe, but not unwanted.