Super Kev article

It wasn't Kilbane's fault, of course. Nor was it his fault that he isn't Allan Johnston, which is what Sunderland fans seemed to hold against him almost as soon as he arrived at the Stadium of Light from West Brom in December 1999. A jinking wideman with a neat line in flamboyant finishes, Johnston was a crowd pleaser par excellence. But love from the Mackem masses wasn't enough for this Scot, who, perhaps in the belief that the club would plunge straight out of the Premiership after promotion, made it clear he'd no intention of renewing his soon-to-expire contract and began angling for an immediate move to Rangers. The fan's darling was thus sent out on loan to Birmingham and then Bolton before finally going to Glasgow on a free, and in lurched Kilbane, an inexperienced 22-year-old with Chris Waddle's awkward gait, Darren Anderton's geeky physique and, upon his slender shoulders, the confused expectations of fans and Peter Reid.

Only by conjuring spectacular magic could this impostor have found favour with fans. The problem was, of course, that Kilbane doesn't do magic. Never has. Never will. That didn't stop his new team-mates from passing to him and standing back in anticipation of a dazzling dance down the line, topped off by a spellbinding cross or shot. Naturally he failed to produce and the booing began. The heckling quickly turned to hatred - partially because the player's confidence collapsed and his performances failed, at first, to rise; partially because, in addition to replacing Johnston, he was keeping Julio Arca out of the team; and partially, you suspect, just because he was on the pitch, while other unpopular Reid recruits, such as Milton Núñez, Carsten Fredgaard and Lilian Laslandes, almost never even made it that far - so Kilbane carried the can for the lot of them.

Mostly he carried it with dignity. Though it all got a bit much for him during a pre-season friendly in Belgium in August 2002. His name was jeered by the small (in numbers, not bellies) travelling contingent when it was read out over the tannoy, and his every touch then greeted by beery abuse, as had become customary. Exasperated, Kilbane reacted by flipping them a finger - inebriated, fans reacted by reeling in shock at the obscenity, the like of which they'd never ever seen in their lives, not even when they were doing it themselves just seconds previously. Naturally, the abuse got worse and continued pretty much until David Moyes, who'd played with Kilbane in his early days at Preston, rescued him in August 2003 with a £750,000 purchase.

Sunderland's £1.45m loss was Everton's gain. At Goodison Park, Kilbane showed what he'd begun to show at the Stadium of Light despite his detractors, and what he'd been displaying on the international stage for years for the Republic of Ireland. In 2004-05, he was an ever-present as Moyes's men finished fourth in the Premiership, just as he was one of only two players to feature in all of Ireland's qualifiers as they eliminated Holland en route to the 2002 World Cup finals. He still didn't do tricks, but what he did offer was undying energy, heroic self-sacrifice and solid balance - no matter where he played. His versatility was admirable but with him on the left, in particular, Everton and Ireland may not always have been threatening, but they were virtually never vulnerable.

He may seldom be an opposing full-back's nightmare, but he has always been his own left-back's dream. After Michael Gray sabotaged his own England ambitions by getting sent off for fighting with Andy Cole in front of a watching Sven-Goran Eriksson at Old Trafford in January 2001, his performances nosedived - thereafter it was only Kilbane's selfless backtracking and tackling that gave a shred of stability to Sunderland's left side. But the biggest beneficiary of Kilbane's unsung virtues was unquestionably Ian Harte, the other player to feature in all of Ireland's 2002 qualifiers. Harte was in the team solely for his free-kicks - with four goals he was the country's joint-top scorer in the campaign: everything else on the left, Kilbane did, tearing up and down the line tirelessly and effectively.

The only reason Kilbane was never designated as a specialist left-back is because he does offer at least one attacking asset: unpredictability. Like a runaway horse on a busy street, he can cause mayhem when he gets into full gallop - no one quite knows where his unbridled enthusiasm will take him but they know it'll be a hell of a job to stop him. Sometimes he'll deliver a dangerous cross, sometimes he'll just charge madly beyond the dead-ball line. He is, if you like, the Emile Heskey of the flanks, which is why on the occasions he fails to find one of the strikers at his latest club, Wigan, at least one team-mate is sympathetic.

Or maybe he's an Irish precursor of Stewart Downing, a limited but honest and often effective trier who's been vilified for being the wrong person at the wrong time. England will be thankful if Downing, who, though he shares Kilbane's lack of trickery is a better crosser but inferior backtracker, goes on to have an international career as admirable as Kilbane's.

Three of the five goals Kilbane has scored in ten years of sterling service for Ireland came against Andora and Faroe Islands when he, unlike certain more arrogant team-mates, maintained his above-average standard of play and was one of the few to prove he was a class above bad opponents. That's the inspirational thing about Kilbane: regardless of the opposition or the position he's asked to play in, he'll always wring the best out of himself - never will anyone say he didn't fulfil his potential.

It would be nice to say that the moment that best captured Kilbane's career was when he stunned Sunderland fans into silence by scoring the winner for them against Southampton at The Dell in April 2001 ... with a 20-yard overhead kick. But that was not par for this workhorse's course. It would be more accurate to single out his contribution to Everton's third goal in their 4-0 win over Crystal Palace in 2005 - having come back to help out at a corner (where his aerial strength was often useful), Kilbane collected the ball off Nigel Martyn, dinked it infield to Leon Osman, then hurtled forward to collect a return pass and fire the ball across the six-yard box, where Tim Cahill popped up to turn it into the net.

But perhaps the real defining moment of his career (so far) is none of those, nor the spontaneous debagging at Stamford Bridge. Rather it is the incident his Irish critics always point to: his miss against Spain in the 2002 World Cup, when, after Harte's penalty had been parried by Iker Casillas, he somehow managed to slash the rebound wide from two yards. In a sense, those Irish fans are right, but not for the reason they think: yes, it was a screamingly awful finish, but what was truly telling was that this always willing, always alert worker was first to the ball. And, of course, by producing a shot that was even worse than Harte's penalty, he yet again overshadowed the left-back's inadequacies.