This was a victory for level heads, calm nerves and true football fans

Moments of silence in a football stadium are difficult.

Profound quiet in such a large, populated space amplifies morons to volumes you can't ignore. And that is all it was, a couple of morons in the away end shouting. It was unclear what they were saying but if their intention was to offend they were successful. Some home fans jeered the morons and the moment of silence for those killed in the atrocities in Paris was spoiled. Too much emphasis can be placed on the value of sport at times like this. As Simon Kuper, a journalist caught up in the horrors of the Stade de France on Friday said, football is only important in that it makes some people happy. Football made people happy tonight but it is no zero sum game - what happened is Paris is no less shocking or pointless. Of course it is not. The Republic of Ireland have qualified for Euro 2016, which will be played in France under a cloud of fear and suspicion, but don't allow some morons in the away end sully this evening. On a night that called for calm heads and steady nerves, Bosnia blinked first. Whether they fed off the crowd or simply their own anxiousness, the visitors were cagey and prone to mistakes. Ireland, on the other hand, looking to win their third play-off tie at the ninth time of asking, were uncharacteristically cool. We say uncharacteristically, but perhaps that is an unfair assessment of Martin O'Neill's tenure. The former Leicester City, Celtic, Sunderland and Aston Villa manager has been a steadying influence on this group of players. Roy Keane said O'Neill's temper makes the former Manchester United man look like Mother Teresa, but in his public dealings O'Neill has been sanguine and relaxed. It must be rubbing off on the players because where before there might be panic, disorganisation or moments of madness, there now seems to be a latent confidence that springs from knowing what they are supposed to do. Even under Giovanni Trapattoni some of the greatest results seemed to owe more to frantic scrambling than a predetermined plan - think about Richard Dunne's defiance in Moscow. There was no blood shed last night, but it wasn't for a want of trying from some of the Bosnian players, who seemed to be too keyed up for the game. Centre-half Emir Spahic could have been sent off twice in the opening 45 minutes, such were the volume of his yellow card offences), only one of which referee Bjorn Kuipers spotted. In fairness, the visiting team had every right to be enraged by Kuipers on the penalty decision. Daryl Murphy's cross did hit Ervin Zukanovic's hand, but his hand was tight to his chest. If Mehmed Bazdarevic's men had been keeping some control up to that point, the penalty decision saw them flip. Asmir Begovic, who was a bag of nerves all night, had a go at the referee while captain Edin Dzeko may have tested his diplomatic immunity with the vociferousness of his protestations. Given Robbie Keane's altercation with a member of the opposing backroom team it was probably no harm he started the match on the bench, but instead of level heads in the second half we got James McClean in place of Wes Hoolahan. Hoolahan had worked like a Trojan all evening and McClean does have his attributes but the loss of the Norwich playmaker only accentuated our lack of possession after the break. However Bosnia could not make their third-quarter dominance pay and when Spahic committed his fifth yellow card offence (again unpunished), kneeing Jon Walters in the midriff, they were made to pay from the resulting free-kick - Walters doubling his tally from the deflected free-kick. Irish teams don't often enjoy 3-1 aggregate leads and it was a chance for the supporters to engage in some relatively stress-free trolling of their counterparts in the Havelock Square end. "You're not singing anymore," they chanted, lustily. With any luck we'll be singing in France next year, along with the other 23 sets of fans. Enjoying the football and giving two fingers to the murderous fundamentalists who can never comprehend the absolute and pure joy of a 3-1 aggregate victory. Pity about them.