TIMING IS everything. I’m not talking about striking the ball sweetly, I mean striking it quickly, before you start to think. Too much waiting and you can miss the penalty before you’ve taken it.

I imagine the Switzerland and Ukraine players will have watched Italy beat Australia earlier in the day. As that match headed towards extra time, their minds probably turned over the possibility: what if ours is a draw, what if we go to penalties? Italy’s match did not because they scored from the spot at the death. What a shame for Switzerland that they didn’t take Francesco Totti’s penalty-taking method to heart. The perfect template — he walked up and buried it. Pace, power, no doubt in his mind, or if there was doubt, he didn’t reveal any. Yet he must have sensed: “If I miss, we’ll probably lose.”

Andriy Shevchenko has been responsible for two of the worst penalties I’ve seen in the past year or so — in the Champions League final for AC Milan against Liverpool last year and on Monday for Ukraine. You can imagine people watching and thinking, “£130,000 a week, a £31 million transfer fee and he can’t even shoot straight. Must be a bottler.”

It’s a natural reaction, but it’s not fair. Shoot-outs are not tests of skill and someone who has played for Milan week in, week out knows how to deal with pressure. On the training ground, he could put the ball anywhere he wanted from the spot nine times out of ten. What’s different in a match situation? What can’t you replicate in practice? Time to think. Time to doubt.

It’s not just about handling the pressure of the kick itself, it’s about coping with the waiting, preserving your conviction as the clock ticks. Not letting your instincts dull.

Shoot-out is a misnamed term. It’s not like a Wild West gunfight, cowboys eyeballing each other. The goalkeeper loves it when the opponent looks at him. It’s a chance to stare him out. He wants to see the whites of your eyes. So most players taking a kick have their heads bowed low, eyes fixed on the grass, hiding within themselves. “What if I let my country down? What if I let my team-mates down?” On the halfway line, before and during, no one wants to talk. A few mumble to themselves. You look around, privately predict who’ll score and who won’t. When is my turn? What are the permutations? Three is my lucky number. But what if we miss the first two? Maybe I should go earlier. Or later. Low and hard, low and hard. Don’t change your mind, Cas. Low and hard.

I stepped up in Italia 90 when Ireland beat Romania. We were looking for volunteers. I spoke to Paul McGrath. “We’ve only got four penalty-talkers, Paul.” He walked away, ignored me. Ray Houghton asked me: “Going to take one? Are you a man or a mouse?” Andy Townsend came past: “Pass the cheese!” But I said “yeah”. Almost rather miss than be the butt of jokes at dinner afterwards: here’s the bottler, here’s the guy who was too scared to take one.

The walk to the spot, the kick itself, was like an out-of-body experience. Surreal, dreamlike. Low and hard; I avoided my nightmare.

Away return is spot on

HERE’S A PIECE OF ADVICE TO ENGLAND fans — if it comes to penalties against Portugal, flee the stadium as quickly as you can. The failure of Switzerland to convert a single penalty against Ukraine prompts the question — where does the advantage lie in penalty shoot-outs? A Fink Tank study of a large number of such shoot-outs suggests that the first answer is the obvious one. The better team has the advantage. A side that had a 60 per cent shot at winning the game during the 120 preceding minutes might enjoy, say, a 55 per cent chance on penalties.

But with the Swiss result the odds were exactly 50-50 in open play. Yet one surprising result does shine a light. There is an away advantage, a strong one, in penalty tournaments. The preponderance of Switzerland fans in the stadium and behind the goal into which they were shooting actually hindered the Switzerland players.

The Fink Tank theory is that supporters spook their team. England would be better off shooting towards the other team’s fans.

DANIEL FINKELSTEIN