It is the enduring allure of this competition that even something as imperfect as this Munster final decider could become so enthralling. The end was chaos and carnage and class, a fitting conclusion to a messy afternoon.

As a green wave swept across the immaculate surface, first a trickle from the North Stand and then a flood that engulfed midfield with deafening chants of ‘Cian-O’, Nickie Quaid made his way through various Cork players offering the usual consoling handshake. Eventually, he found his opposite number. Two men who had shaped the tie looked each other in the eye and embraced.