The two days when Munster played Heineken Cup semi-finals in Lansdowne Road in 2004 and 2006 are probably the two most intoxicating rugby days ever on this island, no, they definitely are.
They mixed the best of the old with the best of the new.
The best of the old was the indomitable amateur spirit that existed within that Munster team, the sheer Munsterness of it.
The best of the old was the setting. The two terraces. The three terraces. The venerable stands. The cottages in the corner. A special, special place.
The best of the new was the competition itself. It was new, it was shiny, it was exciting, but it drew from history and from association football. European competition. Football had done this since the 1950s, but Irish teams never advanced past a second round. Now, for the first time, Irish teams were competing in European competition in a major field sport. Against English teams, and French teams. Wasps were like Glasgow Rangers. Leinster were like Chelsea were then or PSG are now. Munster were a fusion of Cork, Limerick, Liverpool and Celtic.
The best of the new was the make up of the crowd. It was basically a GAA crowd. And thatās what you want. Munster at Lansdowne Road had that feral atmosphere of a ye olde Munster hurling final in Thurles. The redness of the colours of the crowd was like Cork on Hill 16 for the All-Ireland hurling final.
RTE. Live. Ads all week. McGuirk, Hook and Pope, Sherwin, Nugent, Ward. Actual physical queues for tickets outside stadiums and shops in the preceding weeks, the way it should be. 3pm on a Sunday, which kept with the GAA nature of it.
Identifiable characters. Foley, OāGara, Stringer, Hayes, OāConnell, OāCallaghan. Galwey and Clohessy still there if not still there. The brutish, Black and Tan like Dallaglio, the bond villain like Trevor Leota. The yeomanry of Simon Shaw and Josh Lewsey, the squaddie like nature of the rest of the Wasps team. Gatty. OāDriscoll, Hickie, Horgan, Darcy, a clash of civilisations.
The sunshine. The heat. Late April. So similar to the best of the September air. Swinging Dublin. These were genuine All-Ireland type days, days to compare with the tension of Ireland v Holland of September 2001, or ye olde FA Cup semi-finals of 1985 to 1990, of Crystal Palace v Liverpool at Villa Park. You know the genuine article of a classic sporting occasion because you feel it - and it feels you, it assaults you.
In Irish rugby history only that Munster team has provoked a feeling of rugby matches genuinely mattering, that the outcome was genuinely important, that if the outcome went wrong, it would affect peopleās moods for weeks and months, that they would quietly mourn.
A time and a place and a crowd and a team and a thing that is never, ever to be repeated.