So now we know. Spice weddings are not spectator sports.
Those who gathered outside Luttrellstown Castle in Co Dublin for the wedding of the millennium/ century/year between "Posh Spice" Victoria Adams and David Beckham might have been better off watching the Wimbledon Final. The crowd around the electronic steel gates never rose above 150, but weather and a mix of wannabe Spice Girls (belly tops and ponytails), wannabe soccer boys (Manchester United strips) and their weary parents (empty crisp packets and Coke cans) provided a suitably upbeat atmosphere.
As the day wore on local boys and girls became the willing allies of bored media who, stranded for hours with nothing but the dark tinted windows of "people carriers" to report on, lapped up their tales of soccer/Spice devotion. In greatest demand was Karla Millward (10), a soccer fan with long blond hair who had managed to persuade her mother to travel over from England to be at the wedding.
Not only that but she had also dropped a letter in to Tony Blair to ask him if he could use his considerable influence to get her into the bash. She wanted to be there because "Beckham is the best player in the world, I like his hair and he is cute".
Turned down by the Prime Minister ("I thought he could do anything," sighed Karla) she had visited Old Trafford itself and popped the question, so to speak, to Becks. "He said he would see," she said, showing photographs of herself with her hero to yet another camera crew.
"I just think we should be able to see what's going on. We should be able to talk to them." She had been queueing outside the castle since 6.30 a.m.
Her determination to catch a glimpse of the celebrations was so acute that she would have approved of the exploits of the Australian photographer who buried himself in the castle grounds for several days before being discovered by sniffer dogs on the eve of the wedding.
As the afternoon sun beat down outside Luttrellstown a dog wandering in the gardens was enough to get trigger-happy paparazzi snapping. Other "highlights" included the arrival of the berobed Right Rev Paul Colton, Church of Ireland Bishop of Cork, who married the couple.
Excitement soared when an ambulance was seen arriving and then leaving the castle grounds. Had exSpice Geri Halliwell turned up and caused a violent scene? Apparently not.
The potential for violent scenes on the Potterstown-Clonsilla junction on whose grassy paths the crowd had converged was confirmed by a strong Garda presence. The number of gardai directing traffic and monitoring illegally parked vehicles had been cut back to 10 after a newspaper report suggested there would be as many as 23, one garda said. The place was a deathtrap even in normal circumstance, he added.
Later the two "people carriers" bearing Spices Scary, Baby and Sporty sped into view, jerking to an abrupt halt inches from the crowd. "I love you," yelled one young boy at a barely discernible Mel G.
As helicopters and planes whizzed over head - "Well done, Posh and Becks, from the Sun" was the caption trailing from one aeroplane shortly after the ceremony - the expectancy of the dwindling numbers at the wedding vigil intensified. Although what they were expecting nobody seemed to know.
Then word went round that the Manchester United team were about to arrive, and sure enough shortly afterwards a lot of coaches passed by the waiting hordes very quickly indeed. Ryan Giggs waved. A small group of children cheered.
Later, everybody straggled home in sun-kissed groups safe in the knowledge that when the PoshBecks marriage is mentioned in company they can say: "I was there. But I didn't see very much".