RUGBY:1978 OR 2008? it does not matter to Munster rugby. This was then. That is now. The more Munster power into the future, the more they seem fuelled by their past. What was supposed to be a sustained and emotional bow to the unlikely heroics of greying Cork and Limerick heroes turned into a thrilling and gripping reprise that surpassed the maddest hopes of Irish fans. This night of sport had everything.
From the minute the four resident New Zealand-Munster men lined up to perform the haka to their compatriots, a slow, electric sense passed through the ground that, just as with October '78, this match might defy all reason and logic. Here were Howlett, Tipoki, Mafi and Manning - remember their names, because they will be given the freedom of Limerick after this - standing up to the most feared and respected ritual in all of world rugby. Standing alone to their own. Just like that, Munster had their Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
It set the tone. The next 80 minutes were something of a cold, clear autumn night dream. Who could have guessed Munster would score first or own the ball for the first 10 minutes? And when Paul Warwick leaned back and calmly floated a drop goal for a 9-3 lead, another chapter in the story of this famous park was born. Warwick was three years old when Tony Ward struck that drop for goal three decades ago.
So a strange, wonderful night took off. It did not take long before this All Blacks side, like their predecessors, learned that Thomond is different to other grounds. It may have a gorgeous, shimmering crown of lights and steel now, but at heart it is still a bear pit.
The local crowd demanded a home try: it took the local side just 33 minutes to oblige. The Munster scrum was so solid they might well had had the spirit (and maybe the current fighting weight) of Moss Keane and Ginger McLoughlin in their ranks. Ahead 16-10 at half-time, the old - and ultra-modern - Munster belief and expectation was rampant.
It had started as both a long and fond nod to the most glorious yesterday in Munster's century-old history and the most extravagant celebration of all the shimmering tomorrows the new Thomond Park promises. The drummers and fireworks and flares have become part of the professional era, but the sudden and dramatic appearance of an Army aircraft brought matters into a different dimension. Nobody had seen a military aircraft flying so low over a sports ground since the bad old days up at Crossmaglen Rangers GAA club. The sight of two Army personnel sliding down ropes onto the field added a surreal twist to the evening, and the thought must have crossed many minds that this might be some wild attempt by Brian Cowen and his much-maligned Cabinet to win back public approval.
Instead, it was a novel way to deliver the '78 match ball back to centre field.
The heroes of 30 years ago were present for the match and honoured before it. That 12-0 victory has, of course, entered the realms of rarefied Irish legend. Only 15 minutes of film remains of the match. And perhaps that is as well: the scores are there to be seen and theatre, hearsay and ever-colouring memory has filled in the rest.
Last night, though, was lit up and beamed around the world. Well after the hour mark, Munster led the All Blacks by three precious points. Listen, it has been a grim and sober autumn in Ireland. The ripple of applause followed by the chill silence in honour of the late Shane Geoghegan bore testimony to that. In a fairer world, the Garryowen man would have been cheering in the stand. But for the many friends of his who may well have been among the crowd, it was a night of beautiful escape.
The seconds wore on. Old men would say the last 30 years have flown by much quicker than the final 10 minutes of this match. The men in red did not blink. The Blacks were shattered. They came to revenge an old defeat, to remove a lingering thorn.
And with four minutes remaining, they did. Reality crashed in along with Joe Rokocoko over the Munster try line with four minutes left.
But it was a match and a night worthy of a 30-year reunion.
