Doesn't it always seem that something unexpected, almost illicit, tastes so much better? So it was on Saturday afternoon. The rugby cognoscenti who had gathered high in the Lansdowne Road rafters in RTE's spanking new television studio - told you before, the terrestrial channels devote so much time and expertise to the game - must have felt they'd been invited to a funeral only to discover it was actually a wedding.

Two Sundays ago, on Network Two's Sunday Sport after the previous day's humiliation at Twickenham (missed by most of the country because it was exclusive to Sky Sports), George Hook had jokingly used a picture of an empty Lansdowne Road to demonstrate the likely interest in the Scottish match.

Then, on Friday morning, Tom McGurk, the anchorman and devil's advocate, was interviewed on the Gerry Ryan Show on 2FM and said George and fellow-analyst Brent Pope - or, as he described them, "the Laurel and Hardy of Irish rugby" - were threatening to provide more entertainment than the players on the field.

And Tom wasn't far wrong. Until Saturday, that is. Lo and behold, the whole jigsaw falls into place: the Scots are forced to make the sort of retreat that the Irish have been making from Edinburgh for donkey's years, and Ryle Nugent has to get used to interviewing a winning Irish captain.

Of course, Neil Francis could afford to say: "I told you so!" Or some such chatter. And, bizarrely, he had, or something to that effect.

Part of Network Two's build-up to the match involved Franno dissecting the merits of the Irish and Scottish tactics over the years. All the (selective) clips demonstrated that the Scots were light years ahead of the Irish, but, when it came time to make a prediction, Francis remarked: "There's no logical reason for optimism, but I've a funny feeling this could be 13th time lucky."

You could almost hear the guffaws from Scott Hastings, who'd joined Tom and George and Brent in the sky-high studio. "Who'll win," inquired Tom of his fellow-aficionados?

"Scotland, just," said George.

"Two pretty poor teams, Ireland might shade it," said Brent.

"Scotland by ten points," insisted Hastings, and you got the feeling that he expected it to be a hell of a lot more than that.

To be honest, so did most of the television viewers. But, then a strange thing happened. Ronan Tynan unleashed his lungs. Amhran na bhFiann actually sounded as if it belonged in Lansdowne Road and not just Croke Park. Ireland's Call actually sounded like, well, a call. The cameras showed some Irish players belting out the words - with real feeling.

"That's as good a version of that as I've ever heard," said commentator Jim Sherwin, obviously hoping it wouldn't be all he could get excited about all afternoon.

Co-commentator Tony Ward told us it was a "journey into the unknown" for the five new caps. "The quicker they get ball into their hands the better," he added.

Once you got accustomed to hearing referee Monsieur Dume's voice - "Green . . . blue . . . green" - interacting with those of Sherwin and Ward, the match sort of settled down to what we had resigned ourselves to, and it wasn't long until we heard the most dreaded words in Irish rugby. "And Scotland have men over here . . ." from Sherwin as Kenny Logan dived in for a try.

It was, Ward observed, "looking ominous". And the game had only started.

But, then, just as we all resigned ourselves to another inglorious defeat, the unexpected happened. Ireland dug in, actually played some rugby, and, as Sherwin observed with increasing relish, started to play Scotland at their own game. Irish players won broken ball and utilised it, and the eejits in the crowd who had found it more entertaining to wave at the camera so they could see themselves on the big screen focused on the match.

By half-time, with Ireland - unbelievably - leading, George Hook was almost in a state of shock if not totally convinced that the corner had been turned. "They've got the ball to the wing more times (today) than in the last 10 games," he remarked.

Pope was more succinct. "Who would have believed it? Ireland leading. It's a great game."

What was the reason, wondered McGurk? Hook had no doubts. "The kids are prepared to take risks," he replied, but added that he had a "nagging feeling" that there was a lot left in the Scottish locker.

Within two minutes of the restart, Ireland had added another converted try and the first real inkling that they could pull it off hit home. Ward was giddy, and probably dizzy too. "An extraordinary game, full of errors . . . it's lent itself to excitement," he said.

The Irish rout continued unabated and Messrs Sherwin and Ward graciously conceded that even the mighty Gregor Townsend was "human" as the Scottish malaise of poor handling spread through the team.

Ward wasn't convinced, however, that the selectors were wise in substituting Ronan O'Gara midway through that second-half. "I wouldn't have taken him off," insisted Ward.

But a few minutes later, he was acknowledging that O'Gara's replacement, David Humphreys, had taken the game "by the scruff of the neck".

By the time Keith Wood crashed over for his customary try - "Let's see where the bald head comes up," said Sherwin as an orgy of bodies lay on the endline - the Irish commentators, a bit like their Sky equivalent of two weeks ago, were in seventh heaven.

"All the records in the world between Ireland and Scotland are being broken today," said Sherwin. But we knew what he meant.

Forty-four unanswered points and an Irish win on the cards, Ward suddenly remembered what Francis had said in his pre-match opinion. "Anyone who says they saw this coming is an absolute liar," said Ward, probably aware that he was in for some ribbing from Franno.

The post-match interviews were weird, if only because the players had smiles - as did the coach - and the interviewer, Mr Nugent, didn't have to play the role of an agony uncle for the umpteenth time.

"It's rare that an Irishman gets off to a winning start in his career, but five of them did today," remarked Keith Wood to Ryle. Why? "Gutsy. Proud. Irish. Manic. What we need to do every time we play," he responded.

Up in the studio, Scott Hastings had donned a moustache and glasses in disguise - but McGurk consoled him by reminding him that an Irish win over the Scots "only comes about every 10,000 years". And wasn't it nice to have a happy wedding feel rather than a funereal one for a change?

At least most of the country - or at least anyone with the inclination to watch - had an opportunity to see it this time, and those who missed out should be sorry. Who knows when it will happen again?