It was the day of the underdog. Sligo and Donegal, occasional visitors to the great cathedral of Gaelic Games, will not forget yesterday for a long time.

This may only have been an unfashionable qualifying Sunday, but the majesty of the capital stadium and the plain magic of just being there inspired both counties to give the performances that have turned their summer.

Sligo opened the bill against Tyrone, the dashing and hotly-tipped stronghold of the Ulster game.

In a sleepy opening period, the outsiders looked lost amidst the splendour as Tyrone, conducted by the great Peter Canavan, taught them a lesson.

At 0-9 to 0-3 up after 24 minutes, they looked to be light years ahead of Peter Ford's young team. But around mid-afternoon, all predictability just vanished.

Sligo ran and ran until they left Tyrone in their wake and never once looked back.

"This was a good day," conceded the unflappable Ford afterwards.

Tyrone were ambushed, with the vast majority of the supporters awaiting the second show cheering for the unfancied team.

By the end, Sligo didn't even need that, with Dessie Sloyan crashing home a goal that ended the game as a contest.

If that match was a rollicking adventure, the next fare was a tense old thriller.

Meath, living on the edge all summer, finally came unstuck against a young Donegal team.

Up 1-9 to 0-7 midway through the second half, they stood brave throughout the traditional Meath rally. In a tough and openly confrontational game, Meath began to find a way despite the relative obscurity of the names that have defined their best days.

When Donegal scored, Sligo and Tyrone flags fluttered through the stands. It was Meath against the world, just how they like it. In injury time, two points down, they launched the last of their do-or-die attacks, but, while Donal Curtis got a fist to a dropping ball, it fell just outside the Donegal goal.

"That was massive," said Michael Hegarty later. The young Kilcar man was made captain yesterday and played a big role in a time of personal sorrow following the death of his mother during the week. "It was new to a lot of the lads and none of them were overawed by the occasion."

So Meath have fallen and Tyrone are gone too. Another year struck off for the mighty Canavan. In the northwest though, it is all bright stars.

"Sure who know where it's going to end now," mused John Gildea.

And on to the last eight.