TV VIEW:IT WAS, to be honest, an excruciatingly difficult decision yesterday: whether to watch live coverage of Munster's inevitable obliteration in Perpignan, knowing the pain of bidding adieu to the glory days would be beyond heartbreaking, or to go Christmas shopping and cravenly pretend it wasn't happening.

Heroically, if we say so ourselves, we opted to stand by Munster in their hour of need, as they faced the final curtain, remembering our vow to be their faithful partner in good times and in bad, in joy as well as in sorrow.

On Saturday night, for the first time, we were angry with Brent Pope for going all Barack Obama-ish on us when, a touch poignantly, he started alleging there was some hope. “In the unlikely story that is Munster, there has never been anything false about hope,” he sort of said, declaring that he had a “hunch” Munster would win. Seriously.

Audacity, of course, is all very well, but when you’ve “no midfield, a scrum in disarray, and no lineout”, as George Hook had reminded us the week before, that’s not audacity, that’s bonkers.

“Are you seriously saying they’re going to win,” asked an incredulous George, who gave Tom McGurk a look that suggested he felt it was time for Brent to be wheeled away and put out of his hopeful, deluded misery.

“Yes,” said Brent, “I think they’ll win. I just see something in Munster, they just have something up their sleeve.”

Did you ever?

“Is Tony McGahan up to this job, Brent,” asked Tom, solemnly.

“Absolutely,” insisted Brent, leaving Tom, George and ourselves shaking our heads, wondering how Brent would fill his days after being laid off from his rugby “expert” job with RTÉ. There are only so many petunias a rugby man can nurture before concluding he misses the rucking and mauling.

“Well, I’ve been wrong so often against Popie that I hesitate, but I’m not going to hesitate: they’re going to lose, and I don’t think they’ll get a bonus point,” said George, pointing out that “this is a Munster team that can’t score a try”.

Brent stood his ground.

“I tell you, if Munster win in Perpignan I’ll eat my tie,” said George.

“I’ll bring in a tie covered in salt tomorrow, just in case,” said Brent.

“I just don’t believe it, it’s not possible, IT’S NOT POSSIBLE,” said George.

We nodded, tearfully.

D-Day. Sky’s resident expert, Stuart Barnes, as presenter Simon Lazenby told us, hadn’t offered a great deal of Munster hope either in his Sunday Times column.

“The red aura is fading, the lights are dimming . . . at best, this team can hope for a glorious and delayed exit . . . Munster are not so much set to make history in Perpignan as become history . . . the great days have departed . . . Munster’s pack will be savaged at the scrum, the midfield will be hanging on in defence . . . today could see the fall of what was once a mighty side.” Knew it, should have gone shopping.

Munster lined up in the tunnel, waiting to enter what commentator Mark Robson told us was the “Catalonian version of the Colosseum”. Perpignan hadn’t lost there since 1522, or something like that.

Munster, lambs to the slaughter, God love them. We wished that a boxing referee would be looking after the “contest”, and might stop it after 20 minutes-ish so Munster could at least leave France with a smidgen of pride in tact.

And then a mad thing happened: Munster audaciously obliterated Perpignan. 37-14. “Squashed like a bug on a windshield”, as Robson said of the French champions.

The team “that can’t score a try” scored just the four, one of them from Munster’s “Lada”, Jean de Villiers.

The final curtain had been drawn on anyone who ever doubted them. We thought of the man from Decca who opted not to sign The Beatles because “guitar music is on the way out”. If Munster are on the way out, strewth, they’re exiting in a mightily melodious way.

“Those who went on evidence, those who went on reason, have been made to look foolish,” conceded Barnes and his sizzling cheeks, “with Munster it’s about faith. This has been a European masterclass. It was magnificent.”

Robson asked Barnes what those “who said that this Munster side was crumbling” would say now?

“Anyone who has watched Munster in Europe over the last 12 years or so would never come out with something that strong, unless they’ve taken something pretty strong themselves at this time of year,” he hicced.

Deadlines prevent us from reporting what the audacious Brent had to say last night after feeding George a salty tie. But we’re guessing: “If there is anyone out there who still doubts that Munster rugby is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of their founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of their rugby, yesterday in Perpignan is your answer.”

Still no presents bought, but no harm: Munster is the gift that keeps on giving.