It was one of those interviews on the pitch after the match in Thurles that brimmed with joy and bliss. Long shadows were cast across the grass from the stands and great big slabs of sunshine brightened the ground and the mood.

Derek McGrath, the Waterford manager was being interviewed by RTÉ's Marty Morrissey and the back ground was as you might expect on a summer's day after a match in a provincial town in Ireland.

Little red animated faces peeked between bodies and little hands waved at the camera as the sunburn and the red heads of the Waterford supporters youth wing were beamed into our homes bringing with them all the glee and elation that comes with winning a match, all of it rooted in county pride.

The youth wing yesterday saw their chance of 15 minutes of fame and they grabbed it.

McGrath was gracious and earnest, thanking the players and their families for all the work and patience that goes into beating Clare in the Munster championship.

League final

“Professional almost in their approach to it,” he said making sure to include the word “almost”.

The Twittersphere was alive with avenge and revenge for the league final defeat but McGrath held firmly to the respectful family script.

“Just delighted all the fruits of their labour were seen today. Just delighted for the players and their families. It can be a big day for all the families, an emotive day,” he said

“We are trying to build a side and building something takes time. We are back in a Munster final and for us that is an upward curve” he added.

It has been a week like that, of Irish sports stars with scorched, radiant faces and tennis stars in Paris ducking and diving between the showers and torrential rain in quite a reversal of summer weather on the European continent.

Roland Garros might have an international reputation and may be a member of the Grand Slam club but what Paris struggled for and Thurles had in abundance was the gaiety and the mildly chaotic scenes of a post match interview on pitch with audience.

We had Novak Djokovic scratching a heart on the red clay of the Roland Garros Centre Court, Philippe Chatrier. Yes the lad loves his fans especially when he has just, finally joined the Career Grand Slam club with wins in Australia, France, London and New York.

Djokovic lay down on the clay and almost serenely closed his eyes in a brief contemplation of the moment, his opponent Andy Murray silently mumbling obscenities having let the match unravel out of his control after winning the first set.

Murray, like Tim Henman before him carries considerable weight with him around the planet and sometimes it shows when he is playing. There was a moment in the first set when things were going swimmingly for the Scot and instead of playing he sought distraction.

There is a trait with Murray, a sort of needless compulsion to look for diversions. As if holding the best tennis player in the world at racquet’s length in the first set was not enough, he decided to direct the French television coverage of the final.

Between points he fizzled and bubbled and at one point became Mr Angry and ordered the host broadcaster’s courtside reporter away from his guests in the player’s box.

At the end lines of judges and a table were neatly aligned on the court. Djokovic held the trophy aloft and photographers took pictures. Somewhere somebody was signing a cheque for the Serb for €2 million, his purse for beating Murray. The Scot, who lost 3-6, 6-1, 6-2, 6-4 had to make do with just €1 million for playing the seven matches it takes to get into a Grand Slam final.

Thurles and Paris are different places with different sporting cultures and the two venues highlight the striking difference between what people like to do for sport – and just why they play sport.

Roland Garros had the 128 best male and female players in the world in the singles draws and as the commentator put it Djokovic is “now among the true greats”. What it didn’t have was a gaggle of bright-faced young kids bunting each other out of the way and giggling in front of cameras before they head off to the chipper. Altogether just a different kind of cheer.