Well, they did it. Munster finally cast off the mantle of "Best team to have never won the Heineken Cup", and took their well-deserved place among the certified great teams of Europe. And it was long overdue.

I was in Andalucia from Tuesday last week, and was scheduled to be en route home when the match was on. Munster jersey on, I got the first 20 minutes or so from RTE radio on the internet, up to the point when Trevor Halstead went over for Munster's first try. Having conceded in the first three minutes, it could have been a long, difficult afternoon's work for Munster, but admirably they fought back to get control of the game. Had they lost because of that try (which should never have been awarded, as Bobo clearly stepped on the line before scoring), it would have been an awful kick in the guts for team and supporters alike.

I was on the bus to Seville for most of the remainder of the match, with my wife frantically texting me updates from home. When the "WE'VE WON!!!" text came through, I was in the queue for the check-in at the airport. I couldn't help myself and loudly announced the result to my fellow-travellers in the queue. Cheers and applause went up.

On arriving home last night at 10.30 pm, we watched the match again. Jesus, it was tight. Before the match, George Hook and Conor O'Shea predicted Biarritz, and Brent Pope went for Munster. Hook and O'Shea both took a scientific "on paper" approach to their predictions. For them, it was all about the relative strengths of the various players in their respective positions. But they forgot the one thing that Popey correctly took into account when making his prediction - desire. For years, Munster players and fans have ached for the moment that their captain would lift the Heineken Cup. They have endured season after season of disappointment. This was the best chance that this particular group of players would have to finally get the monkey off their back. They weren't going to give it up easily.

Munster wanted it more than Biarritz, and that's why they won.

That's not to say that Biarritz were here just to make up the numbers. They gave Munster their sternest test this season, and at 20-19, a bounce of the ball could have sent it their way. But Munster held out for the last ten nailbiting, edge-of-seats, watchable-only-through-fingers minutes.

Afterwards, George Hook opined that the Millennium Stadium was not a neutral venue. It is true that there was an overwhelming majority of Munster supporters in the crowd, but they too had to travel distance, cross water, and find accommodation in a city away from home. Munster fans didn't prevent their Biarritz counterparts from coming to the final, it's just that they were more motivated to be there. Let's face it, if this Heineken Cup final had been played on the moon, the same number of Munster fans would have been there.

So what is this extraordinary bond that exists between the team and its supporters? The core of the Munster team is made up of local men, mostly from Limerick, Cork, Tipperary and Clare. While many other major European teams rely on imported muscle, often from the South Pacific, to give oomph to their packs, Munster's first choice 1 - 8 is made up of local brawn. Even when outsiders arrive into the fold, they often emulate the Anglo-Normans who came to Ireland in the 12th and 13th centuries, and become more Munster than the Munster people themselves. See Jim Williams, who arrived here from Australia as a player and is now a key member of the coaching staff. These men aren't just rugby players who happen to play for Munster - they are of Munster.

This generation of players now go into the pantheon of Munster "liginds", alongside the men of '78. For some of the more senior members of the squad, this must be very satisfying. Having put their bodies on the line, week in week out, season in season out, for the red jersey, with nothing concrete to show for it must have been incredibly frustrating. To go down in history as the team who nearly, but not quite did it, would have been too much to bear. To have to listen forever about that great day back in 1978, and not having an equivalent to show for themselves. (For Anthony Foley, it must be particularly sweet to have been the captain and lifted the cup, because his father Brendan was in the second row with Moss Keane the day Munster beat the All-Blacks.)

For me personally, it is a watershed. Never before in my life, has a team I actively support ever won The Big Prize. Ireland haven't won the Grand Slam since 1948, and Mayo haven't won an All-Ireland since 1951.

I'm savouring this one.

Post script: Glad to see that those who voted in my poll overwhelmingly went for Munster.
But who was the solitary voter for Biarritz? Come on, own up!