Michael Bradley walked into the conference room, followed by a battered and bandaged Mark McHugh, and the portable television in the corner caught his eye.

It was broadcasting the early scenes from Lansdowne Road and Bradley was inevitably drawn towards the familiar red of Munster, the bright sunshine and the scale of the occasion. It was a reminder that there was life beyond Prospect Hill.

For a few seconds, player and coach watched the silent pictures and then Bradley, forcing a smile, turned the television set off. The Sportsground was already emptying as Bradley got down to brass tacks.

"Basically, we created a lot of opportunities and we didn't take them," he shrugged. "There was a stage in the game when we were playing very well and we were controlling things completely, and we did create the chances during that period. But it was a good contest. Harlequins are a good side and they had the fight to stay in it here."

As ever, Bradley was resourceful and brave after his options at full back were narrowed - he was loath to move McHugh from the centre, where he was hammering at Quins with great effect. Perhaps in the critical last 10 minutes, fatigue caught them.

"Well, I don't know, I mean, we were pounding the Harlequins line five minutes into injury time."

Defeat here means that Connacht have failed in one of the stated ambitions, to land some silverware.

"That was one of the objectives, yeah. But I suppose just minutes after the game it is still quite raw and there are a lot of very disappointed guys here who worked with great determination all season. And we played well, but if you don't take your chances. . ."

McHugh looked shattered. He gave an immense performance, spoiled marginally by that 67th-minute penalty that sailed across the posts.

"I struck it well," he remembered, "but I think I just pulled it slightly and it drifted.

"Overall, I think that courage and guts could only take us so far - maybe we lacked a bit of guile and skill at key moments. We came close out there and it was disappointing, because the crowd were really terrific and I hope this encourages them to support us for the rest of the season and next year."

Harlequins coach Mark Evans strolled into the room looking like a man who had just enjoyed a long, relaxing Sunday lunch. He admitted, though, that he had endured a nerve-wracking second half.

"By the skin our teeth! We were really looking down the barrel of a gun there and just weren't in the game. We didn't see much of the ball, and that was a combination of Connacht's great ball retention and - well, we have always been a bit of a hit-and-run team. It's a stylistic thing.

"Connacht had to throw the kitchen sink at it and they did - with some enthusiasm. But I thought they tired and had a lot of injuries, and just felt it was a bit too early for them to start time wasting. It meant that the ferocity eased in the first and second challenges in the ruck and we got a few phases together and got that battering try.

"I was a bit perturbed when Paul (Burke) missed the conversion, but even afterwards we controlled. They had a put in late on and for the first time in the whole game we just rammed their scrum. I felt the game was won right there."

Evans observed that when Harlequins had qualified for the Challenge Cup final a few seasons ago, it was through Connacht's tight, controlled and methodical style. The extent to which he has reinvented his team into a free-running, flair unit speaks volumes for his confidence.

Asked whether this encounter demonstrated that the Celtic League was unfairly deemed to be inferior to the Premiership, Evans quickly said, "It is inferior," and then gave a long lecture as to why.

After that, there was nothing more to say and the Englishman bade thanks and took his leave.