Rugby/ Six Nations: Like a human wave the thousands of Irish supporters swept down Twickenham's stands to soak in the Irish team's lap of honour. Heaven knows how much they had spent to find their way there, or even to procure tickets, and they were as entitled to share and milk those moments with the players as anyone.

A little part of English soil had briefly become Irish. Hey, not many times you get to say that.

Though their pockets may not have been bulging after a still glorious Cheltenham, those betting slips were all on the Irish winner this time, and Ireland's eighth Triple Crown was all the sweeter for being clinched for the first time in English rugby's citadel.

The skills of Irish supporters in obtaining tickets no matter the difficulties or the cost appear peerless (think of Giants Stadium, 1994). If there is to be a party, we're damned if we're going to miss it.

Apart from the odd, curious onlooker, the Swing Low brigade had left the premises, long since drowned out by The Fields reverberating around the ground, and the post-match scenes suggested the Irish numbered between 15-20,000 of the reduced 70,000 capacity.

While negotiating Twickenham's vast complex for the post-match inquisitions, you could have closed your eyes, listened to the buzz from its many bars and presumed the home team had won. There was a distinctly Irish hum in the London air. The music being played, the songs being sung, the accents of the elated shouts and screams.

Having been forced to watch a party unfold in Cardiff a year ago, the players and management jigged, danced and hugged, tricolours were proudly waved and the bracing cold had been forgotten; you'd have had to have a heart of stone not to feel the emotion.

And nowhere was the joy more unconfined than on the pitch.

Shane Horgan, a fitting hero of the hour after an exceptional campaign, tried to put the feelings into words.

"It's very difficult, obviously sheer elation," the winger said. "What I find most, it's nice to be around your friends and the guys that you play with and we all go through this together."

Reflecting on Ireland's tough autumn, he added: "Things didn't go exactly like we would have liked, but when you look around and see guys like Ronan O'Gara, Brian O'Driscoll and Paul O'Connell, these guys deserve their achievements because of the nature of the men, and that's where I think you derive most joy."

For all the warnings from Eddie O'Sullivan and Brian O'Driscoll that if Ireland were to win they would have to play for the full 80 minutes, and that it would come down to one score, you could hardly have scripted it.

On the occasion of the old championship's 1,000th match, the last act came down to the 1,199th minute out of 1,200 played in the 2006 championship. Talk about timing: the fat lady was clearing her throat.

Tries off deft chips over advancing blitz defences were a defining feature of the last day, and the rush sent through the ground even when O'Gara gave O'Driscoll a chip to accelerate on to was indescribable. Perhaps because we knew it was O'Driscoll, born like few others to play this game. Perhaps because of the capricious nature of a bouncing rugby ball.

What happened next is why sport is unique in the entertainment industry. It's not like going to the theatre, the cinema or a concert, and it ain't fiction. There is no artistic licence with the truth. It happens, unscripted and unpredictably, in front of your eyes.

But even this last, last defining act typified the day's rollercoaster ride. First, as O'Driscoll latched on to the chip and then sent Shane Horgan away, it looked like the Triple Crown was on.

Then, as Lewis Moody made his covering tackle, it seemed those hopes were dashed. Even when Horgan touched down off Stringer's quick-witted cut-out pass, there was the anxious wait for the verdict of the television match official.

But sport can be ridiculously fickle. Had there not been that dramatic denouement this would surely have been seen as a lost opportunity against an English side so there for the taking.

The headlines would have been different, the analysis would have been less euphoric, player ratings might have been down.

That some of us should now supposedly eat humble pie doesn't entirely stack up. That there were flaws in Ireland's coaching, preparation and employment of a talented group of players was a feeling common to huge numbers of supporters. In a sense, and this isn't simply being clever, Saturday merely underlined that.

But to O'Sullivan's credit, and that of his staff and the players, from the humble origins of November, an uninspired display against Italy and a headless first 50 against France, a more empowered team grew as the championship progressed, culminating in their best performance of the season.

Afterwards, O'Sullivan struck all the right chords.

"We are a better team now than we were six months ago, because we had difficult times, and we had to look at ourselves, and we had to ask ourselves if we're going in the right direction.

"It's not about vindication, it's about becoming a better rugby team, and it's not done yet. I'm not going to get carried away, I'm very proud of the team, but it's just part of growing as a team."

"A big stepping stone on to bigger things," as said O'Driscoll.

Now that would be something.

WEEKEND RESULTS

England 24 Ireland 28

Wales 16 France 21

Italy 10 Scotland 13

IRELAND'S TRIPLE CROWNS

2006 (Wales 31-5, Scotland 15-9, England 28-24)

2004 (Wales 36-15, England 19-13, Scotland 37-16)

1985 (Scotland 18-15, Wales 21-9, England 13-10)

1982 (Wales 20-12, England 16-15, Scotland 21-12)

1949 (England 14-5, Scotland 13-3, Wales 5-0)

1948 (England 11-10, Scotland 6-0, Wales 6-3)

1899 (England 6-0, Scotland 9-3, Wales 3-0)

1894 (England 7-5, Scotland 5-0, Wales 3-0)