TV View:Can anyone remember the last Frenchman to settle for only a support role in the limelight? Normally a Frenchman with an inferiority complex is someone who thinks he's just as good as anyone else. In hindsight the inability to remember that cost the collars-up brigade in a big way yesterday.

As anyone will tell you, a story has to have a beginning, middle and end and the Croke Park yarn has been so long in the making that almost unconsciously the presumption grew that the home team would inevitably provide the appropriate twist.

Initially, and not unreasonably, most of the RTÉ coverage was devoted to the Croke Park factor and the cultivation of that presumption.

A half-hour jewel before the main programme began was a snappy little beauty that included an imaginative array of guests who helped tell the history of the stadium, and the significance of one of "those" foreign games being played in it for the first time.

The likes of Kevin Moran and the SDLP politician Séamus Mallon provided a good contrast to the Cork GAA figure Bob Honohan, who could easily have been represented as a reactionary, but happily the temptation to reach for the cartoon paint was resisted.

"When you concede a principle, you have no argument left," Honohan said. "This does nothing to promote Gaelic games."

Significantly, several voices from north of the Border were having none of that.

Joe Brolly did his usual cheeky-chappie turn, although he did describe himself as being "first and foremost a Gael," whatever that means. Mallon, though, provided a genuinely substantive presence.

"Are we saying Shane Horgan can't come to Croke Park because he kicks a different-shaped ball?" Mallon asked. "I think this is a symbol of the new Ireland we all hope to live in."

Such stuff from politicians almost always sounds like cant but Mallon has paid his dues and got away with it.

Tom McGurk took over for the main show and was not going to be outdone in the setting-the-scene stakes.

"We welcome a global television audience to a unique moment in the history of Irish sport," gushed our host. "Garrison meets Gael . . . momentous . . . historic . . Croke Park pumped with emotion - like a tyre!"

McGurk, however, had all the excitement of a glum Bob Dole compared to the screeching anticipation of Ryle Nugent in the commentary box. Even in moments of comparative calm, Ryle can send dogs scurrying for cover.

"This is a seismic occasion for Irish sport. It's a seismic occasion for Irish people. It's a pleasure to be here!" Ryle roared.

Such unbridled enthusiasm might have provoked more than a rumble of unease but George Hook calmed everyone down again.

"Brian O'Driscoll and Peter Stringer being out swings the odds in France's favour. I think that everybody has forgotten in all the excitement that France are a good rugby nation that have beaten us more than we've beaten them," he said.

Since George could have got Arkle beaten in a donkey derby, this was reassurance indeed.

George was right. With characteristic panache, the French turned their noses up at the role assigned to them and went about the job as if they had as much of a right to be on the sacred sward as the home team.

Somehow though, Ireland's ability to graft kept them within spitting distance throughout and when O'Gara's penalty put them ahead, that looked to be that. Yet again, however, everyone got ahead of themselves.

"Put it this way, it makes you feel mighty proud to be Irish," announced Tony Ward in a manner that if used by Brian Moore about England would have had the greener elements at Croker marching north.

But this time there was going to be no French capitulation and they roared through the Irish defence and Monsieur Clerc touched down.

McGurk for one sounded like he was up for getting all Joe Pesci about it, pointing to the Marcus Horan incident where one rugby player actually dared to put his hand on another. But George was having none of.

It might have been disdain, but more than likely he was simply stunned at having been right for once.