Hors de Combat:So everyone has got it off their chests now. Amid all the turmoil, the shattered optimism and the tattered dreams, surely there must be some positive to pick up from the debris?
Eh, well, we scored a try in Parc des Princes for the first time since 1980. Admittedly we haven't played there since 1996, but still, we're talking about debris here.
Eddie O'Sullivan often reminded us in the lead-up to the World Cup that you learn more from your defeats then your victories. That may well be true, but for the love of BOD there must be an easier way to learn than this.
As he was forced to remind us often in his unique vernacular during this World Cup: "You can't un-ring a bell."
Not for the want of trying, says you, but after this truly shocking fiasco was exposed in the most humiliating manner, perhaps the more accurate phrase would be, "You can't un-sign a contract (thanks be to God)".
Having spent the last two weeks in Paris with the task of injecting some comedy into a TV documentary for RTÉ based on Ireland's campaign, I'm a little drained. Being anywhere near the Irish set-up reminded me of the pity I used to feel as a boy for anyone attending boarding school.
The ill-attended, down-beat press conference before the Argentina match was like morning assembly. Caution pervaded the conditioned air in the the big dark room as Principle O'Sullivan, flanked by his best boy, made their way up to the stage and the bright lights.
Head Prefect, or "Media Manager", Karl Richardson stood up, stuck out his chest, folded his arms and announced in his Personal Fitness Instructor accent: "Okay, this is a press conference."
Oh, is that what it is? I thought.
He went on: "We've got the Irish coach Eddie O'Sullivan and the Irish captain Brian O'Driscoll. Okay let's go!"
I'm not sure if he thought all the scribes and snappers present needed to be reminded of where they were, or whether they might not know the names of two individuals whose faces have been omnipresent in almost every sports report for the last seven years, but to say it was stating the obvious is stating the obvious. See? I've been around them too long.
BBC Northern Ireland's line of questioning was about as all-inclusive as Eddie O's selection policy.
"Eddie, this is a huge game for you and the whole team, how has the preparation been affected by the irregular heart-beat of Simon Best?"
A question which contained a considerable number of potholes, it has to be said. Answering with considered concern, he deftly swerved around the bumps and assured everyone that this was not life-threatening and that Simon was fine.
Moving on then - oh no, he's back with another one: "But there's no Ulster representative whatsoever in the starting 15. Why have you made the decision to pick Jerry Flannery at hooker instead of Ulster's Rory Best?"
It's around this time I actually feel sorry for Eddie O as he struggles to find the most tactful or tactical way of constructing his answer. He's not being paid to be a politician after all.
Or is he? Oh yes he is.
I was on the verge of leaping up and saying, "The reason Rory Best is on the bench is because a pissed tortoise would throw the ball straighter. And quicker". But Eddie came up with the usual bag of diplomatic tricks and took on the next question without breaking stride. I suppose that's why he is where he is.
You could almost here the "boys" in the IRFU saying: "Well handled Eddie. That's worth at least another four years."
Non-event over, we retired to a bustling Parisian brasserie for what turned out to be an impassioned debate about the hideousness of Ireland's Call.
We went through everything. It's not an anthem, it's not our anthem, the tune is bad, it's a bad compromise - and as for the lyrics? But what's worst of all is the players look embarrassed by it, so it instills in them the exact opposite emotion of what other players feel belting theirs out with heart-felt pride.
The debate centred not so much on whether we liked it - because we are all unified in our deep loathing of it - but on what would you replace it with? Amhrán na Bhfiann? No, it's not the Republic of Ireland, it's all of Ireland. Well, what about translating Ireland's Call into Gaeilge? Now there's an idea. So it would start Tiocfaidh ár lá. Okay forget it.
It's amazing how important these things seem when we're losing, but it was much easier to discuss that than the depressing subject of Ireland's rugby. At least the anthem was something to get emotional about. Maybe that's what Eddie O meant when he said you learn more from losing than winning. You realise your anthem's shit.
I hope the wonderful players we have don't give up the fight, and they continue to believe in their immense talent and courage and, perhaps most importantly, in each other.
In all the post mortems over the coming weeks, let's remember - to use a certain person's parlance - if a tooth is decaying it's not the bit you can see that's the problem, it's the bit you can't.
