So for the minor incidental of the match itself. The hype having reached stratospheric levels, a record 25,000-strong Irish support party have literally had their heads in the clouds over the 72 hours prior to today's 3.00 kick-off and countless others will be with them at Twickenham in spirit. A nation expects and all that.

And therein lies the rub to a degree, for there happens to be another team taking the field in today's Heineken Cup final. It's almost taken as read that Munster will emulate Ulster's achievement and provide an equally unforgettable postscript to Irish rugby history. When coaches bemoan excessive expectations, Declan Kidney this past week would understand what they mean. But he seems to be wearing it well.

Asked at yesterday's press conference in Twickenham how the players had slept the previous night, the sharp-witted Munster coach retorted: "Well, I didn't sleep with them," prompting guffaws of laughter. "I draw the line somewhere."

"They all looked chirpy enough at breakfast this morning anyhow," he added, pointing out that there's always distractions of some sort. "It's just a great occasion to be part of."

In this and other utterances, Kidney almost seemed to be too cute in playing the happy-go-lucky Irishman, who's just happy to be here. No doubt he is, of course, but it's the Munster Brains Trust's uncanny ability to get the players' mental pitch right - plus the team's mix of savvy and youth, and their innate level-headedness - which softens any fears that the occasion might in any way get the better of them, or that they're due a bad one.

Munster haven't had a bad one yet this season and they're unlikely to start now. A slight problem is that Northampton might well produce a big 80-minute performance as well, which would possibly be the first Munster would have run into. As Pat Lam, their fulminating Samoan number eight pointed out yesterday, the two finalists probably have the best team spirit of any two sides in the competition.

Scotching any notion of favouritism, Munster clearly have due respect for their opponents and with good reason. For more than half the season, Northampton were the best team in England. For sure, facing into their 40th competitive game of the campaign (as opposed to Munster's 15th) they're a bit battered and bruised, and have palpably been running on empty in winning only two of their last eight games. But now the finishing line is in sight.

As much as there's a sense of destiny about Munster's odyssey a similar feeling must pervade Northampton. Incredibly, they've never won a trophy in their 120-year existence. And much like Munster's daunting semi-final "away" to Toulouse, must feel that the fates have been conspiring against them to such a degree lately that today is their day.

Northampton's pack is an estimated 16 stone heavier than Toulouse's were, and thus is reckoned to be about 10-11lb per man heavier than Munster's. Try-scoring ideas having diminished of late, they've resorted to their pack's ball retention and the trusty boot of Paul Grayson to steer them home, garnering 60-70 per cent of the possession and the territory, and secure in the knowledge that if they didn't score a try a three-pointer would surely come their way from prolonged visits to the opposition 22.

So, initially, they'll surely try to grind Munster down up front in what promises to be as physically challenging as any contest Mick Galwey and company have faced this season.

The Munster pack will know they're in a game alright. The degree to which they can win primary ball and then retain possession will go most of the way to determining their chances.

Were Munster to obtain anything in the region of 50 per cent of the possession, then once again you'd more than half fancy them. They have regrouped brilliantly as a defensive blanket whenever a first-up tackle has been missed.

They'll assuredly have to absorb lengthy bouts of pressure again. Heretofore this has been augmented by a remarkable ability to score tries in big games at times when they've been needed. Whether or not the playmakers-in-chief, Ronan O'Gara and Mike Mullins, can help Munster repeat that priceless trick remains to be seen, but Kidney's team do seem better suited to playing a more dynamic game at a higher tempo - when their ever-improving skill levels come to prominence.

There's something of an ironic volte-face then about this English-Irish match-up. You'd be inclined to think that with every drop of rain Northampton's chances increase, and ditto Munster's with every blue-tinged break in the clouds.

Now comes a slightly unnerving development. It rained steadily from about mid-day onwards in this part of London yesterday, with today's forecast theoretically brighter if showery. "The vagaries of the weather are something you've no control over," said Kidney yesterday, and no doubt despite their desire for a dry day, Munster will cope with whatever the fates decree.

Twickenham has been something of an Irish graveyard too, never more so than last February. But that was prior to Munster backboning the Irish rejuvenation and the sound and sight of roughly 40,000 Irish supporters outnumbering the home crowd is another significant factor in Munster's favour.

Needless to say, the early exchanges and the first try will probably be the biggest pointer to the ultimate outcome. It would be all the better were Munster to strike first and have Lam start to think of his shoulder problem and Budge Pountney his broken nose, along with the rest of their aches and pains.

This Munster lot are a remarkable bunch, no doubt about it. One would struggle to think of an Irish sports team abroad with their mental strength and winning mentality over the last couple of decades. To get to the European Cup final and win the thing in Twickenham would be a fitting tribute.

Peter Clohessy, Mick Galwey, the prodigal Keith Wood home for a year, the adopted John Langford, the cocky Cork kids at half back . . . we may never quite see their like again and as a unit they will almost certainly never take the field again. It's another tough one, it's possibly the biggest game of their lives but you sense their time is now.

Destiny calls them?