“I’d have to be honest and say that there were periods of that game that we didn’t enjoy,” said Niall Quinn, “but we got there in the end. I remembered Macedonia when we went 1-0 up and looked in complete control but things went pear shaped after that. So we were on tenterhooks in the dug out for a while in the first half. The theory was to come in at half time a couple of goals up but it didn’t work out.”

The interval changes which saw Quinn come on, Damien Duff move to the left and Kevin Kilbane drop back to replace Ian Harte, had the desired effect, but it’s typical of the veteran striker that, while full of praise for the sparkling second half performance of Duff, he also took time to spare a thought for the Leeds full back who had struggled in the first half.

Remembering Harte’s left footed prowess on better days, Quinn said: “It’s hard for him but I had a good chat with him afterwards.”

Nor was Quinn about to overlook the role of the regular Irish 12th man and woman.

“A special word must go to the Green Army — again. God knows who is going to put the right figure on how many were there, maybe anything from 15,000 upwards. You just can’t comprehend it all. We look at other games, other teams, and there doesn’t seem to be a fan to be seen. But our lot, well, they just turn the whole thing upside down.”

But then things have turned happily upside down for Niall Quinn too. “The last two weeks have been fantastic. I’m so glad I got myself fit and persuaded Mick to pick me. Six months ago I wasn’t playing well for Sunderland and I knew Mick had other options. And I didn’t just want to be a number on a plane. I only wanted to come here if I was fit enough to do myself justice. Mick showed great faith in me and I’m delighted for him as a manager to achieve what he has. You can see he’s grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and that,” he laughs, “makes things easier for the players.”

As in Ibaraki, Niall Quinn was the last Irish player to leave the pitch last night, turning to face the massed ranks behind the goal, to give one more salute and receive one more in return. Trying to freeze in the mind an exceptional moment in a sporting life. “I always feel, and maybe even more so out there, that this could be my last game. Y’know? Maybe it’s the last time. And the fans are so brilliant that it’s a special thing looking up at them as a player. And I wanted one last glimpse again. It’s something you can’t bottle but you can certainly try and make the most of it.”

And Quinn is certainly doing that. “I’m delighted I’m playing football for Mick,” he beams. “I know I haven’t scored and that I missed a chance or two but I’m getting stuck in for him. And it’s a wonderful feeling. It’s a million miles from all the politics earlier on in the tournament. You know your family is watching you and you have all this support thousands of miles away from home. I promise you, it doesn’t get any better than this.”

But it almost did, when Quinn unleashed one spectacular volley. “If I’d scored that I think I would have quit on the spot,” he grins. “That would have been a lovely way to go out.”

And then it suddenly seems to dawn on the veteran of the first time, in Italia 90, that last night may not actually have been his last time on the World Cup stage.

“Maybe I’ll come in again if needed in the next game,” he muses. And then another, even more inviting, thought strikes. “Or if we go further. Who knows?”