But while that fulfilled most predictions, it could very easily have turned out differently. The real difference in two pulsatingly intense contests was that Toulouse and Munster had the nous and inner confidence of teams who’ve been there, done that and know how it is done while Irish and Saracens were in uncharted territory.

They emerge, though, with immense credit and will be that much better equipped next time they reach the later stages of a major competition. Too bad that, for the Heineken at least, they’ll probably have to wait two years. Neither is likely to crack the Premiership top six and France will now claim the floating seventh place courtesy of Toulouse’s place in the final.

Both finalists will go to Cardiff reflecting that their summit meeting can hardly be much tougher than the matches that got them there. Both concluded with the losers pressing desperately – Irish winning a penalty just too late for the kick to corner, line-out and drive that might just have taken them to the final, while Saracens were unable to create the field position that would have given Glen Jackson a shot at the drop-goal they needed. It is poor compensation for what they really wanted, but both losers scored the most memorable tries – in each case the opener.

Topsy Ojo’s solo surge for Irish also provoked one of the quirky moments in which this weekend abounded as he was swamped by men in red shirts – and it was a moment before it dawned that this was not the beginning of a post-try punch-up but the Irish substitutes charging to congratulate him from where they had been exercising behind the dead-ball line.

Sarries opener at Coventry was even better, a length-of-the-pitch effort launched by Richard Haughton from near his own line and carried on by Kameli Ratuvou who looked in this match close to the form that made him one of the best attackers in the World Cup. The Fijian chipped, chased, regathered, sent Adam Powell charging towards the line and was then perfectly placed to pick up and plunge over from the ruck that formed when Powell was brought down just short.

Anyone lucky enough to be there will remember these scores for a long time. But such memories will also encompass the heroic efforts of the Toulouse pack – long the unconsidered element in their consistent success – the extraordinary sight of Easter Islander Fabien Pelous making two clean breaks (too bad the old boy doesn’t pass as well as he did in his back row
days) and the superb passing that created the time and space for Manu Ahotaeiola to cut back inside for Toulouse’s first score.

Thierry Dusautoir showed courage simply by being there and taking his place on the bench three days after burying his father while Byron Kelleher battled through a limping last quarter knowing that there was only one back available among
the replacements.

If Toulouse winning through forward power was unusual, Munster’s modus operandi was more familiar, never quite showing the cutting edge that demolished Gloucester in the quarter-final. Saracens drove them to the limit, the ferocity of their opening assault echoing Munster’s semi-final against Leinster two years ago. This too had its oddities – the sight of Ronan O’Gara blasting a conversion so high over the posts that the touch judges were unable to adjudicate and referee Nigel Owens had to refer to TMO Derek Bevan before ruling that O’Gara had, astonishingly, missed from almost in front, then the bizarre hiatus at the first scrum following the sin-binning in rapid succession of both Sarries props.

Nor can either match be faulted for atmosphere. Sarries fans made enough noise to ensure that Coventry did not become a West Midland Thomond Park, while the thousand or so Toulouse followers who made the long trek to Twickenham – where packing everyone apart from media into the bottom tier meant that a stadium barely one third full still generated real excitement – also made themselves felt. Here’s hoping the final is remotely as good.