Long, long after the moon has risen over Edinburgh, Anthony Foley is leaning casually against the pillar of the great stadium, writes  Keith Dugganat Murrayfield

"Tough place to come, Murrayfield," he says.

The Munster man is dapper in the Irish team suit, and above his right eye he carries a plum-coloured shiner for a souvenir.

"Ah, nothing to worry about," he says. "A clash of heads."

Oh, it was that. Skull against skull and grey matter against grey matter. Ian McGeechan, Scottish rugby's Gandalf the Grey, sat in the afternoon chill and pitted his wits against Eddie O'Sullivan. The grey man is as serene and impossible as Eddie is fast and full of kicks. Long before Geordan Murphy sprinted home from distance for a try that chased away 18 years of grim history, it was becoming clear that this was a day for the Irish coach.

"We went after them," testified Foley. "We went after them in the lineouts and scrums. It's a thing we have to do. We've got a strong pack and so we went after them legally and kept them on their toes and eventually they began to wonder when they were going to get quality ball."

In short, they used the navy-blueprint that left Murrayfield a wrecking yard for so many Irish teams of recent years. They chased and harried and tackled like demons.

"Especially during that 20-minute venture on our own line," recalls Shane Byrne. "It was so important that we didn't leak there. They held the ball for so long. It must have been really demoralising for them not to break us down at that stage."

After that furious, last-gasp attack by the Scottish, something gave within the home team. The centre could not hold. Ireland, emboldened by the recognition that Murrayfield was, after all, just a ground and not some theatre of the damned, began to slow.

"In the past, we came over here and got beaten up at the front, so we weren't able to give any quality ball to the backs," reasoned Foley. "Today we did that. And we got a few tries."

After years of being held in a stranglehold , the Irish broke free with mischievous vengeance.

"And it's another little bit of history this team has made," smiled Byrne. But in the context of a season, it is still just one afternoon.

"We have to go to Italy now and they won't be any pushover," says Peter Stringer. "They'll be on a high after their win against Wales and I reckon they'll be up for our challenge. But our team has to take it one game at a time."

Last time Ireland won over here, the custom was to bathe in champagne or cheap lager. Not in this brave new world. Ireland 2003 celebrated with a warm-down in the local spa and a stroll through town before returning to the banquet.

"It'll have to be a quiet evening with a six-day turnover," muses Byrne. "But walking through town there it looks as if it's pretty hopping." So it's true, the fans' life is the best life? "Yeah. Bloody right."

And after the noise comes the lone sound of Irish laughter around humbled Murrayfield.