To attend a football ground cautiously pessimistic and to leave it cautiously optimistic is no small matter when the ground in question is Windsor Park. That happened on Saturday. We had come to witness naked division and found it covered up by something approaching unity. In its own way this was a small triumph for sense and sensitivity. In the troubled relationship between sectarianism and sport in Northern Ireland such victories are to be cherished. Such victories are rare.

In the wider landscape of the Troubles and the peace process such victories are even rarer. Thus the fact that Neil Lennon arrived at Windsor Park a symbol of sectarianism and left it a symbol of hope should make people think of what can be achieved. The past can be understood, overcome and put to one side.

People stood up and were counted. And, without wanting to make it sound like the triumph of good over evil, that mattered. James Stewart will not be playing the Irish Football Association (IFA) chairman Jim Boyce in the Hollywood version - that's a bit too far - but the IFA deserve genuine praise for their stance. It has been pitched at the right tone: not an easy task in a country where every spit and cough is dissected for its political nuance.

There has been no false indignation, no bluster for the benefit of the cameras. The recognition that the situation was more serious than that was the IFA's first achievement. Their response has been serious too. Aside from those dedicated to community relations it is difficult to think of another equally high-profile organisation that has made such an effort to clear up its back yard before pointing into the rubbish-strewn gardens of its neighbours.

The anti-sectarian campaign, despite its recent publicity, has been a long one. It is just that the jaded and the jaundiced looked at it, thought "Oh aye", and looked away again. But the Neil Lennon affair changed all that. By upping the stakes massively, the bigots who booed and abused Lennon in the Norway "friendly" forced the IFA to raise the profile of their efforts to a point where they overshadowed the game itself. That they reacted so aggressively in a society where the meek have been trampled upon by the bully was a first in itself: 1-0 to the reasonable.

The media, so often blamed for highlighting uncomfortable truths, also warrant small pats on the back. Television, radio and newspaper reporters have not shirked when faced with difficult questions to ask of understandably wary participants.

And on Saturday, Sammy McIlroy, as Prod as the red hand of Ulster, earned a lot of admiration. At the end of a rousing, if ultimately fruitless second-half display, McIlroy gathered all his players together in a circle on the pitch and spoke with gestures that told of his passion and commitment. When the circle broke up the players peeled away and clapped an audience watching every second of it with a jury's scrutiny. It was an emotional moment: not triumphant, just warm. It was what the crowd wanted. Not often in the past few years has there been such a bond. In fact, probably never.

The glue was supplied by McIlroy and Lennon. Both then went to the cameras on the edge of the pitch and spoke with emotion. Lennon admitted he had been nervous about the reaction the first time he touched the ball, and when it was clear it was about to happen there was a collective intake of breath as people waited to hear the bad news. It didn't come. There was a strange mixture of cheers, gulps and relieved sighs.

Later, when Lennon prepared to take a free-kick and was therefore the man in possession for more than a split second, there was an attempt at a chant of "There's only one Neil Lennon". By the end, ordinary football fans had rediscovered their confidence, and as Lennon spoke to the television interviewer the chant almost drowned him out. It did not seem half-hearted, contrived or ironic. Though you never know.

What can be reported with certainty is that in the car-park afterwards Lennon was mobbed with affectionate greetings. He didn't want to talk any more about his experiences but he took the handshakes with a smile.

That this even needs to be reported is a sad indication of just how low things had got. Perhaps sadder is that good news never merits the space given to bad. But this was a good day for Irish football. People left Windsor Park cautiously optimistic. Past the graffiti: "UDA All The Way".