The beast prevailed over the beauty. The muscle of Munster and the elegance of Toulouse was always likely to produce an evening of contrasts. Munster were content for the most part to take the speed and subtlety out of the French game, while Toulouse knew that the broken field was essential if they were to escape the claustrophobic clutch of an Irish team who played with profound pragmatism.

It is impossible not to admire the the intelligence and passion of this proud Irish province, but deep inside a light was extinguished as Toulouse failed to light the touchpapers and ignite the occasion. The slower and darker the collisions, the more it suited Munster.

Romantics will mourn the fact that by the end Toulouse may as well have been playing in total darkness. Munster had shut them out and the Toulouse doors of perception were slammed in their faces for another year.

The giants of Europe are slowly being chopped down to size because their inability to grind out the gritty moments is costing them matches against teams that possess the iron discipline of Munster.

Toulouse were expected to play in fifth gear for patches of the game, but only for the first 20 minutes were they able to stretch the Irish team. Jean-Baptiste Elissalde had three opportunities to reward Toulouse’s ambition, but with only the one successful score in that period it was always likely that Munster would claw their way back into contention.

When Munster had their 10 minutes of pressure in the first half, they managed a point a minute. In a game played on a knife-edge this was tantamount to an avalanche and, indeed, whilst Toulouse were to eventually level the scores for a brief spell, they were never to lead again and never to quell Munster’s 16th man, that gave the stadium such a supercharged atmosphere.

The fundamental reason why Toulouse could not create their traditional brand of mayhem was the complete victory of the Munster pack at the breakdown. In the second half especially, the Munster back row pilfered turnover ball. The best Toulouse managed was achingly slow possession which lacked sufficient pace to destructure a Munster defence that is as parsimonious as any in the game.

Too often the net result was that Elissalde forced the passes wide before the Munster midfield had been sucked into the point of contact. Men like Doug Howlett ushered their counterparts into touch and out of danger. When Guy Noves reviews the performance, he will be dismayed at just how little Toulouse created from normal sources of attacking ball.

The one glorious exception was Cédric Heymans, whose cut and thrust in counter-attack was the most beguiling memory of the match. In particular, his audacious chip and chase which led to the sole Toulouse try and briefly lifted their hopes of victory was a moment of the purest class.

Alas for Toulouse, it was to be the only moment. They relied too much upon the sweeping counter-attack as a means to threaten Munster. Such a high-risk style is always likely to be suffocated by a team that knows how to drop a net on the opposition and slow them down. Even had Vincent Clerc — one of the best wings in the world this season — been fit to play, his presence would almost certainly have been insufficient to swing the tide Toulouse’s way.

These tight-margin results can be deceptive. There may only have been three points in it but from

the moment Munster took the lead with about 20 minutes to go, Toulouse never looked as if they could win this final. A team that can captivate with the swagger of their genius cannot reclaim the crown of European champions until the basics are better in the tightest of circumstances, such as yesterday’s.

Nobody epitomises the frustrating genius of this team more than their captain, Fabien Pelous. A second-row with a sublime ability to slip the pass out of tackles, the most capped Frenchman of them all failed to maintain his discipline under pressure. The sin-bin incident in the 51st minute was incredibly harsh on the skipper but nevertheless it was a moment of, if not madness, daftness; daftness can cost you trophies as much as skill can win it. For all his skilful distribution it will be the petty kick aimed at the backside of Alan Quinlan which most spectators and Pelous himself will remember longest. The captain will rue the moment because it cost his team three points that were to prove the difference on the scoreboard and a player for 10 minutes when Toulouse typically pick up the pace of their game.

Quite how Nigel Whitehouse saw fit to suggest 10 minutes in the bin for such an insignificant moment may have Toulouse fans wondering for weeks and months to come. But why such an experienced player even bothered to become so involved is the greater mystery, and the question to which Toulouse must find answers.

This was a final when the silly trumped the sublime and Toulouse will not win more European cups until such aberrations are eliminated.