As a nation collectively clinked glasses and pumped fists, Bernard Dunne thumped the pads in preparation for his own date with destiny.
A keen observer of most sports, the charismatic Dub had roared on the Irish rugby team with the rest of us as Stephen Jones' last-play kick dropped short, and Ireland clinched their first Grand Slam in 61 years. And then it was gametime.
For the general Irish sports fan, Dunne's ensuing war with Panamanian sensation Ricardo Cordoba will forever be perceived as the cherry on top of one of Irish sporting history's most monumental days. He's more than fine with that, and maintains that the island-scaling wildness which preceded his WBA World super-bantamweight title fight adds to the legacy of his own career-defining showdown, keeping it alive in the memory of viewers who wouldn't necessarily identify with the sport of boxing.
Those who do remember it as one of the finest standalone contests ever to take place on these shores; indeed, such was its blood-curdling and compelling nature, word spread further afield that Dublin's Point Depot had witnessed something special. Despite being televised exclusively on RTÉ, Dunne-Cordoba footage inevitably travelled Stateside via Youtube and was subsequently voted ESPN's Fight Of The Year.
HBO's boxing review of 2009 saw Max Kellerman label Dunne-Cordoba "the best action fight of 2009."
"Ireland's Ber-NAWRD Dunne," gushed Kellerman, "fighting in front of his hometown crowd against Ricardo Cordoba: An all-out slugfest with six knockdowns."
We're now approaching eight years since Dunne ripped the world title from an exhausted and battered Maestrito. Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, that comes as news to the man himself.
It's funny, you said that a minute ago and, genuinely, I had no idea. I think it's only around now when I'd start to appreciate the magnitude of it. It's definitely crazy to think that it's been eight years.
But even last year, I completely missed the date. It went straight past me until I was out walking and someone shouts across to me, 'Happy anniversary, champ'!
The fight gained international recognition, which was nice. It was a good fight, a great fight. But to me, it was just a fight. Fair enough, I beat Ricardo Cordoba and won a world title, and it was 'the dream'. But what's the difference between that and, say, my professional debut? What makes winning a world title more important than your first ever fight? Both are equally important.
It's a curious perception of a moment which, to those of us outside the ropes that famous March night in 2009, struck as a culmination of a life's work for one of Ireland's sporting heroes.
There, celebrating ballistically atop the ropes, stood a fighter who had amassed an outstanding amateur record of 119 wins and a meagre 11 defeats, but missed out on qualification for the Sydney Olympics. There stood a fighter who turned professional in America in 2001, training under the famed Freddie Roach at the latter's Wild Card Gym, alongside future icons such as Manny Pacquiao.
There stood a man who, after 14 victories Stateside, made the bold call to return to Dublin, where his manager Brian Peters negotiated a groundbreaking deal for his fights to be broadcast on RTÉ; a man who clinched an EBU European strap when it actually meant something, only to lose it in 87 humiliating seconds - in front of a massive Irish tv audience, no less - just four fights later.
Dunne was a man written off by the Irish public, yet less than two years after crumbling at the feet of Kiko Martinez inside a round, brought a first world title scrap in 13 years back to his boxing-starved home city of Dublin. At last, he partook in one of the most extraordinary fights to ever grace Irish soil, picking himself off the canvas twice to both banish his demons and become champion of the world; his crowning moment born of 20-odd years' preparation.
Again, this was the view from the safe side of the ropes. Dunne's is slightly different:
The two belts were in the boot of me car for two, three years. Lying there in black plastic bags. It's only now the boss lady is sorting something on the wall!
I've never watched my fights back. I'll sit back and reflect when I'm grey and old. I believe that if you think to yourself, 'I've achieved what I want to achieve', and you sit there content, thinking you're great, you're going nowhere in life. I could sit here and tell you I'm a former European champion, former world champion, a 13-time national champion, and all of that, but why should I dwell on it? All of that is in the past. I'm focused on looking ahead to the future.
It was just another fight. I wasn't thinking of fighting to win a world title, I was thinking of fighting Ricardo Cordoba. And I knew I could win, because I was ready. I was ready. I had put in the work, I was extremely well prepared, and I went into the ring confident. And people can say, 'oh, he's cocky' - people said that about me in my career. But I don't think I was cocky; I was confident because I had prepared accordingly.
Actor Matt Damon once spoke of the feeling of apathy which washed over him when he won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting at the tender age of 27. He realised while holding the award that he might have been rabidly chasing an Oscar his entire life, only to discover in his 80s that his craft's Holy Grail wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Dunne, it would seem, learned a similar lesson when he reached the pinnacle of his own profession:
I wouldn't say it's apathy. But you spend however long, it could be your whole life, working towards something. And then you finally get it. Then what? Where do you go from there? What's next?
It's like waiting your whole life to have a drink, and then you're 18, and you have a drink. It's alright, but it's not exactly unbelievable. It's not great, is it?
Say the first time you have sex... Remember the first time you had sex? You build it up in your head, it's such a big deal, and then it happens. You remember. It wasn't great, was it?
At the time, this writer was unavailable for comment.
Look, I'm not trying to sound corny, but I have two kids, you know? I have friends, and family, and other things going on. I have a life.
But at the same time, I don't want to understate it or downplay it; I was delighted to win it, don't get me wrong.
But I was far more delighted for the people who got me there from day one: My coaches, my family. And the supporters, the people who come up to you on the streets and tell you where they were when they watched it, and what it meant to them.
It was definitely an unbelievable moment, and an unbelievable moment for all of them to witness that. To win the world title for my locality, to win it for my country, and what I represented, and to see the people's reactions: That's what makes me happy.
And make no mistake about it, I'll always be Bernard Dunne the boxer.
Of course, he's now much more than that. He jokes that the Dublin footballers call him a lot worse than 'Bernard Dunne the boxer', and explains that he's currently writing the second season to a tv show, and intends to write a number of books in the not-too-distant future.
He mentions on a number of occasions that he's still only 37, and explains that while it's no longer his calling, boxing acted as his springboard to achieving so much more outside of it. Of course, he keeps a keen eye on Irish boxing's talented up-and-comers, and is sat in Dublin's National Stadium to promote a deal which sees eirSport add BoxNation to its sports package.
As Ireland's last 'mainstream boxer', Dunne is fully aware of the potentially beneficial impact such a television deal could have on the careers of Ireland's professional boxers. To kick off a potentially game-changing venture, Saturday's mouth-watering Belfast card featuring Jamie Conlan, Paddy Barnes and a host of other Irish pugilistic prospects will be available for all eirSport customers, where in the past BoxNation remained a niche, subscription-based channel for ardent fans.
"It's obviously great news for boxing in this country," says Dunne.
Look, we all know, boxing in Ireland needs to be on tv. There's no two ways about it. Fighters need exposure to grow fanbases, to get big fights back home.
I fought in front of 500,000 people when I won the world title. We need more of that. And it will take time, but it's funny, the head of RTÉ Sport when I fought on RTÉ was Glen Killane, who has recently become Managing Director of eirSport. I know Glen and he loves boxing. He did great work to grow the sport in the past, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what ideas he has with this new deal. But it's great exposure for our fighters, and badly needed.
As the last man to truly transcend the pro game in this country, few understand the value of exposure better than Dunne. He admits that he's not the man to ask why half a million people tuned in to watch him slug his way to world glory eight years ago, but he wants the likes of the Conlan brothers, Paddy Barnes, Katie Taylor and Jason Quigley to replicate his transcending of their sport in a country where pro boxing has been in the doldrums since 2011.
"Maybe years away when I'm an old man, I can sit and reflect on it all," he says.
Hopefully, by then, the belts will be hung above the mantelpiece.
BoxNation is available to all eir Sport pack subscribers from March 9th on eir Vision & the eir Sport App. eir Sport pack customers on Sky already have access to the channel.
