Stephen Cluxton spared Mayo the decorous indignity of 'three cheers' in his post-game speech, but the GAA couldn't help themselves.
As Dublin descended the steps of the Hogan Stand, and Mayo had to come to terms with yet another All-Ireland final defeat, the Croke Park PA system decided to sodomise another fine sporting occasion with the grammatically questionable and lyrically atrocious 'I Gotta Feeling', by the Black Eyed Peas.
'I Gotta Feeling' is the new 'Shipping Up To Boston' by the Dropkick Murphys: the utterly awful song which stadium announcers believe should be blasted out at every available opportunity.
While Croke Park's decision to kill any natural atmosphere by blaring themed-music over the speakers as soon as the full-time whistle goes is questionable, the bizarre loyalty to the Black Eyed Peas need to stop, for a number of different reasons.
Firstly, it's old. While it could be excused in 2009, and maybe in 2010 when it was somewhat fresh, now it's hideously dated. So if Croke Park think they're being down with the kids by pressing play on I Gotta Feeling: they're wrong. It's about as current as the days when hurling teams just went 'man-to-man' and -toe-to-toe'.
Secondly, the song belongs in the darkest recesses of the Irish sporting mind, given that it was the backing track to one of our darkest moments: it was played over the speaker system in the Stade de France in the play-off against the French. Remember, when Thierry Henry sat down beside Richard Dunne, in an act of the most egregious insincerity? The act which may have been worse than the handball in the first place?
The Black Eyed Peas were all over that occasion. I Gotta Feeling is cauterised in the deepest reaches of the brain of the true Irish sporting fan, and Croke Park's persistence in playing that bloody song is a betrayal of that fan. A rejection of their very own.
Also, it's not in anyway Irish. The members are from various parts of California, none of which are hurling strongholds. At least the Dropkick Murphys pretend to be Irish.
But the main reason the playing of the song in Croke Park needs to end is quite simple: it's just really crap.
The crux of the song is telling you to have a good time, which reeks of the kind of 'organised fun' that Mary from Accounts will put on in a corporate office for team-building purposes. It's the musical equivalent of Laser Tag with people you don't like at 3 in the afternoon.
The lyrics are also a congealed mess of uneasy rhymes and absurd repetition: in terms of bad structures featured in Croke Park, it's right up there with the Championship.
Consider the song's listing of the days of the week. It begins listing them, only to realise that they've to hit eight beats. Therefore, in a movement of great lyrical dexterity and songwriting versatility, the Black Eyed Peas repeat 'Saturday'. Of course, not everyone singing along to the song immediately hits on this act of ingenious subversion, so many end up repeating 'Monday'. Who wants to hear so much about Monday!?
Like both attacks in this year's Connacht final, the Black Eyed Peas also have very little interest in the arts of subtlety or variation: 'tonight' is said 26 times in the song, and the adjective 'good' appears a staggering 32 times in 4 minutes and 52 seconds.
Ultimately, we need this song deleted from our lives, and we should not rest until it is removed from the setlist of every wedding band in the country.
But Croke Park can take the first step.