A leisurely afternoon of ice-cream and sunshine and an unfolding landslide in Dungarvan. With 10 minutes remaining in this ridiculously one-sided Bank of Ireland Munster championship match, a sense of disquiet had settled on the crowd, as though to spectate was to comply with the ransacking of the home team's self respect.

Not that Cork can be accused of show-boating their way to the win; it would have been more insulting to Waterford had they visibly eased up. Instead, they foraged diligently through the 70 minutes and afterwards most of those concerned admitted that they were too busy ensuring the retention of their own place on the team to allow feelings of sympathy for Waterford to seep through.

Even though Waterford were theoretically still in touch at the break - they trailed by 0-3 to 0-9 and had fired five wides - there was always the danger that Cork would open up with the breeze at their backs. But few could have predicted the gushing passage of scores which would dominate the last half hour.

Waterford had survived initially by cramming players behind the Cork half forwards and persistently clearing ball to nothing, but they were simply crushed after the turn around, with Michael O'Sullivan and substitute Fachtna Collins in control around midfield and the Cork half-forward line picking up breaks at apparent will.

From the outset, novel full forward Damien O'Neill was Cork's target man and that made for a joyless afternoon for George Walsh, who spent his day chasing the big man's tail.

Ostensibly, the O'Neill experiment was inspired; he nailed 1-5, linked wonderfully with Joe Kavanagh and Mark O'Sullivan and came first for almost every ball. But given the nature of the contest it will be difficult for Cork manager Larry Tompkins to assess the true worth of his presence there.

Elsewhere for Cork, Ronan McCarthy busied himself with sweeping up ball around centre half back while Ciaran O'Sullivan and Martin Cronin, in particular, treated themselves to often unhindered breaks forward. Similarly, the Cork half-forward trio revelled in prairies of space and at times the visiting front six indulged themselves with stings of over-elaboration which won't have drawn smiles from Larry Tompkins.

But when they moved the ball swiftly they were devastating, and they have troublesome target men in Kavanagh, Phillip Clifford and Mark O'Sullivan.

The Waterford back six found themselves under merciless pressure from the off and although they bunched valiantly and hacked at clearances until the break, they had precious little opportunity to build.

Occasionally, there were glimpses; after 24 minutes, Michael O'Brien threaded a ball for Colin Keane, who tipped on for Martin Power to hammer home a neat point. But such sequences were isolated.

Power and his namesake Richard coped gamely with what ball came their way but as the minutes ticked on the collective effort became more leaden. The dismissal of George Walsh after 46 minutes for a second bookable offence precipitated a goal deluge.

Up to then, Cork had been contentedly drilling points from play and dead balls but with a Joe Kavanagh snapshot from 25 metres hinted at loftier intentions as the match descended into pitiful target practice.

O'Neill freed Mark O'Sullivan who fired low for the first goal after 48 minutes and the same player blazed another gift wide before O'Neill himself blasted past Ciaran Cotter after 61 minutes.

The nature of the final goal was unhappily appropriate: Aidan Dorgan slipped a pass to Kavanagh, his shot rebounded off Cotter and back into the hands of Dorgan. The impish wing forward planted the final sting at a casual pace. By then, even the referee had seen enough.

The visitors were unremittingly clinical over the course of the game and Tompkins has obviously honed a keen sense of purpose and energy. Sure, his team played with dash and no little flair at times but as the scores kept mounting it was difficult to see what could be learned from this.

It was, potentially, a soul-destroying day for the home side who will have to regroup now for the B championship with the memories of an abysmal day in their history still fresh. If they manage to do even that, it will be a testament to their strength of character. Cork, well, they at least lost no admirers.