Nothing defines the championship in all its stark reality like big matches in the early rounds. Sunday proved the point in spades. Although everyone was well aware that the day would leave two big scalps hanging on the railings, there's still a poignancy about the sight of defeated teams coming to terms with what's befallen them.
There are brave words, frank admissions of having been second-best and cheery shrugging of shoulders about the uncertain future stretching out through the hot, blank months ahead of them. Even the attempts at putting things in perspective have a melancholy ring.
Tommy Lyons's customary ebullience gave way to wistful resignation: "There's more things in life than a game of football and while we're bitterly disappointed, there's nobody dead," said the Offaly boss. The fact that such a grim context was needed to lighten the mood undermined the central point.
It is appropriate in the aftermath of a great levelling like Sunday's to reflect that the months of preparatory effort which go into championship training are as tough for those who fall at the first hurdle as for those whose show runs on into September.
It is also appropriate to acknowledge that in the single-minded focus which burns in the lives of all those associated with contending counties, there are countless sacrifices - not being able to give family occasions your full attention, as Lyons mentioned in relation to his son's communion - with no guarantee of anything more than a handful of dust at the end of your first big match.
Days like Sunday are as much conclusions as beginnings. Meath's powerful display may serve as handy footage to illustrate how they started an All-Ireland-winning campaign in prophetic mood but it also brings down the curtain on a marvellous 12 months for Offaly, a team that covered more distance more quickly than any in recent memory. The sense of conclusion was more marked in Connacht because Offaly may at least come again. Scepticism about Mayo's capacity to keep going for a third successive season with the same cast proved well-founded. Defeat may mean the end of the line for manager John Maughan and few of the older players. As was his experience in Clare, Maughan's reign in Mayo started well and ran out of steam as the limitations of his raw material cast a pall over the collective effort.
Unlike in Clare, Maughan had the opportunity to nail down an All-Ireland with Mayo. The frustration of those near misses in the final and the replay in 1996 must rankle all the more deeply now that the team looks most unlikely to succeed without radical surgery. Maybe he'll stay on for a fourth year but the law of diminishing returns applies.
In the rush to write Mayo's obituary and perhaps Maughan's, it is only fair to pay respect to the distance travelled by the county. When he took it over in the autumn of 1995, Maughan found a county low in esteem after four years of crushing defeat and unhappy dissent had left them stranded in Division Three of the National League.
Bringing to the task his military appreciation of discipline and organisation, Maughan turned things around in the space of a year. It was a remarkable transformation. From third-division also-rans to a team within a minute of an All-Ireland title, Mayo were the final piece in football's jigsaw - a competitive team from Connacht, the first in a generation to come close to bringing Sam Maguire back west.
Amidst the debris of these aborted seasons, a couple of points should be addressed. For a start, it is clear that football needs to follow hurling's example and create more fixtures during the course of the championship. The insistence on absolute sudden-death formats is damaging the game in a couple of ways.
Sunday illustrated this most obviously. Two of the best teams in the country - certainly two who could legitimately harbour long-term ambitions - now have nothing to do. For amateurs who make the sacrifices alluded to above, it is all the more intolerable that so much preparation can be scattered to the wind after 70 minutes.
Aside from the waste of teams' efforts, there is a promotional deficit for the GAA. No other sport organises its premier competition in such a way that so many top teams (Dublin play Kildare in less than a fortnight) can play only one match in a season. (Speaking of promotion, there is the addendum that the involvement - or at least acquiescence - of Croke Park in allowing last Sunday's two matches to take place on the same afternoon beggars belief. Again, can you imagine any other sport etc, etc?)
There is the obvious response that fixtures need dates. Saturday offers an option that was availed of for the Offaly-Meath match last year. But for a radically expanded championship - say, a round-robin guaranteeing three matches for every county - more time would be needed.
One area where the time could be found is in the late spring and early summer weeks currently occupied by the National Leagues. It is plain now that teams in football, and to an extent hurling (Cork in 1993 and Tipperary in '94), who go well in the League diminish their chances in the championship. Offaly weren't inclined to accept this theory after Sunday's match but the facts speak for themselves.
Kerry won the League last year before adding the championship but theirs was a privileged position. Because of the small number of teams in Munster and the lack of competitiveness, a team from the south has a better chance of doing the double.
The only action Kerry saw from the day they beat Cork in the League final, on May 4th last year, to their meeting with Cavan in the All-Ireland semi-final on August 24th was two matches against fourth-division Tipperary and third-division Clare. Had they to face Cork three weeks after the final, the situation would be more analogous to Offaly's last weekend.
Counties from Leinster and Ulster who win the League have problems. An early, ultra-competitive match may find them out. Whether a team likes it or not, winning through the latter stages of the League takes a toll. Offaly are by no means an isolated example.
Dublin in 1991 were caught by Meath in the four-match first-round series; Derry in 1992 later were unable to maintain the awesome tone of their League campaign but a year later, flunked the League quarter-finals and went on to win the All-Ireland. Meath's League winners in 1994 didn't follow through in the summer. Ditto Derry in 1995 and '96.
Since the football championship became so competitive, winning the League in May or late April has become a risk that precedent suggests isn't worth taking.