When Andy Farrell was asked about the performance of his Twin Flankers of the Apocalypse – Tadhg Beirne and Tom Curry – the British and Irish Lions coach practically lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Immense,” he smiled in the wake of their outrageous efforts in the 27-19 win over the Wallabies. “Absolutely immense. Big game players who were probably challenged by a good few.”

Sione Tuipulotu, the first Scot to score a Lions Test try since Alan Tait in 1997, was of the same mind. “In big games they perform when it counts,” said the centre.

“Tom was amazing, he’s a joy to play with. I always look at him and he always looks so sore when he’s running around, he always looks in pain but he just keeps going. Testament to him. The same with Tadhg.

“They’re two warriors of the game and they were a big reason why we won. Those two are like ball magnets. Wherever the ball is, they’re in and around.”

There’s no doubt about their seismic contribution in Brisbane. Beirne made 23 tackles, won three turnovers – one inside the opening minute – and was world class. Curry was just like a man possessed. Driven, aggressive, almost dangerous in his intensity, in the best possible sense.

We went to interview Curry after the match and it was quite something. He didn’t say much after his colossal night, but in a sense he’d said enough already. Not words, but actions. Thunderous, relentless and unyielding.

When he entered the mixed zone after what will go down as one of his finest 58 minutes of his career – the Lions were leading 24-5 when he went off – Curry was about as effusive as a rock.

Clearly, there’s a beef there. Somebody has been in his ear, maybe filling his head with stuff to anger and inspire him. ‘They’ve written you off Tom.’ ‘They don’t think you deserve your place.’ ‘What message are you gonna send them on Saturday?’

Who was doing the writing off? It actually doesn’t matter. His brother Ben – currently touring with England – lambasted the cyber warriors, external for giving him stick that was “gobsmacking” and “incredibly disappointing”.

Maybe Tom, himself, thought it was the journalists who’d been on his case. Certainly, there’s been stuff said and written about him not quite being at his brilliant and belligerent best, but that’s fair comment. He hasn’t been. We’re talking a very, very high bar here.

And, yes, there’s been praise for Jac Morgan, who’s had a good tour. Some observers would have had Morgan ahead of Curry. Many others would have said Curry’s best stuff is other-worldly and he had to start.

Whatever was dripped into his ear, it worked. Real or invented – it doesn’t matter. Curry was extraordinarily good on the pitch and spectacularly taciturn in the aftermath. Almost heroically stoic.

‘How do you feel after that, Tom?’

“Yeah, good.”

‘Happy with your performance?’

“I was happy.”

‘Big hit [on James Slipper] at the start…

“Yeah.”

‘Atmosphere was amazing, eh?’

“Yep.”

‘Anything else on that, Tom?’

“It was good.”

‘How close do you think that was to a world-class performance?’

“I don’t know what world class is. It’s such a cliched thing, isn’t it? I don’t really care what label you put on it – you just have to win.”

‘How much more do you think you’ve got in you for next week?’

“Loads.”

‘In what areas?’

“Every area.”

‘That was your type of game, wasn’t it?’

“They’re all my types of game.”

‘I don’t know if you picked up on any criticism that maybe you weren’t in peak form coming into this. Did you pick up on any of that?

“No, nothing.”

On it went, an occasional answer longer than a word or two, but not many, all delivered with a smile that hinted at something he wanted to say but wasn’t going to. Because, again, he’d said everything he needed to say in his time on the field.