Sometimes this is a necessary medicine, particularly when the current manager can be prone to elaborate flourishes of self-aggrandisement on behalf of what remains a relatively ordinary international side.

Mercifully, Stephen Kenny wisely decided this was not one of those occasions which demanded an ill-judged diversion into either hyperbole or rambling dissemblance.

Perhaps he was mindful that previous attempts at delivering haughty grandeur on behalf of his eager charges have consistently been succeeded by a varying assembly of pratfalls and pitfalls.

Aside from the non sequitur, “We’re potentially showing we’re a very good team now”, Kenny advanced a composed response in defeat, never once forgetting that it was anything other than that.

Instead, it was left to Martin O’Neill and Brian Kerr to deliver sermons of mounting incomprehension.

Were they simply adding a pointed percussive edge to smash through the complacent mood music of a country so desperate to smother a likeable bunch of men with warm embrace?

These two wizened men, forged in the fire pits of the harshest realities of the international game, who continue to appear ever so mildly baffled as yet another Irish defeat is shaped into something of which their raw football antenna cannot possibly conceive.

Both feeling that they didn’t get half as much credit as they deserved when they were in charge; and more, that they probably got twice as much as criticism too.

O’Neill, armed with the more impressive justification, and also a victory once in a fixture such as this one in 2015, plucked a curious example from his reign to make his point.

He argued that the implosion against Denmark here in 2017, when Ireland conspired to lose 5-1 despite taking a 1-0 lead, offered a template for how Kenny might have altered the course of events against France.

It was a characteristically eccentric observation from someone who constantly cleaved to staunch conservatism and limited tactics, relying instead on elements that owed much more to motivational ad lib than advanced preparation.

Brian Kerr had helmed the first of the three recent French sides to claim 1-0 wins here, in just the one full campaign afforded him during which, infamously, Ireland trailed for just 20 minutes and were undone by the artistry of Thierry Henry, rather than his perfidy.

That campaign featured the last Irish starting side composed entirely of Premier League regulars, a reminder of the contemporary decline of the standard available to his successors.

At times, Kerr’s frustrations that subsequent managers didn’t invest as much time and effort as he did into a job that he was paid far less to so have simmered close to the boil.

Kenny is a kindred spirit – his preparations for last night’s game were quite clearly not only elaborately drawn but also expertly translated – and it was difficult not to see the parallels between this reverse and that inflicted here in 2005.

One might suspect that Kerr would empathise with the man he once mentored, as he had once been tutored by Liam Tuohy, Irish football’s Godfather.

Instead, the current manager remains perplexed at the brickbats that continue to rain down, hurtful missiles on a night hinting at so much promise.

Kerr is a witness to the fitful attempts of a Kenny squad to impose their will against Latvia, and conscious that Ireland have yet to consistently convince in the possession-based game that will be required in Athens.

His point is perhaps valid; the tenor of the delivery jars with many but to be surprised at that, or O’Neill’s self-delusion, means you haven’t been paying attention.

No more than Kenny’s own story, Ireland’s remains largely faithful to a well-worn narrative.

Pleading pretensions of boundless imagination and freedom of expression when, really, the thing is rather more prosaic than all that, especially at international level, when events are so capricious.

Didier Deschamps alluded to as much with his modest assessment of a night when his stellar talents were smothered in a green straitjacket.

“We did what we had to do to win,” said Deschamps of his collection of artists who, though they brought their easels, had neglected their pastels.

And that is the heart of the matter. Kenny’s need to get a result the next day might have been aided by getting one here.

And the lingering suspicion remains that his side are better prepared for a game like this one, that they ultimately lost, then the task facing them in Athens, when they will surely be required to win.

Last night, they were superbly stifling, sacrificing their counter-attack, rendering Evan Ferguson redundant.

Chiedozie Ogbene won the man of the match for playing two roles, as an attacking right-sided midfielder and a defensive minded right wing-back; a performance that at once reflected the cost benefit analysis of a rigid approach.

France pressed higher than most sides and, when Ireland passed over rather than through them, Ferguson’s positive early run and cross from the left might have been meant for Ogbene; except he was just emerging from a duel in the right-back position, helping to deny Kylian Mbappe the space he usually thrives upon.

Something else entirely will be required in Athens and that is where the volume of the suspicious voices will congregate once more.

It will be a different team, with a creative influence akin to Will Smallbone tasked to play behind a more obvious strike partnership, presuming all remain fit and in form.

Remember twelve months ago Troy Parrott and Michael Obafemi represented the dawn of a new era?

Yesterday, the former could not even make the squad while the latter was the final throw of despairing dice.

Kenny’s creative instincts will now be challenged like never before; defensive soundness is established, albeit too regularly undone by self-inflicted harm.

This time it was Josh Cullen who Kenny had to defend from the poison of the familiar Premier League obsessed mob who only seem to care about Irish football on nights like these.

Cullen remains one of the key components in this side; he was guilty of essaying an attempt at something the team had struggled to do all evening, launch a coherent counter-attack.

Collecting possession which itself had been – again – tossed away by their opponents, he spied the run of Matt Doherty on the left, beyond Jason Knight, who was standing, half-turned away, a few yards to Cullen’s left.

Doherty had evaded Benjamin Pavard and was ready to be joined by Knight in a rare two-man sortie by the home side; except it never happened.

Instead, Pavard himself eyed an opportunity, Cullen missed his, and with Knight out of shape, and Doherty out of position, Ireland succumbed yet again to a long-range scud missile.

Those who might have demanded Cullen deliver the ball into the Dodder will smile knowingly at their impressive sangfroid.

Ireland have never had pretensions to be like Barcelona; becoming like Burnley would suffice. Athens would be an apt location to see if Kenny’s philosophy has acquired some balance.

His success there will determine whether his critics can find some too.