There was something deliciously appropriate about a Lincoln Park performance this ferocious being merely the undercard. By the time the final whistle brought proceedings to a premature close — both sides apparently needed to be somewhere — Park had already said everything they needed to say, and they had said it loudly. Their teammate Dave Lepp was preparing to walk into a cage that evening and earn a unanimous judges' decision with his fists. His colleagues, it seems, were inspired by the spirit of the thing.

Because this was Lincoln Park with their knuckles up. Aggressive, purposeful, relentless through the phases — and yet, crucially, not brainless. The combination of raw carrying power and genuine structural intelligence was rarer than it sounds, and for long stretches of this contest it was quite irresistible.

The Silverbacks deserve a footnote of credit for their nerve. They crossed early in each half, which takes a certain bloody-mindedness, and they were not short of it. But they were swimming against a tide that grew stronger with every passing minute.

Between those moments of Silverbacks defiance, the scoring belonged entirely to one side. Quinn, operating with the unhurried authority of a man who has done this before, helped himself to two tries from the left wing — both finished with a composure that belied the pressure around him. Hudson spotted the opportunity where others might have clung to the ball and launched the tap-and-go that carved the defence open. And then there was Melody — a man who has scored easier tries only in his sleep — who somehow found himself placing the ball down from a distance measurable in inches rather than yards, and had the good sense not to overthink it.

The forwards carried with menace. The backs ran on to the ball at genuine pace. Would-be tacklers found themselves arriving a fraction too late and leaving a fraction too shaken. The gain line, that great arbiter of rugby contests, was consistently breached and consistently exploited.

Individual excellence threaded through the collective effort like a bright seam. Panzica, who has had company in the lineout struggles of recent weeks, threw with accuracy and conviction, and the set-piece was the better for it. Cooley ran as if he had a personal grievance to settle with every defensive line, scoring himself and unlocking teammates with equal enthusiasm. And Laux and Bricteux? They committed grand larceny at the breakdown with such brazen regularity that one wonders if the Silverbacks have lodged a formal complaint with local law enforcement.

It was a pity the game ended when it did. Not because the result was in doubt — it emphatically was not — but because this was a Lincoln Park performance worth watching to its natural conclusion. There were passages here that deserved a full audience and a full eighty minutes.

Lepp won his fight that night. Unanimously. His teammates had already made the point that victory, when Lincoln Park are operating at this level, can be just as emphatic.

If they carry this with them, the weeks ahead look considerably brighter.