Time has circled both teams. Outside the Galway dressing-room, the folk heroes are gathering. Bodies part as Joe Cooney ambles up. Joe McDonagh is pressing hands. Phelim Murphy bounces up the steps that lead from the Cusack tunnel. It is safe to say he looked pleased. On the other side of the door, Noel Lane is offering a calm perspective on the county's return to September hurling, the first time since 1993.

"Kilkenny were tremendous champions and it was a huge challenge. No-one gave us a chance and we were a bit insulted by that because last year we hurled with them for 40 minutes and maybe fate had it in for us then. But this year we went from strength to strength."

Back in the great days, when Lane was a languid forward, nothing ever seemed a surprise to him. He has brought the same inscrutability to the management post.

"Having an extra man can sometimes bring confusion to the team that has it. We brought on Brian Higgins and he had an absolute stormer. The forwards had to work that bit harder and they dug out the scores. It was a joy to watch them. And we missed a lot too. Eugene Cloonan today probably had one of his worst days in a long time - missed frees, missed them from play and everything."

It says something of Cloonan's sheer gift that he can carve 2-9 on a scoreboard and still catch a bit of sharp tongue from his boss. The Athenry prodigy embodied the mystery of Galway over the past half-decade. We have watched him grow up through summers of disappointment, one of the true delights of modern hurling on show for one hour every Sunday. Now, shaven headed and broader of frame, he seems to have arrived.

"Left the helmet at home this time - forgot it," he grins afterwards. He grimaces at the mention of his scores. For all the on-field dare-devilry, Cloonan is as mild as they come on the street.

"Ah, the first one I was a bit short with the free and I don't know, the sun or something caught James McGarry. The second one I decided to get a boot to it. You have to take chances like that when they come your way. We got a few lucky breaks and you need those."

They are probably due it. In the years gone, Galway seemed to line out with players young enough to take-part in the kiddie's games at half-time. The youth was there this time also but but they are not so raw. "If you're good enough, you're old enough," shrugs Lane.

The hard years have stood to them. David Tierney has become the old man of centrefield. "Yeah, I've heard that said alright. I'm only 21! I've only started three games so I don't know - I suppose in comparison to Richie Murray I'm old."

What everyone wants to know is, why this year? Galway's arrival had been so slow coming that many people had left the platform. "Well, we heard it said during the week that people at home would be happy if we just showed passion," says Alan Kerins.

"I think last year we crumbled under pressure. That was never going to happen this time. We were never going to give up."

Down the corridor from the merry Galway scene, John Power holds on awhile in the Kilkenny dressing-room. The old soldier bows a head and talks low, like a man at confession. "The bubble was going to burst sometime and today it happened. You just don't know - it is hard to keep it going and today it caught up with us. Fair play to Galway, they've been knocking on the door a while and I hope they go and do well. They just out-hurled us. We got beaten by a better team."

Brian Cody leaves last. "I feel the same about this team as I did when we won the All-Ireland last year. An outstanding team, outstanding people. We will deal with defeat as we dealt with victory.

"No matter how you go and dissect it, it's a question of things happening on the day. How often do you see it happening that when a team that has had a run for a few years gets beaten, it tends not to be on a last minute but more gradually. You can see the writing on the wall for the last half hour of the game."

With that, Kilkenny, the team that stalked the summer, was gone.