Afterwards, they turned their back on the burning amber which lit the Canal End and hurried through the concrete underworld of the New Cusack stand, eyes firmly downcast.

As the Offaly players absorbed the final twist of a crazy summer, the Kilkenny lads took a few minutes to shut the world out from their misery. Finally, the doors opened and they offered what thoughts they could muster. "It hasn't sunk in yet," Kevin Fennelly shrugged, taking solace in a chocolate bar. "To lose an All-Ireland final, is, I suppose, the lowest point of your career. But it's over and done with. Offaly deserved to win it and we have no complaints." His words float through the dressing-room, across the glazed expressions of Canice Brennan and Peter Barry, who sit alone and in stillness. At half-time, they might have expected to hear a different speech from their manager. "After the break, we were going out with the wind as we thought - it may have changed a bit - we were two points ahead and we had every chance but it wasn't to be.

"They had the few games extra and that may have been the difference but overall, no complaints," adds Fennelly. He has seen these days before, wasn't surprised by Offaly's almost jubilant surge towards the finish, nor to see Brian Whelahan torturing the heart of his defence.

"Brian Whelahan is the hurler of the year, he wasn't having a great game at halfback today or against Clare and he went up forward and changed the game and full marks to Brian for that."

The questions spill forward. His team contributed to another dazzling afternoon for the annals - some pride to be drawn from that maybe?

A shadow of a smile runs across him. "Not a consolation in the world. I wish it had been a feckin' bore of a game and we had won." Charlie Carter is bent over towards the door, taping his wands for the last time this season.

"He has spent the last three months silencing the doubters, lighting up headlines and yet it all comes to this. "At half time, we just said we'd keep the foot down until the end," he mutters. "I dunno, Errity's goal certainly didn't do us any good but the Offaly midfield just sat back and mopped up a lot of ball in the second half.

"It was just a different ballgame from the Leinster Final. The three games they had against Clare helped them and the fact that they were trying to prove to Babs that they were better than what he was trying to make them out to be." And with that, he vanishes even as Willie O'Connor zips up his bag and Tom Hickey sits mutely, welcoming no conversation and bearing a poignantly sad expression. Back to earth in Dunamaggin. And what of DJ? So often, on days like this, he has regaled us with charming dismissals of his genius, making tape recorders purr in pure appreciation. Now he is equally disarming, sitting there in shorts and reliving that penalty. Talks about his flaws in that same old way.

"I was going for goal, definitely. I hit it well, hit it too high and . . . it could have been the difference but we were beaten by six points, so you know . . . it might have been a bigger nightmare if we got beaten by three. It might have changed everything."

And he smiles, as though in apology, as though his miss was somehow a betrayal. He has broken hearts before. So how does it feel DJ? "It's devastating really. It will be today and tomorrow and the next day but you just have to get over it. It's hard to know what happened. But the best team won on the day." Michael Bond enters the room. (Bet the Offaly lads could pick him out of an identity parade now.) "Nothing I can say can ease your pain but thank you for that wonderful game. You will be back," he said quietly.

So will you be back, DJ?

"If I'm required, if I'm needed, I'll be back," says the finest hurler of his generation.