On Gaelic Games:It could be seen as a watershed moment, a portal between one world and the next. Early June over 12 years ago and evening was falling on a sunny afternoon in the Gaelic Grounds in Limerick.

On the Ennis Road that day in 1995, June 4th, what happened proved to be the dawn of a new era. Clare eliminated Cork in a Munster hurling semi-final. In those pre-qualifier days that meant the summer was over for the losers - a good three months before the All-Ireland final and after just one serious match (they had beaten Kerry in the first round).

Around that time something else was happening. RTÉ were about to broadcast in its entirety the match that had just taken place. In what was the first season of extended coverage, the GAA had agreed a schedule of fixtures that could be broadcast, albeit on a wary, "delayed" basis.

Of further significance to the GAA's relations with media was the closure a couple of weeks previously of the Irish Press Group, where modern coverage of Gaelic games had its origins. Other aspects of the new world included the Guinness sponsorship of the championship, complete with television and billboard advertising.

That afternoon is, however, probably best remembered as the beginning of the Clare hurling legend. It was Ger Loughnane's first championship match as manager and it looked to be ending in failure until one of the great narratives of the epic cycle took place. Seán McMahon, stuck in the corner with a broken collar bone, managed to hustle a line ball out of Timmy Kelleher. Fergie Tuohy, now a Clare selector, cut the ball into the square and replacement Ollie Baker rose to bat home what turned out to be the winning goal.

Some time later the outgoing Cork manager, Johnny Clifford, could be seen deep in conversation with Jimmy Barry-Murphy, then in charge of the county's minors, who were en route to that year's All-Ireland and who would ultimately be his successor, so the tableau represented - though we didn't know at the time - the passing of the flame.

Johnny Clifford passed away last week at the age of 73. His longevity as a manager meant he was the last whose intercounty career spanned the gap between hurling's first designated golden age of the 1950s and its second, a decade ago.

He represented a time long gone. Loughnane's first step on the road to Clare's 1995 All-Ireland couldn't have come against someone more symbolic of Cork tradition.

A scion of Glen Rovers, he was an outstanding under-age talent and captained Cork to the minor All-Ireland in 1951. Two years later, he was in the senior panel for the final against Galway and already drawing illustrious comparisons with a famous club-mate.

Previewing the 1953 final, PD Mehigan, writing in this paper as Pat O, had this to say: "Quite possibly Johnny Clifford the 18-year-old schoolboy star may be brought into one of Cork's corners before the game is over. He is too young to stand a full hour's hurling, but in Cork he is alluded to as 'a second Christy Ring' and has a huge scoring record in minor ranks."

A year later he started as right corner forward against Wexford, and with Cork trailing in the last 10 minutes he was switched to the left from where he scored the goal that broke Wexford in front of what remains the record attendance at an All-Ireland hurling final, 84,856.

The Glen looked to have launched another legendary career.

Sadly, what providence gave Johnny in terms of talent and hurling it made him pay for in terms of misfortune. An eye injury derailed his career and, by the time he battled back, Cork were in the midst of the worst title famine in the county's history.

Nonetheless, he was a selector for the county in every decade between his playing career and when he finished in 1995.

Meeting him, you had to be impressed by his love for the game and how uncomplainingly he served Cork.

Brought in to take charge of the team after they had been trimmed by Kilkenny in the 1982 final, he coaxed a defiant, stand-up display from them a year later, and, even if Kilkenny won again, they had a better idea of what it normally takes to beat Cork in All-Irelands.

Fate intervened unkindly once again. In the September of 1983 he found himself not alone losing an All-Ireland, but also his livelihood as the Dunlop factory closed its gates.

His health suffered, and Cork promptly dumped him as coach. Later, he would magnanimously acknowledge that coronary illness would probably have prevented him from continuing and his appetite for hurling was unaffected.

In 1986, he was back and took Cork to the All-Ireland final, where they surprised a well-fancied Galway, who were fresh from a thumping semi-final win over Kilkenny in which they had introduced a tactical innovation of a third centrefielder.

Years later, he told me that Cork had experimented with the notion in training, but had given up and decided to play the game their conventional way, which duly led to an emphatic victory.

His final stint with the county came at an undistinguished time for Cork, but he was ready and willing when called and nearly stopped the Clare renaissance in its infancy. He was one of those old school enthusiasts with no interest in the politics of office or even whether he would be a selector when coaching a team.

If he was needed he was there.

When news came of his passing last Friday, I realised, although we had spoken a number of times over the years, that I hadn't seen him since that evening in Limerick with the summer sun setting gently on the day and on a selfless hurling career.