LockerRoom: Henry Shefflin, not looking at all like a man who had just scored 2-11 in championship, shook his head and said he expected there'd be a lot of negativity about Leinster hurling this morning. Sorry, Henry.

The Leinster championship got into full swing yesterday. Laois, who have beaten Wexford once since 1941, duly added another entry to that forlorn list.

Offaly, once the breakout kings, conceded three goals early and despite playing passably well at times never recovered sufficiently to pass themselves off as even being in the same class as Kilkenny.

They finished 31 points adrift, a margin which isn't decent or healthy.

Some 23,346 people paid in for the double-header. Most had gone by the end.

It was too awful to watch Offaly being tortured. The memory of Laois folding like deckchairs just made it all the more poignant.

And standing outside of what's not an especially good party are Dublin. The lack of movement anywhere in Leinster is depressing but for Dublin there are fewer excuses than anywhere else. The size of the playing population should mean at least respectability. Instead the capital could only look at Offaly and Laois yesterday and wonder how far behind either they are.

It's just over two years since Lar Foley died and a few days more than that since Lar was the featured attraction at a gathering in the Gresham Hotel to launch something called the Friends of Dublin Hurling.

Almost all of what was good about Dublin hurling was to be found inside Lar and he was in fine fettle that day, baiting the county chairman, John Bailey.

"D'ya know what?" said Lar to the startled blazer. "If you were a duck I wouldn't shoot ya."

"Why's that?" asked Bailey, sensing that the answer wasn't going to carry much charity.

"Because I wouldn't want my dog picking you up," said Lar and turned to other business.

The tragedy of Lar's passing is mitigated and softened only by the thought that at least he hasn't been around for the last few weeks to see what has become of Dublin hurling under the lame-duck chairmanship of Bailey.

There was an odd little scene last Sunday in Croker as the footballing Dubs celebrated their win over Meath. The lads were moving towards The Hill there to make communion with the faithful and John Bailey appeared on the field under the Hogan Stand.

For one moment it seemed as if he was himself about to run in triumph towards Hill 16. His people! What a moment it would have been, the capper on a week of disaster and denial. Instead the footballing Dubs took the garlands on their own and sucked up the good vibes off the 65,000 or so who had attended. A couple of nights later the Dublin hurlers trained on their own in St Anne's Park. How do you tell a 16-year-old with two separate GAA worlds at his feet that hurling is where it is at.

The idea of the Friends of Dublin Hurling passed away with Lar, which was a pity. Dublin hurling needs friends and money right now more than it has in the 44 years since the county last appeared in an All-Ireland. And the game in the city needs to be shaped by the hands of passionate people who know the game.

It's not fashionable to say such things but Dublin needs a separate and strong hurling board that will set fixtures and appoint management and implement a long-term plan for the game (as opposed, that is, to producing and stockpiling blueprints).

Such a federal arrangement would be enhanced by the creation of a hurling county within the county, with 10, 12 or 14 clubs willing to give parity or priority to hurling, having first choice of the games development officers available and guidance in coaching and the training of coaches.

There's no miracle formula in all of this but it means self-reliance and an end to the culture of Dublin hurling sitting around feeling sorry for itself.

It's 44 years since that narrow All-Ireland loss to Tipperary. Did the county suffer some tragic genetic mutation which meant it produced no hurlers worth a candle? Has the game vanished from the parks and the clubs? Does nobody care?

No to all these but there is an administrative stasis which has meant the game has gone nowhere. And there's a defeatist attitude which involves the throwing up of the arms, the shaking of the head and the loud wondering about where it's all going to end.

In fact hurling thrives in Dublin in its own quiet way. Sure, it gets second lick of the lolly when it comes to competition with Gaelic football, and hurling people can scarcely take a step forward so littered is the path with blueprints and special plans. There's that stifling smog of self-pity about, and the loss of players like Shane Ryan and Conal Keaney is often lamented as being a sign the world is about to end.

In fact the county senior footballers only have 30 players on their panel. If that doesn't leave enough viable hurlers in the rest of the county then we might as well go and chew our way one by one through the contents of the blueprint mountain.

It is a remarkable thing that John Bailey is still in office. Either he threatened an entire county panel with banishment from blue or that entire county panel got together and pretended he threatened them. Neither version of events inspires much confidence in an administrator who has famously described himself as "a hurling man".

The dispute over what was said damages John Bailey. Nor is he rescued by the attempt to limit and shape Tommy Naughton's team selections. Nor does the subsequent climbdown and issuing of carte blanche to Tommy cast a warm glow on any of Bailey's contributions.

The hope is that, well, just that hope never goes away. Dublin have Clare, Waterford and Offaly in the qualifying group and rock bottom might be just three games away. If the worst comes, well then it comes.

A year in Division Two and the supposed humiliation of a season in the Christy Ring netherworld might concentrate minds. There'll be a new face peering out from above the county chairman blazer and tie this winter. Some fresh ideas and some fresh energy would be welcome. Perhaps too there'll be a new county manager. A run of wins against weaker teams could be better in the long term than another season of struggle and strife among the elite.

The Leinster hurling championship is a sickly thing at the moment. We cling desperately to the memory of how Wexford ambushed Kilkenny last year, hoping against hope they might make a match of it this summer. We're not convinced though. Till Offaly and Laois and Dublin are well again hurling will have its troubles.