In early March, Tom Dempsey spent the smoky Sunday afternoons varnishing his reputation. At New Ross, he gunned down Waterford without even a hint of malice in his eyes.

He pocketed 1-8 before ambling off the field, cheeks flush and that distinct slouching gait setting him apart. The following week against Tipperary, Paul Codd was back to take the frees and Dempsey happily went back foraging for loose ball, making a quieter contribution.

"Ah, Paul is a much better freetaker than I ever was. It's not a duty I was ever particularly fond of and, to tell the truth, I was glad when Paul came back," he recalled earlier this week.

But he was singing that day in Wexford, stealthily working his craft with an economy which almost made him anonymous. He moved through the fair like a burglar, easy and safe and taking care of business.

Former Wexford manager Liam Griffin said: "You think of Tom and you're reminded of that old Beckenbauer quote: you know, how do you get from A to B so fast and he replies, `because I never start from A'. That's how it is with Tom. He possesses this wonderful economy of effort which few hurlers have.

"And even though he isn't built like a D J Carey or Joe Deane, he is of that style. An absolutely beautiful striker of a ball and he can hit it on the turn."

Tomorrow, Dempsey will hit the turf in Croke Park for his 13th summer of sweat and bruises and the short-lived moments of total elation. He laughs when he acknowledges that his phone has been buzzing a lot this weather, as if there is a sense among the paper folk that this may be the last chance to wring a few words out of him. And he admits that the passing seasons make it all no easier.

"It's changed, the fitness levels and supplementary demands make it a lot more difficult to sustain, particularly with family. I mean, I'm not making any statement, but the way I feel is that at this stage in my career I have to tog out believing that each game I play might be my last. There are fine young hurlers in Wexford coming up, they deserve their chance, so it's not a question of going so much as there being no guarantees."

But the thought of Dempsey walking away before his talent is spent is something that saddens Griffin.

"Sometimes people, media especially, put tags on a player. Words like `veteran' or `ageless'. It gets both the player and the public thinking and, next thing, there is a perception that this player might be past it. People don't realise that a player in his mid-30s can be as fit as a young fella of 20 because they know what is required in terms of moderation and effort. Tom has that and then he also has this pure ability which is invaluable to any team."

Dempsey's precise worth to Wexford hurling has not been the subject of many theses. Although never one for ranting speeches before games, he has long been recognised as one of the most important back-room cogs, prankish in a quiet way and a good man to smooth the little clashes which erupt in every dressing-room from time to time.

He has remained steadfastly loyal and proud of his club, Buffer's Alley, where they have both touched the heights and wintered through black seasons over his time.

On inter-county fields, his role has been more difficult to evaluate. If Martin Storey was the thoroughbred, then Dempsey was a more hazy, mercurial version of the same. And sometimes, in the many frustrating days, the fans vented their angst on him.

"I think Tom's natural modesty prevented him from understanding why they did that. There were times when he was singled out because people could see the brilliance he had, something he is nearly unaware of with me. But he is a tremendously important player, one who steps up on big occasions and does the small things that other players just aren't capable of," comments Griffin.

"You know, my one regret about Tom Dempsey is that I was never sure he knew just how highly I regard him as a hurler. As a manager, I was probably sometimes austere towards him at times, trying to get through that innate modesty of his. I sometimes think he never understood why I was like that and I would wish that in time, he would."

Although there have been many entrancing, epic hurling afternoons since Wexford beguiled us in 1996, it nonetheless remains a landmark year in a revolutionary decade. For Wexford, it stays as a steadily optimistic reference point, way more preferable to all those heavy years of haunting failure. So does tomorrow against Offaly represent one final bash for the boys from that summer?

"Not at all, there's no attitude like that. This is a team in a transitional phase but we still feel we have the depth and ability to compete this year. Tomorrow, we are playing the All-Ireland champions and a county which has always produced pure hurlers. But we have been waiting for this day since that day last summer when that late goal put us out," says Dempsey.

Wexford took to the National League preamble fitfully, all but advertising the fact that they were essentially twiddling thumbs until the championship. But their first day out was far from serene.

"Time just ran out on Dublin," shrugs Dempsey candidly. "I remember the last few minutes thinking `Jesus, this is slipping from us'. They were just running at us. I think one of our fundamental problems was on show that day, not putting our chances away. It's fairly simple, really. If we hurl like that against Offaly, we'll be blown out of the water."

But does he really believe that will happen? "I think we can do well if we hurl to our strengths. It's the only way to beat Offaly. But this is a massive game for both counties. If we get over it, it could be a good summer," he says.

And Tom Dempsey has seen enough to know the signs.