Next Sunday, Croke Park will host something of a clash in football ideologies. It's difficult not to wince at the thought of the silver footed Armagh goal poachers trying to weave their brand of irresistible elegance in the face of the Meath defence.

Think motorway, deer and juggernaut. It can only lead to road-kill.

For iron-fisted destructiveness is, after all, supposed to be the genesis of what Meath defenders are about. They are so often categorised as archetypal defenders; joyless stoppers who do precisely that, remorselessly and without exception, because it is their job.

Never mind that Darren Fay is one of the purest footballers across the country nor that Paddy Reynolds and Hank Traynor are often at the heart or the team's sweeping pincer movements. Forget the fact that they are scarcely burdened with yellow card collections or that they engineer their attacks from the back. No, to hell with the arguments. It's easier to sum the Meath defence up in terms of . . . SPLAT!

"Ah, it's exaggerated all right," sighs Mark O'Reilly, one of the six currently installed in this crack unit of tough guys.

"I think there is loads of football in Meath and that we have shown that but if people want to say things about you, there is not much you can do do stop it. I don't know what it is, maybe it's begrudgery or whatever. But maybe it's the fact that Meath are just so resilient and never want to give up or whatever."

The Summerhill lad burst onto the inter-county scene in 1996, one of the Boylan babes who first stunned Leinster and then the country that summer, delivering an All-Ireland championship based on precocious talent. O'Reilly remembers that time with a hazy drawl which belies his tight, economical on-field manner.

"Ah that year, it kind of passed us by. We were young or whatever. It's only looking back that you start to realise what you achieved. But when you play with Meath, you expect to win things and that was kind of inbuilt in us even then."

And there is a truth in that, because when you watch Meath play, you expect them to win things. Sean Boylan's greatest gift lies in his ability to repair and replace the cracks before the rest of us even notice them appearing. Only half the Meath side who won in 1996 will appear against Armagh on Sunday but they have that same foreboding look about them.

"There's been changes all right but we still play the same type of football. I mean, even the personnel who remain, many of them are now in different positions. We've lost lads through injury and retirements and the rest but the subs have come through and we still have a strong side," offers O'Reilly.

They are the prototype of the modern team; athletic, competitive, with a natural playmaker (Trevor Giles), a gargantuan midfielder (John McDermott), forwards that can score and a withering defence.

O'Reilly's unit has been breaking hearts all summer and now come Armagh.

"Yeah, there are something else, they put on a super show their last game out and we'll just have to play our own game and hopefully things will go alright."

Chances are that O'Reilly will cover either Oisin McConville or Diarmuid Marsden, who form Armagh's prized attacking axis. The defender is unmoved by the prospect.

"I'll just wait and see whoever comes into me and I'll mark him. Playing these games you always hear speculation that you'll be marking such and such and then it never happens through switches or what have you. So you learn to expect surprises. Doesn't matter who it is at this level, they'll be tough," he says.

Sometimes, Meath dismantle attacks with an understanding which is uncanny; they seem to read one anothers game so flawlessly that it's tempting to attribute a complexity to their style which, according to O'Reilly, doesn't really exist. His philosophy is simple.

"You take responsibility for your man, that's it. I'm playing alongside Darren Fay, a super full back and while he moves around a bit, I try and stay out of his way," he says self-deprecatingly.

It is put to him that his game is based on denial; that where other defenders stand off and close down, he favours going straight for the ball.

"Ah yeah," he grins, "well, I suppose, if you have the ball, well, then there isn't much the other fella can do with it."

Says the spider to the fly.