Mostly Hurling:The only time the Limerick hurling team were ahead last Sunday was when they were welcomed onto the field. Richie Bennis's introduction was greeted with similar enthusiasm. Brian Cody's welcome, by comparison, was tame. Those, however, were the only areas in which the Shannonsiders led.

Their pre-match warm-up was slow and lethargic in comparison to the Cats' slick, fast-moving, energetic drills.

But in terms of preparation and hope the teams and managers were equal at this time.

As the teams get ready for the parade the managers know that their influence from this point until the half-time whistle sounds is fairly insignificant, apart from making some match-winning change (that wouldn't be too insignificant, would it?).

It's a wonderful feeling to stand there knowing you could be the manager of the All-Ireland champions in less than two hours' time. You now it's now in the lap of the players and maybe a god or two as well.

Last Sunday, after a minute or two, we knew Limerick were nervous. Their striking wasn't true. Their tackling wasn't as intense as we expected. Kilkenny on the other hand won all the early exchanges. Tommy Walsh caught the first puck-out that landed in his area. So did JJ Delaney. Eoin Larkin was dominating, as were Noel Hickey, Eddie Brennan and Henry Shefflin.

Ten minutes gone. Kilkenny are nine points up. Richie realises they're in trouble all over the field but he knows they've been in this position before so he's not without hope. But, in his subconscious, he also knows it's Kilkenny they're playing.

Brian is happy but not that happy. He talks to Willie O'Dwyer. His facial expressions indicate he's angry. A few minutes later Willie is called ashore. There's no room for sentiment in Cody's world.

Half-time comes. Richie and the selectors go to the managers' room. Everybody in there is still living in the now. They are still totally engaged with what they have to do. There is still hope.

Suggestions are thrown around. A consensus of some sort is reached. Time is ticking. The players gather in the warm-up area. The last throw of the dice.

"Did we train all year for this? . . . Are ye going to come off the field wondering what might have been? . . . We've been in this situation before . . . nothing to lose . . . "

Brian and his people are intense.

"We're in a dangerous position . . . they haven't really played yet . . . Noel is gone and now Henry looks like he's finished . . . we have to drive them on . . ."

The physio is in with the bad news. Henry is out. The change is made. The players are ready. Brian speaks and everybody listens. This is for the lads.

The second half creeps to the inevitable conclusion. The signal for the stewards to take up their places is seriously off-putting if your team are chasing the game, and Limerick were always chasing the game.

The board goes up: two minutes of added time. Richie and Gary (Kirby) now know for definite the dream is over. Brian is getting ready to feel that feeling he's felt so often before both as a player and manager. The final whistle blows.

The hordes of cameras descend on Brian. Richie looks for hands to shake. The Cats head to the stand. Brian takes up his position in the glare of the cameras. Richie and his people wait and wish the presentation was over. They want to be in the dressingroom.

It's now a half an hour after that final whistle. The press mass wait outside the Kilkenny door. The Rose of Mooncoin is ringing out in the warm-up area.

A minority of the press wait near the Limerick door. Brian appears and heads for the Limerick dressing area.

"I'll talk to ye later lads," he calls to the press. First things first.

Richie also speaks from the heart in the Kilkenny dressingroom.

In the tunnel the press scramble to hear Brian. A sea of microphones and dictaphones stretch out before him. But this won't do Seán Bán (Breathnach); he'll need a few words as Ghaeilge.

Brian Carthy appears at the Cats' door. He wants the other Brian for his post-match championship radio programme.

Marty Morrissey arrives. He wants to run over the plans for the banquet.

Brian is almost all talked out as Carthy winds up his excellent show from high up in the Croke Park gods. Most of the players are now in the players' lounge. There's some finger food and plenty drink.

Kilkenny are under pressure, for the first time today. They need to go as soon as possible as the RTÉ schedule dictates the next few hours.

A few hours ago the teams were equals; now only one team is centre stage.

At last, the Cats' buses pull out. The rush is on. The Garda outriders, sirens blaring and lights flashing, signal the journey of the champions. Rival fans applaud the heroes. The hotel is awash with black and amber. The rooms are reallocated. Wives, girlfriends or partners replace the roommate of the previous night.

The girls have to apply the colour. The men have to don the official garb. It's after eight when they arrive. It's a race against time.

The pre-buffet reception is as soon as possible. Everybody has to be sitting by nineish. Brian and Henry will be on first.

There's no rush on Limerick. They're not centre stage any more. No cameras. Not much more media interest now that the post-match interviews are over. A great night all the same even though there's no silverware.

This is a special night for any winning hurler or manager. There might be only one, if you're lucky. Brian has experienced it before; Richie wishes it were he. What a feeling it must be, he thinks. Liam MacCarthy is in every photograph tonight. Brian and Henry are in a fair few too.

If Brian is answering his phone in the morning there are the requests for interviews from RTÉ radio morning sport and maybe from the Pat Kenny show. Kilkenny radio, of course, will want the inside track. Newstalk would love a few words. Dara Ó Cinnéide would appreciate the cúpla focal for Raidió na Gaeltachta.

As soon as breakfast is over the print media are back to gauge the morning-after feeling. A gaggle of freelance photographers want a few shots for the next day's dailies and posterity.

TV3 and TG4 would also like some footage for their first news bulletins. RTÉ One is there to see the bus departing the hotel and of course talk to Brian. The manager and captain are pulled right, left and centre. Brian Carthy is back for a few words for the evening sports bulletin.

Limerick's hotel is a much quieter place. Only a few loyal hacks make an appearance

The Kilkenny team have the silverware on the open-top bus. Great media interest still for the champions.

The Limerick people turn out in huge numbers to greet their heroes but there's no silverware and, believe me, it's all about the silverware.

What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours . . .