ON TUESDAY afternoon in Croke Park, the National Football League was launched. Micheal O Muirhcheartaigh was master of ceremonies and so the occasion was bright and buoyed by good-humoured anecdotes. Dublin's Tom Carr attended as did Galway manager John O'Mahony. Both had in recent times publicly voiced their belief in the league's worth and this faith was reiterated during a brief Q&A session chaired by O Muircheartaigh.

"Does the league matter very much to you?" he asked Carr, who duly declared that it did.

"How important was the league in the winning of the All-Ireland?" he inquired of O'Mahony, who obligingly allowed that it was very important - an opinion which he had forwarded from the very beginning. GAA president Joe McDonagh stepped forward and made reference to the "delusions" certain managers had created for themselves by issuing dreamy utterances about a league programme played at the height of mid-summer. The sum worth of such fanciful thoughts, implied McDonagh, was to be found in the reality of early championship drubbings for those managers who didn't buckle down and get serious for the winter period of Gaelic football.

In short, the event was an unapologetic effort to spruce up a competition that has fast become the sick man of Gaelic games. The basic argument in defence of the league was simple; history and statistics illustrate that teams which put it in on frosty nights and muddy days get their just rewards in the summer. Still, in the midst of all the examples of counties which had flourished thanks to long-forgotten league campaigns, one couldn't but think of an incidental remark made by Meath's Trevor Giles before the All-Ireland semi-final against Armagh last summer.

Giles was in the middle of a press session with a small group of journalists and he happened to mention that no player ever looked forward to playing in the league. Asked to elaborate, he simply pointed out that no one could possibly look forward to kicking football on marshy fields on drowsy Sundays in the middle of November.

It was significant that Giles had made this observation because he is far from a firebrand orator. Mild-mannered and affable off the pitch, the Meath man was merely echoing a belief which is predominant among current GAA players.

The football league reached its nadir on May 10th last, the day of the final between Cork and Dublin. Although it was played in Pairc Ui Chaoimh, Corkonians stayed away in droves and official statistics record the attendance at a very generous 10,000. The game itself, in keeping with the two numbingly pedestrian semi-finals, was drab and featureless, save an uncharacteristic show of over-enthusiasm from Jason Sherlock. Dublin were deflated by the manner of their loss as much as by their failure to take a title while Cork were, according to Larry Tompkins, "happy enough".

It was against that backdrop that this week's launch was organised and understandably the emphasis was very much on the future. Yet again the format of the league has been tinkered with and this year only teams from the top two divisions will advance to the semi-finals and duel for the league title. The top four in the lower divisions will play for the secondary honour. Both finals will be held in Croke Park.

Joe McDonagh, on a rare journey into the realms of wild optimism, envisages headquarters being full to capacity for the double header.

So, with the fireworks lit, the league commences tomorrow and there remains scepticism that seasoned players across the land might tonight fold their gear with butterflies in their bellies at the thought of embarking on a sevenmonth expedition in the hope of participating in that double header. There is a doubt, in fact, as to whether they are in any way excited at all.

"It honestly is hard to get yourself motivated at this time of year," admitted eal Micheal Magill, who captained Down to last year's Ulster final. "I believe there should be some sort of incentive for squads to go out and win the league, be it a holiday or whatever. But the idea of going to play football at this time of year isn't very appealing, either for footballers or the paying public. I think that really footballers need a four- or five-month break. In Down, we were playing until August. The Meath and Cork teams have had no break. And then there are club games to fulfil. It's a 12-month season now."

For a while, there was a certain romance attached to the notion of amateur idealists running laps in the depths of winter for a vague mid-summer dream which was very unlikely to be realised. Now, it's just seen as penance; hardship dictated by a calendar.

"There is no doubt that the league can be of benefit to teams when it comes to the championship," offers Declan Bonner, who has experienced the league playoffs as a player and now as manager with Donegal.

"Once you reach the semi-finals of the competition, then it takes on a new significance and you do want to win it. We got to a number of league finals in the '90s and there was disappointment when we didn't win it, definitely. Once I became manager, obviously my attitude to the league changed and I saw it as a way of bringing on young players and trying to get a blend. But against all that, it is fairly bleak and wintry in Donegal at the moment and it's hard to turn out in evenings and go about training for it."

If the various county squads are deserving of sympathy, then so too are the current sponsors of the National League, Church and General. Over their seven-year involvement, they have demonstrated unwavering faith in a competition which has taken a lot of criticism and have also thrown their weight behind the Cumman Na mBunscol drive at under-age level. They can hardly be blamed for lending their support to a competition which ultimately disintegrates in the shadow of the championship, the GAA's showpiece which has history, hype and intrigue all wrapped up. Is there any salvation for the league?

"In most sports, the league format is the one on which teams are judged because it involves major consistency over a period of time," pointed out Tom Carr after the launch on Tuesday.

"With the championship, our major competition, that doesn't happen. A bad bounce of the ball, refereeing decisions - look at what happened on the first day last year with Carlow and Westmeath with six red cards or whatever - there is no way back."

"So I'd like to see the league's profile raised somehow, and I can see no reason why we can't have Friday night games and Saturday evening games and floodlit matches. And you know, I think it could all be done in conjunction with the championship." Overwhelmingly, those involved with county squads are in favour of revising the league schedule. If there is truth in the Croke Park contention that the league does matter to teams, then it is also true that players asked to commit to a seven-month marathon of games and training before the premier contest even begins are in danger of burn-out.

"Even if it started in the New Year, you'd have some of the winter out of the way and it would help teams get a focus on the months ahead," commented Bonner.

"And if it was organised so it was played along with the championship, all the better. Everyone likes summer football."

But for now, November it is. Between now and the league final, there will be a mind boggling 117 games played. It seems an awful lot of time, money and sweat for a competition which holds, at best, a reluctant spot in the hearts of Gaelic football players.

The ideal solution would seem to be the introduction of a league formula to the championship system, thereby preserving the history of the provincial fare and eliminating the knock-out system which is now generally regarded as a nuisance to the development of the game.

But so long as teams show fortitude enough to slog through the mire of the winter programme and still manage to prime themselves for summer, change will be slow coming. Cork, league champions in May and All-Ireland finalists in September, provided the most recent example of this superhuman capacity for physical endurance.

Indeed, Larry Tompkins was due to parade the National League silverware at Croke Park for Tuesday's launch. He missed the speeches because, as Micheal O Muircheartaigh revealed, the train carrying Larry and the cup had broken down somewhere in Kildare.

It was a funny moment and also kind of apt.