FRESH night Pat Rabbitte and John Raftery stand into the hallway out of the draft. From the other side of a dressing room door comes the sound of voices.

"Great men for the talking," says John.

"Beauts," says Pat.

Pat, the club secretary, and John, one of the club's main sponsors, have a busy week to get through. Complimentary tickets. Player passes. Transport. Hotels. Fund raising. Busy week. Busy lives.

John runs the pub just beside the Corofin pitch, a focal point of club life. Raftery's.

"Better throw a couple of stools from the bar on to the bus on Sunday for the lads that'll be playing the poker," says John.

"You've never seen such a relaxed bunch," says Pat. "Ray will be stretched out fast asleep across four seats. They'll have to step over him to get up the aisle. Big match. What match? Happy go lucky is the way here."

From behind the door a heated passionate voice sounds. "That's Ollie." "He's pushing hard for his place."

Ollie Burke played for Galway minors back in 1974. Twenty two years later he's still pushing on with the football. Tried to give it up for a while but couldn't. His voice bounces around the room, finds receptive ears. "You know you're good enough lads, you know. It's application on Sunday."

Old heads and young heads listening. Some of these boys have been playing senior for two decades. The midfield pairing of Padraig Glynn and Gerry Burke have almost 80 years of living done between them. Young heads too. Eight of the lads are still playing under 21.

Same place, different experiences. One happy go lucky ethos.

Mac the goalie is at the heart of this team. Martin MacNamara is still the right side of 30 although he is nearing that particular border. He's been tending goal for the seniors since he was 16.

"I'd say I've been playing since I was about 10. Never won a medal until we won the championship in 1991. We lost five semi finals in a row in the 80s. Two in a row to Dunmore. Last kick of the game the first year against them I let a goal through my legs and we lost.

The next year I was injured and Pat, the brother, was in goals. Same thing. Low kick through the legs of the full back and through Pat's legs. Goal. All over. We were popular in Corofin, I can tell you.

Derek Reilly, the corner forward, turned 18 a couple of weeks ago. He's playing minor again next summer. For a while there last year he was wearing his hair shaved tight to the head at the sides. Good looking young superstar in waiting. The defeats in Derek Reilly's Corofin years stand out like monuments on a great plain of winning.

The first game I played at under 12 we lost. We went on to win the championship that year. We won everything all the way after that. Four minor championships in a row. The only other match I've ever lost playing for Corofin was against Laune Rangers in the Feile na Gael in 1991. They beat us 7-7 to 1-4.

And that's it. Two games. Fourteen, 15 county medals, maybe more, he can't really remember. An All Ireland with St Jarlath's of Tuam, an All Ireland semi final and final with the Galway minors. Any wonder that Reilly carries himself with a confidence rarely seen in Galway football.

In the Connacht club final against St Mary's of Carrick on Shannon, Derek Reilly whipped in two astonishing goals in the first 10 minutes and the game was dead in the water.

"Aye," says Derek Reilly, "the parents took a lot of coaxing to agree to let me play senior this year. But sure it's worked out well. You get better service at this levels"

The county seniors are knocking at Reilly's door too. Senior inter county. He'll leave it be till the summer, he thinks. Heavy winter pitches and heavy corner backs aren't the ideal recruiting tools.

"Look at Jason Sherlock," they say around Coiofin. He's a summer player. Derek is the same. Light and fast."

"We'll see," says Derek. "Anything could happen." Light and fast.

Different strands. How did it all start? How did this small relaxed club with two championships to its name metamorphose, into the machine that has won three county titles and two provincial titles this decade, sweeping the boards at under age level in Galway, representing the future of Galway football?

How come this lovely pitch is graced by a small sturdy stand and neat dressing room complex the bulk of which they erected one fine Christmas week three years ago when everybody was home and available, the structure staking shape like a scene out of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers?

Nobody seems too sure. Football is as constant as the wind, its origins equally unquestioned.

MAC the goalie explains Well, Frank Morris just started out training a bunch of lads on Saturdays down at the field. They won and more came and they kept winning. When the club is going well the membership goes up and the club lotto goes well and people in the parish get involved.

The parish stretches right out across a huge parcel of Galway countryside, 47 miles from end to end, about 2,500 people dotted about the place. Maybe 1,800 will travel to Ennis tomorrow.

Anything else to this phenomenon?

"Well, Frank Morris comes from Belclare. Belclare used to have a club but they amalgamated with Corofin. After that a lot of the Belclare fellows never bothered much with the football. A lot of older Belclare people would still resent that business. When Frank started up he brought a lot of them with him. That was good."

So Belclare amalgamated with Corofin at a time when players were hard to find. The two clubs played a much against each other to see which name they would use Corofin won. Belclare decided that if Corofin's name was to be used, Belclare's colours would be worn. Not part of the deal, said Corofin. So the club wears a yellow strip born out of compromise.

Till Frank Morris came along the Belclare boys never bothered too much. That argument over name and colours happened in the 1930s, by the way.

Martin MacNamara. Mac is only the second man from Corofin to captain Galway. Jimmy Duggan did it in the 1970s. Galway lost in the first round on both occasions. When Galway exited to Leitrim in 1994 Mac got a call from Boston asking him to go and play for Connemara Gaels. Went. Liked it.

Last spring his feet got itchy again and he headed away. Didn't seem to be leaving much behind. Galway football was stagnant. Corofin? Struggling.

"There was a feeling I'd say that the team was past it. Tony Murphy had taken over and nobody wanted to be a selector or put any work into it. A year ago we were out here and there were only four of us at training. Me and Danny Ryder and a couple of others. Four. We said that we couldn't ask Tony to go getting fellas to come out again, it was up to us. A few weeks before the championship began we started getting the numbers out."

Then the wanderlust bit and Mac left for the Bronx and young Glen Comer inherited his place between the sticks. Summer rolled on. Galway went to an All Ireland semi final. Corofin went to a county semi final. Mac decided he'd best head home.

Happy go lucky. In the county semi final Glen Comer was seriously con cussed early on. Mac with one training session under his generous belt, came in. There were raised eyebrows in the club when he kept his place for the final against Tuam Stars. Less so when he saved a penalty in the last minute of the game.

America rang Mac on Thursday inquiring about players for the summer. "I told them you'd go for sure," says Mac to Comer pulling the young lad's tail, in the dressing room before training. "Get you off the scene at last."

"Don't worry Glen," comes another voice. "Come back with not training done and they'll fuck him bout straight away.

Nothing these barbs. On county final day Mac made sure that Glen Comer was included in the team photo. Sixteen Corofin men baffling the local photographer. "Glen was unlucky," says Mac. "He's going to take the place back sooner or later. He's the best young keeper in the county."

Four years ago Mac played in goals for Corofin in another All Ireland club semi final against another Kerry team. The Crokes of Killarney were as vaunted as the Rangers of Laune. He tells a typically self deprecating story.

"Pat O'Shea, their corner forward, was pinpointed as the danger man. The sort of fella who'll make you look stupid. He walks" right across the square in front of you, they said. First time he does it threaten him.

Mac did his duty. No reaction. O'Shea appeared not to hear a thing. Not long after ... Bang. Crokes goal. Sharp quip from O'Shea. Mac boiling on the side a lines. Soon afterwards. Bang. Another goal. More wise ass words in the wind.

"Next thing I see Pat O'Shea with the ball and coming towards me. I saw red. I was mad. I ran over him. My only hope was that it was the first offence. Referee Carthage Buckley didn't see it that way. Straight off. It was the first match the mother had ever come to see me play. She was disgusted. So that's what you're at.

Crokes scored with the subsequent penalty.

That was four years ago. Corofin have rolled on. Tonight after training they are in conclave.

At the start of the football year, 12 months ago now, they had another meeting here in the dressing rooms and Tony Murphy told them that he'd be happy for the season Just to stay up and stay senior.

Alter the county final they had another meeting, Tony asked if they wanted to have a real crack at the Connacht title. Sure, why not, said the boy, why not. After the Connacht final the didn't even bother with a meeting.

"Sure maybe there's a message there, says Mac."

Raised voices issue from the dressing room now. Last words. Strong words Things which a team says to itself on the eve of battle. The intense, steely passionate words of winners, Different men behind the dressing room, door. No happy go lucky hearth in there as they get ready to do it all again for Corofin.