HURLING CHAMPIONSHIP 2002/Clare v Tipperary: Seán Moran asks James O'Connor where  he and Clare stand on the eve of reopening hostilities with a familiar adversary

He can measure out his career using Tipperary as the gauge. James O'Connor arrived in the 1993 Munster final, his display a rare flash on a bleak day for Clare when Nicky English smiled and unwittingly inspired modern hurling's great rivalry.

Four years later, O'Connor crowned his best year to date by scoring the winning point in the All-Ireland final.

Three years ago, he broke his arm. His past two seasons have ended abruptly with this fixture. Such are the milestones.

Tomorrow, at Páirc Uí Chaoimh, the rivalry resumes on the opening day of the Guinness Munster hurling championship. It is the fifth meeting between the counties in four years and, where once was an undisputed focus of the GAA world, there is now lukewarm expectation.

Even the players can't fail to notice.

"There certainly seems to be apathy around the county," says O'Connor. "There's not the same demand for tickets - players will tell you that. A lot of it stems from the league. We played well against Galway - although we lost, the attitude was good and there were other positives. But after that we were beaten all over by Kilkenny and disappointing against Waterford although we won. The result was the only positive thing about it."

The NHL campaign ended with a five-star trimming from Limerick in the quarter-final. It would be ironic if Clare supporters of all people were allowing the league to spread despondency.

In the glory years, Ger Loughnane's team took a craftsman's pride in producing league performances that were entirely irreconcilable with subsequent championship feats.

"The league is a process to get you ready for the championship," says O'Connor, "but when we played Limerick in the quarter-final, 12 or 13 of us gave sub-par performances. You can attribute some of that to the difficulty of getting up for the league in March, but it was a contrast to last year when we took it seriously and did well.

"This year wasn't supposed to be that different. It was no secret in the past that Loughnane didn't take the league seriously, but the management vibes this year were that they wanted us to do well. I don't know why it was so different, but, when we beat Limerick last year, we were fired up by the size of the defeat by Tipp in 2000 and the fact that we hadn't won a serious match in a couple of years."

Clare's dingy form coming into the championship is counterpointed by Tipperary's status as All-Ireland champions. The perceived gap between the teams is greater than at any time since the rivalry got into full swing eight years ago. If that wasn't enough to dull expectation, there's the sheer over-familiarity of the pairing.

"The media focus and general outlook of supporters has been more subdued," according to O'Connor. "We're meeting Tipperary every year. I wouldn't say it's a drag; it's the first round of the Munster championship and you'll feel the electricity on the day, but there is a lower level of anticipation. Certain elements of our support are fickle, but the same intensity will be there for the players.

"Last year both teams had form going into the game. Now they'll come out in style as All-Ireland champions, we're a year older with not many new faces and people look at it and say, 'yeah, Tipp will win this'."

The assumption is there, but it almost blasphemes the recent tradition of unflinching conflict between the counties and how hard to call these matches should be with their high stakes and high temper. O'Connor disputes that the rivalry was ever excessive or that last year's match featured some unpleasant attempts at intimidation by Clare.

"We should have beaten them last year. It was a tight and physical game - the way we wanted it. We did everything we could. I don't know why it went the way it did. I honestly didn't think it was that physical. There was the incident before the throw-in, but it certainly wasn't a dirty game, there was no undercurrent."

The incident before the throw-in saw Clare's Gerry Quinn flake the legs off Mark O'Leary. In a definitive rendering of the phrase "adding insult to injury" a yellow card was shown to both players a couple of minutes into the match.

There had been rumblings during the week before the match that Clare would not be inhibited in their tactics. While not defending such excesses, O'Connor explains that the match meant more to the team than perhaps was widely understood.

"You've got to remember we were very wound up for it. Dalo (former captain Anthony Daly) spoke passionately in the dressing-room before we went out and there were even older players with tears coming down their faces.

"Dalo's an emotional guy and it was an emotional speech. Afterwards I was surprised at how devastated I was by losing.

"The next day I had a round of golf with Seán McMahon and Brian Lohan and I know them for years. The two lads were barely able to talk. That's a reflection of the way we prepared last year. We felt if we could beat Tipp we were going places. Cork had just been beaten by Limerick; we reckoned Kilkenny wouldn't be as hungry after winning the All-Ireland. We thought we'd a great chance."

Adding to the anguish and frustration was the fact that, after putting in a very mediocre effort - particularly in attack where only O'Connor himself and David Forde fired - they had lost to the eventual champions by only a point. To the frustration was added recrimination.

Full forward Niall Gilligan was the favourite target. "The amount of personal criticism he took. This is a guy who has won games in the past for Clare and will win them in the future. It was grossly unfair."

O'Connor recognised the symptoms.

After Clare's operatic summer of 1998, he embarked on a two-year run of virtually uninterrupted activity with his St Joseph's reacing the next two All-Ireland finals, winning one, and Clare who again had a six-match championship without winning the All-Ireland. The only break for O'Connor was an enforced two-month absence after he broke his arm in the 1999 replay against Tipperary.

By 2000, there was irrefutable evidence of burnout.O'Connor, Baker and McMahon looked knackered and even manager Ger Loughnane realised that he couldn't produce anything further from the panel. In retrospect, the attempt to revive the good times by intensifying the rigours of training can be seen to have backfired.

"It's just not possible to have the same appetite. The three of us had been on the go for so long we were tired. Then, on top of that, Ger always felt that Ollie needed extra work. We played Kilkenny in Gowran two weeks before playing Tipp. They hammered us. I think we all knew then that we'd done too much."

That match two years ago brought down the curtain on the Loughnane era. His backroom team of Cyril Lyons and Louis Mulqueen took over. Lyons is an entirely different personality to his predecessor, but, according to O'Connor, much of the tried and tested approach remains.

"Ger felt that he'd been with us for five or six years and there's only so many things you can do new. He needed to make the break. Cyril was a new voice. He wasn't going to try to be another Loughnane - that would be impossible - he's his own man but we've been training the same way and the quality of the coaching has continued.

"That was important because Loughnane was totally under-rated as a hurling coach. His public profile and personality were so big that it wasn't as noticed that the guy was a fantastic coach."

Maybe another reason for subdued expectations tomorrow is the introduction of the qualifier system, which proved so successful in football last year. It takes the apocalyptic edge off the result and means that whoever comes second won't be immediately lost to the championship.

Like nearly all players, O'Connor doesn't believe there is any argument on the merits of the new format.

Aside from lending a bit more meaning to the punishing routines that inter-county panels undertake andproviding for such high fitness levels a better outlet than the 70-minute season Clare have had in each of the past two years, the qualifiers address the one abiding wish of every hurler or footballer.

"I remember being outside Páirc Uí Chaoimh on my own, not wanting to talk to anyone. If there was one wish you had it would be for another bite of the cherry."

For illustration, he recalls the infamous second match against Offaly four years ago when referee Jimmy Cooney blew it up more than two minutes early. The following morning a refixture was ordered. For Clare, what had already been a controversial, extended season was taking another turn.

"We walked off as far as we were concerned in an All-Ireland final and that evening when we heard we had to do it again everyone was very low. Of course, for Offaly it was the reverse. Say last year we had got another crack at Tipp a week after losing to them. How would we be?"

Seven years ago, during Clare's memorable summer of 1995 when Munster and All-Ireland titles were won, one of the abiding statistics to emerge was that the team was composed of 15 bachelors. This was of great assistance in pursuing the more manic aspects of Loughnane and Michael McNamara's training regimes.

Time moves on and, like many of his team-mates, James O'Connor has a family and all the demands that come with it.

Although a high-profile activist and president of the GPA, he is reticent about reeling off the various impositions on his time and is conscious of the unsympathetic perception that players spend too much time whingeing about their lot.

Nonetheless, his own circumstances mean that he can no longer accept the inevitability of an inter-county career and its consequent demands.

"Look it. Commitment. We've a six-month-old baby. My wife Caroline is gone at 7.30 in the morning and is back at 7.30 in the evening on a good day. She's a chartered accountant working in industry and it's a pressurised job.

"We're lucky that both families are within an hour of us, but you've still to organise a babysitter if I'm going to be late back. Things aren't as straightforward as they used to be.

"This year for the first time I'm dealing with sleepless nights. I wake on a Saturday with nine o'clock training and think how I'd love another couple of hours in bed and a four-ball around Lahinch. Can I see myself doing this in three or four years' time? Family does change things. Maybe I'll have to review the situation."

For the first time, he feels the shadows falling on the life he unquestioningly accepted for over 10 years.

This season will have a major influence on any decision about his future. Tomorrow's match will have a major influence on his season.

Game on. Or game off.