The former underage prodigy is happy to be one of a brotherhood of equals, he tells John O'Sullivan

The burden of expectation is light on the broad shoulders of Denis Leamy these days, a state of affairs that did not always pertain in his school and university days at Rockwell College and UCC. An outstanding prospect then - potential he has fulfilled - he was a player to whom others looked for inspiration or a galvanising force.

He was the focal point on most of the underage teams, expected to lead in word and deed; now he is content with a supporting role.

It doesn't prevent him from standing out, as he has several times done for province and country this season. But he no longer feels the need to be all things to all team-mates, an impossible task that prompted one or two mistakes along the way. He is content doing the job of a professional rugby player, mature enough at 24 to avoid the occasional pitfalls of the past.

He's definitely not embracing monasticism but knows the value of moderation. "I like watching a bit of television or going to the cinema," he says. "It's hard enough when there are big games coming along every week to get out for a pint. I'd enjoy a few pints with the boys from home (he is based in Cork).

"You have to mind yourself . . . erring on the side of caution. I enjoy going out with the lads, catching up on the gossip from back home in Tipperary. The topic nearly always ends up in rugby. They really want to know what's going on and find out what fellas are like and all that. From their point of view it gives them a link to the team. I'm happy to play that role."

Personal sacrifices are a small price to pay in pursuit of a sport he loves but he knows demands on his time can affect those close to him.

"It can be hard on your family more than yourself. They want you to be at certain things and you can't sometimes. That's hard, but sacrifices have to be made.

"You have to be a little bit selfish at times and look after number one. You need your rest, have to watch your diet. You can't do that if you're heading out every second night. People want a piece of you and much as you'd like to say yes and help people out . . . you do have to draw the line sometimes.

"Growing up I learnt a lot of harsh lessons. In college there were times when I ended up out drinking when I shouldn't have. Sometimes you pay the price for that. The important thing is you learn from those experiences, maybe not the first time but quickly enough."

The highlight of an excellent season for Leamy was probably the Six Nations match in Paris where, to borrow a phrase from the host nation, he produced a tour de force before and during the gallant Irish comeback that ended in defeat. He's content to file away those memories for another day.

"I don't dwell on it. The minute you stand still, you're going to be knocked off your spot. Jim Telfer said it on that Lions video from the South African tour in 1997: no matter how good a player you are, you have to get up every morning with the attitude that you're going to improve. If you ever consider yourself the finished article then you'll be in a lot of trouble."

In terms of Saturday's match, Leamy points out a similarity between the combatants: the hunger to win after crushing disappointments in the Heineken European Cup. Munster may have been almost there more often and for longer, but Biarritz have lost two semi-finals and a quarter-final in the last three years.

"They've been there two or three years and should have made the final last year. That only makes you more resilient and hungrier to go on and achieve," says Leamy.

"I see that with the lads, the older fellas here, who've been through the mill. You have to wonder how many times they will have to be put down before they finally give up. It's a credit to the type of people that they look to keep coming back.

"They carry the younger guys along, like Jerry (Flannery) and myself, and instil that belief that we're never beaten, we never give up and we can beat anyone."

Although he didn't play in either of Munster's European final defeats (2000 and 2002), the images remain etched on his memory. In 2000 he watched in Mikey Ryan's pub in Cashel. In 2002 (having played a few games for Munster) he watched with his brothers in the family home.

This time he is centre-stage in Cardiff's theatre of rugby.

He's a few pre-match rituals.

"I'd say a couple of small prayers to avoid getting an injury and maybe for a little bit of luck."

Munster are overdue a share in the latter respect.