Reaction/Cork: It is a funny walk, the long and dimly-lit corridor underneath the tunnel of the Cusack stand. Champions peel off and hurry one way, the inconsolable blindly turn in the opposite direction. After the colour and madness of the field, the corridor is as low-key and sanitised as a doctor's waiting room. It is like passport control - a place to get through as fast as possible.

Strange sights everywhere. Peter Barry offering Ben O'Connor a hug of congratulations as a medical team rushes by with a red-clad fan overcome with the emotion of the day.

Seán Óg Ó hAilpín jogging up the carpet like a man with an urgent appointment elsewhere. Tommy Walsh wandering through a crowd of officials and stewards like a boy lost, his red helmet still fastened to his head.

And in the middle of it all walks Donal O'Grady, unhurried, unfazed, unchanged. Already there is speculation about whether the Cork manager will return next season, but if this was to be his grace note, he remained inscrutable to the last.

He lined himself up against the wall and fielded the questions without blinking. O'Grady doing stand-up is not the stuff of hilarity, but Cork hurling did not need a comedian when they asked the schoolteacher to lead them back to September days.

What they got instead was cool clarity and a formidable sense of authority. From the first minute, O'Grady brought that. Now, at season's end, that has brought all the rewards.

"There is a huge difference between winning and losing," he is saying. "Judging by the media people outside your door when you win and outside your door when you lose - there was one, I think, here last year. I think we deserved it.

"We played well in the second half. We were tense early on, but it was difficult conditions. Last year we missed too many chances to win and didn't deserve it, but we put that right this year."

Twelve months ago, O'Grady stood here after a game that Cork might have won. It was the summer of Setanta and Cork, although outsiders came with a heartbeat. Yesterday, they played as if defeat was not an option. There was no doubt.

"There was talk about Kilkenny going for three in a row. There was no motivation to stop Kilkenny. We didn't talk about it. There was no motivation to go 29 titles or whatever it was.

"None of the players spoke about it. The whole thing was: we are in an All-Ireland final, let's come back and win it.

"I thought the game was good and tough - we were expecting a few tugs and pulls and we were up for that. 'Tis part of the game. And people talked about Cork not being able to deal with tough stuff, but I think that is gone for the last 10 or 20 years."

Perhaps it is no coincidence that the steely-eyed North Mon teacher has been on the Cork scene for that period. Will he give it one more year? "Ah, that is not a question to be answered tonight. 'Tis all about the players to be honest."

Nearby, Wayne Sherlock stands in his boots and gear, leaning on his hurl. One of JBM's babies during the rising in 1999, Sherlock has waited five years for a second All-Ireland final without ever contemplating a serious dip in form. His latest 70 minutes have been as tidy and busy as ever.

"We said before the game there is definitely going to be times when Kilkenny go ahead and that is when we have to dig deep. So, lucky enough, we were only a point down at the half when we could have been a goal or two.

"We didn't get too worked up at half-time. We didn't play too well, made a few stupid mistakes and played for about five minutes out of the 35. And we were still only a point down against an outstanding team like Kilkenny.

"Kilkenny looked a bit tired, I dunno. We always seemed to have the extra bit and there was eight points at the end of it. That is satisfying.

"But they are on the road a long time and you cannot beat hunger at the end of it."

Twenty-nine All-Irelands and they are still talking rumbling stomachs. On Cork-coloured days, the rest of the world might as well throw a hat at it.