AWAY ROM the madding crowds elsewhere, on another picturesque day at BeIfield Park yesterday, some strange things happened. Surprise, surprise, the mercurial boys from UCD registered a second consecutive victory and, what's more, ground it out none too prettily by virtue of defensive solidity rather than the beautiful game.

In stark contrast to Cork's unconvincing attempts to protect an early lead, UCD were discipline and concentration personified in absorbing 45 minutes of fairly persistent second half pressure. Tony McDonnell and Terry Palmer were veritable rocks, dominating everything in the air and sticking adhesively to John Caulfield and Barry Ryan. Around them, the wide men and midfielders funnelled back diligently, and behind them Seamus Kelly atoned admirably for the soft opener by Cork.

You got the impression that were Cork huffing and puffing away until the sun set, the UCD house would still be standing firm. "It was a battle," exhaled UCD manager Theo Dunne after that taut second half which left his team holding fourth place in an embryonic table. This, if the truth be told, without really playing as well as they can yet.

"That was the type of game we would have lost 12 months ago. We showed that when we're not playing good football we can battle for the points," said Dunne. A valid point, or three points, but better will be required against a needy Shelbourne and St Patrick's over the next fortnight.

"Our defending at the moment is very poor," reflected Cork manager Dave Barry ruefully, his mood moderately encouraged by the prospect of Declan Daly returning to the fray shortly after 18 months' absence. Alas, Tommy Gaynor is now humming and hawing over his proposed arrival and, with Pat Morley having moved on, City also miss a cutting edge.

In midfield Dave Hill, abrasive, teak tough and a goalscorer, alongside the veteran Patsy Freyne, still skilful after all these years, utterly two footed and neat and tidy, provide a nice balance.

Limited though Cork are, you sense they'll survive, although their heavy schedule of travelling will take its toll, and it may not always be a barrel of laughs. They began brightly enough, taking the lead when UCD's Palmer conceded a corner with a sliced clearance and Ollie Cahill's inswinger saw Hill score from close range against ghost opposition.

Within two minutes, Eamonn McLoughlin, Palmer and the impressive McDonnell worked a short free up the right, the latter's deft through ball releasing Ciaran Kavanagh to the byeline. His cross took a curious, inswinging trajectory; a backpedalling Phil Harrington actually did well to palm the ball on to the bar only for UCD's promising and versatile 18 year old Aidan Lynch to score the first of what should be many goals with the resultant tap in.

On the half hour Kavanagh skilfully latched onto a loose ball wide out and skipped past three opponents before cleverly picking out Darren O'Brien, who struck a sweet first time rising drive into the top right corner.

Kelly denied the tireless Caulfield with an outstretched leg but Cork's best chance fell on half time, Barry Ryan side footing wide when put clear by Freyne. On a good day UCD might have sucked Cork in and devoured them, but though Lynch twice threatened to extend UCD's lead, bringing the best out of Harrington before shooting just over on the run, the home team did not mount their usual threat after the break.

For all their huffing and possession, the closest Cork came was when Cahill's daisy cutter was turned around the post by Kelly.

It was all reasonably well handled by nominal linesman Eddie Barr, after the inability of Dick O'Hanlon to attend had resulted in a late search for a third official. Alas, ex Monaghan manager Billy Bagster declined, thus depriving us of a trilbied linesman and the Kodak moment to end all Kodak moments.

Watching it all in splendid isolation was Jason Sherlock, his fluorescent orange top reflecting the sun. He could have been on the moon. Not an autograph hunter to be found. Yet, this day a year ago he was the cream of Irish sporting life. That's sport, that's life.