Déjà vu. Walking through the rain, (the incessant, annoying, soaking rain) it was a flashback to last year. Replace Waterford with Kilkenny, take five points off the final difference, and there you have it - another Thurles collapse.

From De Scribe’s position in the stands, close to the press area, there was a feast of pundits coming and going. Loughnane bounded up and down the steps during the afternoon, taking a gentle ribbing from the patrons as he passed by. Will he be back in Thurles soon in a more ‘active’ capacity? Donal O’Grady slipped by almost unnoticed; the man who had masterminded Cork’s most recent All-Ireland win was now just one of the people. Len Gaynor was in the vicinity – the collapse surely reminding him of similar occurrences under his reign as Clare manager. Fergie Tuouhy was floating around, as in his playing days, chatting to various hurling aficionados. Hurling men one and all. For good measure Joe Connolly of Galway fame was seated just in front of De Scribe. It was indeed privileged company.

What happened? The first half didn’t go too badly, Clare were sticking with the Cats, Davy Fitz was acrobatically keeping the felines at bay. Level at half-time, the talk in the stands was of how we might be in for a great second-half. If only…

By the time Kilkenny had grabbed their third goal, Banner men, women and children had already begun their retreat from the battleground. The weather made the whole thing all the more miserable. De Scribe, as is his policy, stayed until the bitter end - and it was bitter. This may have only been the League, but a 14 point hammering on any day is not easy to consume. There were times in the second-half when Clare actually struggled to rise the ball - it was as if they were playing a different game to their opponents. Tough to watch.

At least this defeat wasn’t fatal, unlike the one back in August when the Cats took their second chance to put the Banner away. At least Clare have June 5th to look forward to. Another Bank Holiday weekend, another trip to Thurles (possibly) or maybe the closer environs of the Gaelic Grounds. This defeat leaves the whole thing back up in the air. Just where do we stand with this team? Is it the end or the beginning? Or is it just in between, meandering from game to game? What are we to make of an impressive League showing until the last 35 minutes? Do wins over Tipperary, Cork, Waterford and Kilkenny hold any value at all?

Will this team have it within them to produce fire and brimstone this summer? Is there one final surge within them, a fitting response to the tenth anniversary of that golden summer in ’95? Just how much is left in the legs of the older players? Pace is still not one of Clare’s greatest strengths and with this current crop it isn’t going to be.

The supporters. They weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders yesterday either. Perhaps, like the team, the stage has to be set and the occasion revved up, before they find their form. It was disheartening to see so many abandon ship before the end of the proceedings. De Scribe can never understand, no matter what the situation/score, why any supporter would choose to leave their post. Yesterday was a day to take the medicine.

It was an unsatisfying end to an unsatisfying League. Rule changes were unruly, irritation was the order of the day as players were evicted from the action for trivial offences. The number of one-sided games was worrying. Wexford were knocked from pillar to post as the memories of last year’s smash and grab against the Cats faded completely. Tipperary and Limerick were not at the races, going through the motions, not exactly sure where or who they were. Waterford were inconsistent, whilst the Rebels seemed uninterested. Confusion reigned, nobody knew what the truth was.

At this moment, the day after the League before, it feels like the last few months have been a waste of time for the majority of counties. Most just meandered through it, not sure exactly where they were going. Amidst the coverage of soccer, rugby and Gaelic football, the League shuffled on, head bowed, not really bothering anyone. Perhaps this lacklustre Final was the appropriate way for it to conclude.

The Championship can’t come soon enough…