ONE side effect of Laois's meeting with Tipperary in tomorrow's semi final has been to confound Babs Keating's media strategy.

On taking over as manager of Laois last autumn the man who had won All Irelands with Tipperary both as a player and a manager said that he was anxious not to attract the attention of the national newspapers, and, so discourage any assumption that he had become the alpha and omega of Laois hurling.

This weekend, however, he is unavoidably the centre of media attention as he leads his new county to confront the old at Nowlan Park, Kilkenny. The newsworthiness is compounded by curiosity about Laois, usually a bridesmaid sort of county.

Laois haven't been in a League semi final for 13 years, back in the days when their profile extended to appearing in Leinster finals as well as the 1984 Centenary Cup final. This year's quarter final defeat of Kilkenny was as jubilantly received as it was unexpected.

Keating knows his way around sufficiently well to appreciate that the bleached bones of good League runs litter roads that led many promising teams nowhere.

His initial observations on Laois included the assessment that both hurling and football teams from the county had in the past tended to look their best during the winter and somewhat tired by the summer - and that he intended to remedy that. Training would start in earnest after the League.

The team's unforeseen exploits have disrupted that schedule and a weekend away in Waterford planned for two weeks time may have to be exchanged for a League final in Thurles or Croke Park (or, given the current mood of the GAC, Clones).

This isn't to suggest that training to data has been languid.

Under the eye of Lt Col Johnny Murray, the panel has been well stretched, but serious business is as yet unstarted. As well as establishing one of those vicious but lovable reputations often to be found among football and hurling trainers, Murray has drawn the respect of observers.

According to Laois PRO and local broadcaster Jack Nolan, Kilkenny born Murray's expertise extends beyond merely physical preparation. He remembers standing on the sideline during a game early this season and not paying much attention to the new trainer until he heard him barking hurling instructions at the players.

He knows his stuff. Going back 20 years in football and hurling, I can't remember a physical coach who knew as much about the game. He has a great rapport with the lads. He has them crucified and laughing."

The main interest, however, focuses on Keating. Colourful and outspoken during his eight years with Tipperary, he grafts flamboyance on to the less than glamorous plant of Laois hurling.

The county's story in recent times is one of under achievement so dismal that Wexford hand become their bogey team. Laois have some good hurlers and experience, an average age of 27, but a collective lack of belief that discouraged many from giving the commitment crucial to reaching even the starting blocks in serious competitive hurling.

The current side has a case history that begins and ends with championship defeats. Two years ago, under Pat Critchley's management, the county bounced out of Division Two in third place, but holding off the competing attentions of Offaly. Spirits rose.

Within a few months, Laois had been butchered by Wexford in the championship and Offaly were All Ireland champions.

"Back when we gained promotion," says current captain John O'Sullivan. "there was a lot of talking about Laois being dark horses and I think the Wexford result was the result of being carried away. It was a terrible beating. The mood among players wad completely in the doldrums."

The slide continued during the following League and the county's stay in Division One was brief. With the championship on the horizon, less than a full team was attending training. Challenge matches against Westmeath and Carlow had to faced similarly under strength.

Critchley, as distinguished a hurler as the county had produced and Laois's first All Star, was passionate about the game and the county, but no one was exactly burning in response.

"People don't recognise a prophet in his own land," says O'Sullivan. "I can't put a finger on it. Pat was unfortunate, he had an exceptional and deep understanding of the game. . ." But. It was as if the Wexford result had killed off collective self belief.

Last summer, though, a strange thing happened. After the indifference of the early summer gave way to a couple of weeks of effort, Laois nearly beat Kilkenny. Only a late goal edged the then League champions to a two point win.

In the dressingroom afterwards down in Carlow, selector Sean Cuddy banged the wall and said: "Lads, look what you could do in three weeks. Imagine if you'd put.a in three months." There was, says Jack Nolan, regret.

"A lot of lads were very sorry. To have run Kilkenny to a puck of the ball..."

Pat Critchley departed, but left in place much of the team than plays tomorrow. Babs Keating arrived to the welcome normally accorded outsiders with All Ireland medals and reputations. He would have got away with doing nothing for a while, but of course the reputation didn't come from nowhere.

"The main thing about Babs," says John O'Sullivan, "is that we took it as a compliment that he was even interested in us. The minute he took over was a vote of confidence."

It is easy to forget that Keating isn't simply a production line coach from a powerful county where All Ireland medals beget more All Ireland medals.

When he took over Tipperary, the county hadn't won an All Ireland for 15 years and, according to one player, had become sick of opponents coming into our dressingroom after beating us and wishing us the best of luck and saying the hoped we'd soon be back where we used to be. We felt it was patronising and that outsiders were laughing at us".

Keating turned that around within a couple of years. He was different in that he lived in Dublin and hadn't - with one exception - any great coaching experience. He brought to the job what he brought everywhere brilliant organisation, and a big personality radiating confidence.

He had been involved with Galway for a couple of seasons at the end on the 1970s and coach the county to the 1979 All Ireland final where they were to lose to Kilkenny. Joe McDonagh, president elect of the GAA, captained Galway that year and clearly remembers Keating's impact.

"The first thing," says McDonagh, "was the absolute need for dedication to one hurling cause. He used examples of his own learn and the Dublin team of Kevin Heffernan in the seventies. He got over the idea not alone to train collectively, but also to train on one's own.

He was tremendously well organised and always put a lot of thought into his sessions. He was also great for correction - for want of a better word. He stopped practice matches and talked to players and gave advice, he was very hands on.

"We had the height of respect for him. He finished playing around 1972 or 73 which was within our own period as players. He utilised the tact that he had an All Ireland medal. He was a confident man and inspired confidence, instilled self belief in us.

"I would say he played a vital role in Galway's ultimate success. We all learned from him. I'd compare it to the way Len Gaynor laid the ground for Ger (Loughnane) in Clare."

Not surprisingly, when he took over Laois, the problems of availability and commitment subsided. Maybe everyone was in better humour after last summer, but Keating's impact was indisputable.

The team lost their first match in Division Two, to divisional winners Wexford, but went on to win all their remaining matches.

Watching Laois's manager last Tuesday in Abbeyleix at training was a bit puzzling. He ambled cheerfully around the pitch while the Lieutenant Colonel drilled the panel. Occasionally he would gather the players around and say something and then wander off to chat to someone on the sideline or to enter into deep discussion with someone else.

Training isn't at full steam in the lead ups to a big match, but anyway, training isn't all he does. His enthusiasm and energy for the job swallows up all sorts of tasks. The Supporters' Club speak admiringly of his heroic productivity when flogging cards, horses and whatever for the race night, plus the way he has involved players in fund raising - broadening the sense of purpose.

"Fellas are in awe of him," says O'Sullivan. "There could be pandemonium in the dressingroom, but when he walks in, there's silence. This year I'd say there's been 98 or 99 per cent attendance at training.

Even more impressive is O'Sullivan's belief that the new manager's influence is only beginning to be felt. "He hasn't had that much time to work on the hurling through the nights of winter training and we can't get stuck into it just yet, but when we do, he hopes to improve us another 30 per cent.

Thirty per cent: the main contenders in Leinster may well see that as hype, but who really thinks that Babs Keating will leave Laois without a major championship scalp under his belt? The question is whose.