Dusk falls in Newbridge and the athletes scribble a few autographs and sidle off. The Kildare goalkeeper is holding court on the edge of the pitch. He looks out at the world from the base of a peaked cap, a good ol' southern-boy grin stretched across his face.

Around Kildare, they talk of Christy Byrne being from "the south" as though to visit his home place would mean a pick-up truck ride along dusty back roads, broken only by cups of gumbo and the sight of skinny young lads with warped grins playing banjo.

But although a thin history of inter-county stars has been reaped from the southern lands, Byrne's deliverance to the big time was straightforward. He sort of just picked his spot.

"I always played outfield when I was younger - midfield, half back, wherever - right up to when I was 16 for Castlemitchell. Then one Tuesday evening I played a junior B match with the older lads and the next weekend, they picked me for the championship. I thought I was too young to be playing outfield then, so I asked to be stuck in goals."

Thing is, he meant for the hour, not for a sporting lifetime. But he was light-footed and lithe, a selfassured natural and within a year he was on the Kildare minor side, for whom he kept goal over three summers.

"I suppose I got into the soccer as well when I went into secondary school and a few mates said I had a bit of promise then. Eamon Darcy (the former Ireland B goalkeeper) took an interest in me, gave me a lot of valuable tips and I just began to work on my game."

His rise from football's back waters, then, was irresistible, linking up with the county under-21s before he was snatched by Mick O'Dwyer at the age of 19. And not for him a dank February league debut in Tuam or Bally bofey.

"Yeah, I came on in the Leinster final in 1993. I was just sort of thrown in and managed to keep a clean sheet, which was pleasing even if we were beaten."

And at home, around the Castlemitchell club, through to Athy and the other townlands across south Kildare, they drank deep to his presence.

"Being the only player from the south of the county is a bit of an honour, I suppose. The thing is, there are a lot of good footballers from the clubs there, it's just that they are still developing. The future is bright, though. I remember watching Sean McGovern, who is from the same area, playing for Kildare and he was a man I admired greatly. I got to know him well later on and he's a great character even off the field. But it's just a matter of time before more youngsters come through."

Over the past five years, Byrne has long since proven himself beyond his curious heritage. Although unflinchingly steady, he does have a touch of the flamboyant about him, somehow commanding attention.

He is adventurous, never afflicted with the goalkeeper's fear of the penalty or other possible hazards. During the All-Ireland semi-final against Kerry, he twice ventured into foreign terrain while carrying the ball, merrily soloing out among the Kerry half-forwards, who momentarily looked as astonished as his brethren in the stands.

He grins at the memory. Maybe he's been riding his luck but, what the hell, it's been a good year for 'keepers named Byrne.

"Look, the way I see it is that possession is nine-tenths of the law," he explains. "When I get the ball, I don't just kick it for the sake of kicking it. I wait and see who I can play it off to. Now, a couple of years ago I would probably have hoofed into the stands. Carrying the ball might be high risk, but I think I'd be ready for whatever challenge might come in."

He looks up to see Mick O'Dwyer's frame in silhouette, standing in the doorway of the clubhouse, speaking in that even, hoarse brogue of his. Talk turns to the restless Kerryman with the slow-burning, ceaseless passion for the game. His 'keeper shakes his head.

"Mick, y'know, is just colossal. He brought so much knowledge and experience from his days with Kerry. I suppose there was mixed reaction to his coming back to the county but . . . like, I dunno the full story, I think that Dermot (Earley) resigned and Micko wanted to come back. I think he sensed he had a job to fulfil here, that we could win Leinster. It was an act of faith, to a degree. He had a point to prove in difficult circumstances."

Although O'Dwyer's messiah status is assured now, there were rumblings in the early days, dissenters in the stands, particularly when his son Karl pulled on a lilywhite jersey for his first league game.

"I was playing that day and if there was any of that, it has well and truly gone. People might have thought, `Oh, it's the manager's son' but Micko took a gamble and it paid off. I don' know what the story was down in Kerry but I bet they are sorry they let Karl go now, because he kicked a few terrific points against them."

There is a sharpness to the evening. Winter is hovering and Kildare have still have another Sunday in Croke Park. Alien times. Byrne shivers in anticipation but he knows the deal.

"It's about a lot more than stopping shots now. I talk to the defence a whole time, roaring at SOS or Brian Lacey if they are losing shape and they call back to me. Sometimes, though, you're scream ing and you know that you just aren't going to be heard."

He has felt the sting of the Galway attack before and rates their forwards among the best in the game.

"They have some fine scoretakers. But our backs have been playing outstanding football as well. Should be interesting."

Should be, Christy.