The roars of approval, the taunts, left him smarting more out of confusion than of hurt. He never knew that cheering could sound so empty. He finished out the season slumped on a bench, idly observing his team-mates falter against a delighted Limerick side while the stinging howls of disdain rang in his ears. His own county folk, glad to see the back of him.

The day after that semi-final defeat, his brother, Nicky, quit his post as Kilkenny manager, admitting that the yell of approval which greeted the announcement of his decision to withdraw Canice at half-time had slashed through him "like a knife through the heart".

And Canice must have been tempted to do likewise, to content himself to just lift a hurl for Conahy and be remembered in time as a lad who fell victim to sour times, no bad player. But fading out never crossed his mind.

"I was just determined to come back here fitter than ever, to show people that my being on this Kilkenny team wasn't anything to do with having relatives in the management," he says, recalling that dismal Sunday 13 months ago.

Kilkenny are limbering through a half-session under observation from the media and clusters of diehards who watch on from the stand. If Brennan sees phantoms in that stand now, if he can still hear the cat-calls and jibes rise from a crowd of 6,000, he hides it well.

"To be honest, I was never really bothered from my own point of view in the long run. If I took these things to heart, what people have said about me, I would not be playing this game anymore.

"It didn't strike me until afterwards what people had said, but the worst aspect of it was that I had family - my own mother - up in the stands, and it is saddening that they had to hear it. Nobody wants to hear their son or daughter abused like that."

He and Nicky still talk Kilkenny hurling nearly every day, and his brother has managed to look back on his time in charge of the county hurlers without undue anger. In hindsight, he came to the fore at a bad time, heading a team hindered by injuries and a paucity of luck.

"Thing was, when Nicky was there, he was just another manager to me. If I was to start regarding him as a brother, it just wouldn't work."

Kilkenny's promise flared briefly against Galway, and although they ran Clare hard in last year's All-Ireland semi-final, budding optimism at ground level abruptly gave way to rancour and Canice, being the manager's brother, was the target for frequent, catapulted verbal attacks.

"I think that's what it was, yeah, just that Nicky was my brother. But with time, I just forgot about it and got on with the business of hurling."

Brennan was never a come-lately figure. He served his time on the bench as Kilkenny stormed to a second successive All-Ireland in 1993, and, as the older veterans slunk off towards the sunset, Brennan shouldered his way into contention. His has been a nomadic existence; he has journeyed around centrefield and enrolled for a career with the highly-vaunted forwards before finally earning settlement rights at centre-half back.

"I suppose I have been Mr Versatile over the past few years. This is the first time I've played in one spot for so long and I am glad it's working out. I did play in this position at minor level against Cork in 1990, during a replay which we won, but between then and now I spent a lot of time with the forwards."

But Kevin Fennelly read deeply into his game and handed him the number six jersey at the beginning of the championship when Kilkenny headed to Parnell Park, supposedly lame and winter weary, all but flapping at the buzzards.

"Looking back, that was a tough game in that we had been written off and Dublin were hurling well. But Kilkenny are simply difficult to beat in the championship, and so they proved over that game. That's when things began to click, really."

Their progression through the championship has been as inexorable as it has been low-key; it's as though they swiped a pass and gatecrashed a party they just weren't supposed to feature at.

"Yeah, it's my first All-Ireland and it has taken five years to get here, so we are looking forward to it. I think this is perhaps the most settled we have been since 1993. I suppose we have had the quieter path through, all the controversy has been on the other side. That has been nice, but Offaly have had great match practice in their approach, they were brilliant against Clare and have that advantage on us now. I'd say they are about 10 points a better side than the one we beat in the Leinster final."

Brennan matched up against John Troy that day, and grins wryly at the memory of the mercurial Lusmagh marksman.

"Well, he got about 1-2 off me that day, so I'll need to keep an eye on him. But he seems to have gone off a bit of late, so I dunno who will be there, maybe Joe Errity. To be honest, I don't really concentrate or build up towards marking an individual player simply because they can be switched. I'll know who I've got at around 3.30 on match day and that's good enough."

Despite his hour on Troy, he has drawn more compliments as the days shortened and the championship grew serious, fronting a miserly and hungry defence. Occasionally, his past life as an attacker betrays him, prompting him to clear from the ground as opposed to gathering and delivering measured ball. And, for a central player, he tends to favour his left side. But through fitness and intelligence he has rendered the heart of the Kilkenny defence a closed avenue all summer.

"I'm enjoying my game and it's great for me to be able to play in front of players like Pat O'Neill. He is tremendously encouraging, you are always aware of his presence, and Willie O'Connor is just in fantastic form at the moment. I think he is probably the best back in the country at this time."

Brennan is of Army stock, a family tradition, and is preparing for his first tour of Lebanon at the end of October. Discipline, moral courage, pushed him through the bad times of last August, and although he had a gut instinct that he would come back, he could not have guessed that the turnaround could be so complete.

"It's a terrific feeling, preparing for an All-Ireland final now. It's the kind of thing you enjoy, but you don't get too flustered by it or anything. I mean, there is a lot of hype, but at the end of the day it's still just a 70 minute game. And Croke Park is like a second home to us. We overcame Waterford there in the last game and it can't get much noisier than that."

All the Brennans will be in Croke Park tomorrow, lost among the Kilkenny crowd, shouting for Canice. Nicky has readily declared his delight that the kid brother has shown his mettle, and is quietly elated that he has stuffed it to the wizards behind the wire in his own unassuming way.

Maybe Canice feels the same, but not for him the cheap thrill of throwing old slurs back at unknown faces. He prefers just to stand politely chatting in the wintry close of an evening. And when the questions stop, he flits gratefully back to his hurling.