SIDELINE CUT:Don't believe the lie that history will have no bearing on tomorrow's game, Kerry's tradition bleeds too strong, writes KEITH DUGGAN

SO MAYBE it’s true after all: nostalgia ain’t what it used to be. For the first time in over a quarter of a century, an Irish September will be graced with a Dublin versus Kerry All-Ireland football final and all week, the protagonists are echoing old Henry Ford and declaring that history is bunk.

The big lie of this week is that the old games – when the footballers were brawnier and, much like Ireland herself, slower and the crowd was not so polished, and Michael O’Hehir was calling the shots in that snappy tone of his – have no relevance in the year 2011. Don’t believe a word of it.

A good few years ago in Doyle’s pub, the late Seán Kilfeather told the story of wandering down to Heuston Station on the Monday after some Kerry All-Ireland final victory or other to grab a few words with the victorious players. Instead, it was the Kerry men who did the grabbing, bundling the Irish Times man into the train just as the whistle went and holding him captive all the way to Kerry.

As Kilfeather admitted, he didn’t exactly put up much of a fight. He was, after all, heading into the heartland of football and enjoying the best stout that Córas Iompair Éireann had to offer as the train spluttered through the darkening midlands and the big silver cup sat on the table.

It often seemed to me that the tale captured the essence of what these All-Ireland weekends mean to Kerry. They are as swift and nimble as the Vikings in the way they come to the capital on autumn raids, gathering in the same taverns and having breakfast in the same greasy spoons and knowing all the secret parking spots near Croke Park, winning the match and then hurrying south for a contented winter. They have this ritual down.

In the early days of the GAA, Kerry men could hardly have known they were about to establish a tradition of excellence against which their sons and grandsons would be helpless. Playing for Kerry is not enough and winning a mere All-Ireland is not enough: grabbing as many medals as you can for as long as you wear those green and gold hoops is what matters.

There is no way the competitive blood thirstiness needed to keep on winning is not passed on through what has gone before. It does not matter that most of the players who will line out tomorrow were not born when Kerry last played Dublin, just as it doesn’t matter that it’s been a while since The Beatles last played together. The music lives.

The last decade has been a strange one for Kerry football, lit with brilliant flourishes but dogged by a vague feeling of incompletion. Early in the second half of the 2002 All-Ireland final against Armagh, Liam Hassett scored a fine point into the Canal End and raised an arm in triumph. That score put the Kingdom three points up and they looked set to complete an all-too familiar script.

Although it is impossible to prove it, there was a palpable sense that the Kerry team – and the crowd – relaxed in the seconds afterwards and settled back for the inevitable fade-out by the Northern team and the procession to victory.

Instead, Armagh bucked and football history went psychedelic for a while. A year later, Páidí Ó Sé looked on in consternation as his Kerry players found themselves buffeted around on a sea-storm of Tyrone indignation and aggression. But would the Tyrone men have played with such belief and purpose had they not watched their neighbours from Armagh sweeping the land the previous season? Did they not feed on their neighbours’ illustration that these All-Ireland championships were not predestined?

After that notorious All-Ireland semi-final, Kerry responded with a measure of honesty and a willingness to adapt that was admirable. They played so well in the All-Ireland finals of 2004 and 2006 is arguable that no team could have lived with them, but the disappointing performances of Mayo on both those occasions muted the thrill for Kerry people.

And against those wins came the crushing disappointment of the All-Ireland final defeats to Tyrone in 2005 and 2008. If Kerry have been a model of reliable excellence since 2000, then Tyrone were the masters of a precocious brilliance and that they won those days out rankled.

The consolation of defeating Cork, the local enemy in the All-Ireland finals of 2007 and 2009 was something but that first final turned into a parade for Kerry and the second was hard-fought but comfortable. There has been no epic September win.

And so, at last Kerry are preparing for an All-Ireland final against Dublin. Just as Kilkenny’s All-Ireland win against Tipperary a fortnight ago seemed to weigh more than most victories, a win for Kerry tomorrow would surely silence a lot of tongues.

It is a riveting proposition: a Kerry team perceived as rich in medals and experience but also in age against a young and teak-tough Dublin team.

It promises to be a clash in more than colours. And it belongs to a tradition. Jack O’Connor may not deliberately sit down and talk with his players about the significance of playing Dublin. But then he doesn’t really have to. The mythology of those games of the 1970s is unavoidable, particularly if you live in Kerry. They breathe in the anecdotes told a thousand times, they are framed in black and white stills in almost every bar room in the county, they are evident in the smiling, familiar faces with the greying hair who will reminisce on Up For The Match this evening.

Any Kerry side playing in an All-Ireland final faces two opponents: the team on the field and the reputation of those Kerry teams that have gone before. Escaping the legacy left by O’Dwyer and Páidí and Jack O’ and Pat has been no easy thing.

So much hinges on this game. If Kerry win, then they have extended the Kingdom’s record in what is the definitive meeting of football nobility. But if they lose against Dublin, it will leave an indelible stain on what has been a decade of unrelentingly high standards and glittering performances .

For O’Connor, who has managed his county to three All-Ireland titles despite feeling that the Kerry Past was a private members club, this is a monumental day too. Like most Kerry people of his generation, O’Connor’s imagination was lit by the colours that will fill Croke Park tomorrow.

The best thing about the Kerry team of Tomás Ó Sé – for when you deconstruct any Kerry team since 2000, the wing-back is invariably the irreplaceable part – is they keep coming back. They either beat what was put in front of them or they did not. Usually, they kept their mouths shut either way.

Some year, however, they won’t keep coming back. They are keenly aware of time passing, of medals won and of chances lost. An All-Ireland final against Dublin is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Everything is riding on it.

Soon, it may be time to replace the photographs.