SHUFFLING in his office chair at the Ulster Bank branch in Cork, bound in a shirt and tie, Seán Óg Ó hAilpín strives to explain the forces that shaped him. "My parents are competitive," he admits, jab-lifting a childhood memory to corroborate the claim. He recounts the day he arrived home from a school sports event to inform his father he'd finished second in the 100m race.

A quick reconstruction of the dialogue that followed:

'How come?'

'The other guy was faster.'

'Why didn't you come first? Did you train for it?'

'I did.'

'Not hard enough, obviously.'

In case you have an impression of obsessive parents driving their kids relentlessly, he moves quickly to dispel the notion. "Ah, Dad has mellowed out big time. They wanted us to be competitive, to get the best out of ourselves. It wasn't them giving out."

We're about to move to another topic but he's not finished. He is highly competitive. There's more to it. Though he left Sydney at 11, it also played a part. "I remember playing rugby league in primary school. Looking back, I had a coach in the rugby leagues and I'd say Ger Loughnane wouldn't lace this fella's boots. I grew up in that kind of place. I did cross country, rugby league, it was very competitive; you don't see that same competitiveness in Ireland."

You think of Seán Óg and what comes first: the athlete or the hurler? Impure thoughts. Last year he received the ultimate individual accolade, Hurler of the Year, joining the hallowed ranks occupied by some of the greatest players the game has ever known. He isn't a fool though and knows his appeal is more holistic. He's not the most skilful hurler in the Cork half back line, let alone the country, but there is so much more to being a top-drawer player. He's a victory for substance over style.

With dedicated husbandry he has maximized every portion of his talents. When he came to Cork with his family at 11 he began playing Gaelic football at Na Piarsaigh which he got a handle on quickly. But hurling was different, more exotic; he stepped back, he didn't want to look silly. One day when football had finished for the summer he grew restless and pulled a spare hurl out of a bag. He can see it still: no tape, no grip, part of the bás missing. He took a swing and they told him that, at Na Piarsaigh, they trained "hurlers, not golfers." It began there. "I'm not saying it was easy, Jesus it took a good while, but hurling gives me more satisfaction than any other sport because I had to work hard at it. And I appreciate that more."

By the time he was 17 he had made the Cork minor hurling team, his confidence bolstered through formative years at North Mon where he found himself marking players from some of the top schools, lads who were breaking on to county minor teams or on the verge. He found he could subdue them and every victory fuelled his powerful drive to succeed.

His two younger brothers have followed the professional path and he would have too had he been in their boots

It doesn't come as a huge surprise to learn that he's close to Donal Óg Cusack, a highly-motivated figure like himself. Insights into Cusack's obsessive nature are contained in Christy O'Connor's excellent book, Last Man Standing, revealing long and lonely hours spent preparing for the hurling season. Seán Óg beams at the mere mention of his name.

"He's a pro, that guy's a pro. We have other guys on the team, they'd like to be pros but they're not. I have great time for that kid. I like to see myself as a Donal Óg as well, he literally wants to get every last ounce out of himself before he retires and I respect guys like that because there's nothing worse than finishing up your playing days and thinking; Jesus, if I had done that. You have to look in the mirror. And that guy - he's a freak. I've great time for him."

You're as dedicated as him? "No. And I like to see myself as dedicated. He's a leader like. We all look up to him. I was making this comparison: Donal Óg not involved in the Cork set-up is like Nelson Mandela not being in South Africa. And last year Na Piarsaigh played Cloyne in a county final and if they'd won he'd have been captain. It was nice for me to win and I was delighted to be captain, but if they'd have won he'd have been captain. Ideal."

His two younger brothers, Setanta and Aisake, have followed the professional path and he would have too had he been in their boots. He's a professional in an amateur production. During what he calls the "off-season," the winter spell of least activity, he hardly skips a day's training. It doesn't feel a chore or an imposition, but something natural and fulfilling.

"My own view is that I think you tend to get more rewarded with the extra effort you put in. I enjoy it. I think Donal Óg enjoys it. I don't think he does it because he has to do it. He enjoys it. When he talks about it he doesn't talk about it like it's a chip on his shoulder. You talk to some guys, (weary voice) 'I've to go to the gym now.' I enjoy it. Then again you have to realise, for the likes of myself, Joe (Deane), Donal Óg, Diarmuid (O'Sullivan), we don't have that many years left at this.

"That's why their dedication over the years has increased because they know that their time, I wouldn't say it's near, but we're not 21. I think they want to get as much as they can out of it and then move on to their next life."

What would take him away from where he is now? Would anything? Money? Girls? A nice languid beach?

There are players who lament what they're missing, the pleasures of ordinary life. Not him. He has been a senior hurler with Cork since they got hammered by Limerick in 1996. That's his life, his life of choice.

"I've grown up with the attitude that my holidays are Thurles, Páirc UÍ Chaoimh, those are my holidays. I couldn't think of any other place to spend it but those places on big match day. And I don't mind that. Others guys, it probably pisses them off a small bit, but it doesn't piss me off."

He says the young players coming into the Cork squad now are "good, solid guys" unlike some of their predecessors. "That's what we need, we need a culture of those guys coming in. Whereas before, when I started off, we had guys coming in who were good, but you got the feeling that when they made the Cork team that was enough, to wear the jersey was enough."

Four years ago, aged 24, his career nearly ended. Three days before they were to play Limerick in the Munster championship, he had an engagement with sponsors in Dublin. He shakes his head now because there's no way it would happen today. His father advised him to take the train. He wanted to drive because they were training that evening.

On the way back, in plenty of time, he called into a friend of his father's in Templemore who had been in an accident. They made him dinner. They talked. He looked at his watch. He looked again. He was late. He rushed off and somewhere between Templemore and Thurles he overtook a car and ran into another car coming in the opposite direction.

He looked down at his right leg and saw a lump on his thigh, not realising it was his knee which had been severed and shunted upwards

The car he hit was being driven by a man transporting youths from a local soccer match. One had concussion, but to his enormous relief, the rest were alright. He looked down at his right leg and saw a lump on his thigh, not realising it was his knee which had been severed and shunted upwards by the force of the collision.

"It was the 24th of May 2001. I thought after the accident that if Cork beat Limerick I'd be back for the next match, but I didn't realise the seriousness of the injury. My knee was blown out of position and it shot up my thigh. To be honest my knee was the least of my worries, there was a full load in that car. The guy came over, wedged my door open and asked was I OK and said, 'ah you're not Seán Óg from Cork are you? Don't you have a match?' I says, 'not by looking at me leg.' They helped me over to the ditch, he had a right to kick the shit out of me. But he helped me out."

He was taken to hospital in Nenagh. Contact was made with the Cork manager Tom Cashman and he alerted Dr Con Murphy who arranged to have him moved to Cork and operated on right away. Dr Con realised how grave the injury was, and how eager the patient's desire to hear better news. He remembers exactly what Dr Con told him: 'That's a serious injury Seán Óg; not many people come back, but you'll come back.'

Jim McEvoy, the Cork masseur and a close friend of Seán Óg, worked with Gerard Hartmann in London and set up a meeting once Hartmann was back in Limerick. He was back hurling by the end of the 2002 league and it wouldn't have been possible but for Hartmann's work. Hartmann warned him it would only work if he put in the time and was patient. There was no fear of the first requirement at least. Hours were spent hopping on one leg up and down the stairs and in the pool. When the cast came off after three months he'd put two bags of sugar on the leg and use them as weights to build up the worn muscle.

"It was monotonous, it was boring, but I'm delighted that I got an opportunity to meet him (Hartmann), he's an amazing guy. Okay I would like to have met him in different circumstances. But the one thing I have learned from my experiences is that bad luck might happen to you in some way, God might give you that, but in ways he's given other people great talents to get you back.

"To be honest, I was considered gone. I think word got out that I would not come back from that injury. There was great personal satisfaction I got out of that. OK, my 2002 year was shocking when I got back, probably the worst year I put in with Cork ever. But Ger said you've got to be patient."

Hurler of the Year is reward for that as well. "Like, to be honest, any individual award I got over the years, maybe I have just grown accustomed to it, but I don't look back and dwell. And I grew up in a culture that said no matter what you do, you can always do a small bit better. When I got that last year it was very nice. At times you need a bit of luck, a couple of others could have got it, Ronan Curran, JJ Delaney, Dan Shanahan could have got it. This year I've tried to forget about that and just continue to be the best I can."

With it comes pressure and bigger expectations. "Unbelievable. I've found it hard to cope with that this year, that's being honest with you. I do admit that I probably wouldn't lace the boots of previous winners in terms of hurling ability. DJ, Brian Corcoran - they're fucking phenomenal. As hurlers they're phenomenal. I'd like to feel I got it more on hard work than natural hurling ability. I've really, really applied myself in the last two years and I like to feel that that was a pay-back. And especially on the hurling side of things where, previously, I probably concentrated more on my physical condition than my hurling. And I did really work hard on my hurling. I realised my hurling limitations and that I had to work on them, which I did."

He says Donal O'Grady's coaching helped his game to prosper. "Previous coaches I had, I would like to thank them in some way for my hurling development, but Donal was the first real . . . Donal's the kind of guy who could be employed with the Miami Dolphins as a coach.

"Donal reinforced the basics we'd learned at underage, but perfected them more. We neglected that stuff for years. You are not looking for a 30 per cent increase, you're looking for three or four per cent from everyone and as a whole then it reflects. And Donal loves those one or two percentage points."

'I do admit Clare should have won the last day. We were lucky to have got out of it'

He accepts that John Allen wasn't an obvious replacement when O'Grady left with an All-Ireland behind him and a bunch of orphaned hurlers. Allen was quieter, less of a 'name', but in their last match against Clare two substitutions altered the public perception of Allen as well as the course of the game. "It was a big call by John, taking off two of our best players, probably the best player I have ever played with - ever - Brian Corcoran, and Ronan Curran, who has been one of our most consistent performers over the last two years. It was a statement for the rest of the team - you will probably be following suit if you don't pull up your socks here.

"In years gone by I know that previous managers were loyal towards their big guns, hoping that they'd get through a bad patch. I know (Donal) O'Grady wouldn't have done it, he was very loyal to the team he picked and in ways he got criticised for not making switches early. After 2003, when we lost to Kilkenny, people were saying he didn't make that switch and this switch. John went the opposite way.

"John doesn't want to be remembered as a guy who worked under Donal O'Grady, and I think that move defined John in ways. I think Loughnane said on the television, someone was telling me, that John came out of the shadow of Donal O'Grady. He couldn't have put it better."

He will become part of Cork legend if he lifts the McCarthy Cup next Sunday. His brother Aisake hopes to be home from Melbourne. Setanta's season is prolonged by play-off matches so he may not make it. All the rest should be there. Imagine what it must mean to a family to watch a son lift the McCarthy Cup.

Whatever happens he'll hurl on. "I reckon on the last day I hurl I'll have put so much into the game that I'll kinda feel I'll have done my time. I'll want out. I don't see myself in coaching or management. I just want to do everything I possibly and physically can while I'm playing. Then I can concentrate on stuff that, and I don't talk with bitterness, stuff that I haven't enjoyed over the last 10 years. I'm the eldest of my family. I like all my brothers and sisters. I remember when I started played hurling my youngest sister, she was nine; now I see her she's 17, 18, she's with her boyfriend now, she's grown up - like, fucking hell! And that's what happens. And I want to spend time after my hurling days doing stuff I never got a great chance to do. Because my young sister will probably go to college and then she's on her own and it's kind of sad, stuff like that."

What's the reward, how can he define it? He pauses. "Personal satisfaction. It's great to win medals, it's great to win an All-Ireland. Many people not privileged to be in the same position would give their two arms to win one. Winning is good, but say if you're part of an All-Ireland set-up it's the personal satisfaction you get out of it. And it makes hard training easier because you know the rewards are there."

Cork's form, he accepts, has been erratic. "This time last year we were stream-rolling towards the final. This year we've just got over the second last hurdle, I do admit Clare should have won the last day. We were lucky to have got out of it. I wouldn't say it's (a lack of) hunger. Basically it's the opposition we're playing, they're more keyed up. We did extremely well to get out of it. I've played on previous teams that would never have got out of it. We feel we're up there to be knocked. Galway are in the same position we were in last year. And what we have to do is to cope and match them for hunger."

His own form has dipped he feels. "With success comes pressure from outside and within yourself. You feel because you've won Hurler of the Year that you cannot play a bad game or whatever. I've tried to be as good as I can, but I would have to admit that my form is nowhere near last year. I've tried to be as competitive."

That hardly needs to be said. Cork are blessed to have him.