He's not exactly sure. He knows, though, in those bleak minutes after Tyrone had once more claimed Croke Park that something was already changing. Maybe the appetite was leaving him or maybe the legs were stalling.

Maybe both.

The game, he says, has changed since he first pulled on the green and gold in 1995.

There are dieticians now, psychologists, fitness experts.

There are no pints after national league games in February anymore. Give yourself over completely or don't bother even thinking about it, he reckons. Ever since he signed up to the life, that's how he's lived it. All or nothing. He propelled himself into fierce conflicts others would turn their bodies from and he still has the wounds to prove it; bandaged legs, a damaged knee. Once, when his brother was cold-shouldered, he walked away with him. His brother's dismissers could have the two of them or they could have neither. Simple as that.

Lately he's seen the spine of the team change, witnessed the new speed merchants blaze like comets through training sessions. He's heard the hunger to wear the jersey rumble in their bellies. The last year or so, the young lads had an extra yard on him while he was careful of an old niggle here, a strain there.

He'd mind himself at training, but not too much. The manager was watchful and he couldn't rely entirely on experience.

So, the doubts crept up and they snowballed after Tyrone. At first he put it down to All Ireland final blues. Everybody feels low after defeat, right? But this one stung and all winter he was understanding why.

Before he addressed his doubts there were options to weigh up. If he moved from the stage he was giving up on the prospect of a fourth All Ireland medal and the chance to progress up that ladder of immortals. If he shuffled away and his team struck gold this year, would there be regrets?

Since September he wondered and wondered and this week, 10 days before he turned 31, Liam Hassett finally made up his mind. "It's a young man's game, " he says.

"Things have changed even since I started with Kerry 11 years ago. You have to watch what you eat, you can't plan weekends. If we were playing the likes of Tyrone in the league, we'd leave Kerry on Saturday morning, stay in Omagh that night and get back home late on Sunday.

Go to work Monday morning and to the gym that night.

Then training on Tuesday.

It's the same with every other team. The bar has been raised that high and you have to accept it. The bottom line is I wasn't prepared to give the commitment that would justify wearing the Kerry jersey."

The decision to retire didn't come like a bolt of lightening. Six weeks ago Dara O Cinneide, at a similar stage in his life, parted ways with the inter-county set up. There was talk that Hassett and possibly Seamus Moynihan were about to follow the man from An Ghaeltacht.

That Hassett's retirement was met with little surprise reinforces his contention that football has become, as he calls it, a young man's game.

It highlights as well the reserve of talent ready to seep into his old team. Since the northern revolution, his own constituents have come to appreciate his qualities as a footballer and at 31 few would doubt he could contribute positively this season.

Those same supporters who raised eyebrows at his absence from the scoresheet over the years were recently praising his ability to win hard ball and lay it off.

"I suppose the buzz words these days are 'the hardworking forward'. It's all about tracking back and grafting. You see Colm Cooper and Mike Frank working hard and kicking points as well. Getting scores was never my strong point but I was always able to track back and help out. Last year I found it difficult to get back up the field and punish teams, though. It happened in the All Ireland final. On the day, you know, the legs just weren't able to motor. I seemed to be chasing the game the whole day."

When he talks about that day, he speaks honestly of his team and critically of himself. He refers again to hunger and desire."You must have the hunger and that's where we fell short last year. You can talk all you want about tactics but Tyrone had ferocious hunger. Kerry had desire, don't get me wrong, but Tyrone, wellf" In years to come, when he looks back on a sporting life that has so far yielded six All Ireland honours, an evening in early 2005 will stand out.

Kerry were kings and Hassett had the Sam Maguire. He brought the big cup to Cockleshell Road in Tralee, to the place he has called home since he married Katie Dowling. Fifty years earlier, Katie's uncle captained Kerry to a famous victory over Dublin.

John Dowling grew up on this very road and Hassett realised he was part of a lineage that stretched back decades and decades. The return of Sam stoked some memories for the older generation and the kids were wild and bug eyed.

Katie went from house to house, rounded up the youngsters and with Hassett leading them they paraded the Sam Maguire down Cockleshell with the cold foam of Tralee Bay blowing in on them. "It was mighty, " he says. He knows the importance of such things. Growing up in Carragh Lake, just outside Killorglin, there was nothing but football. He recalls his father setting up goalposts in a field beside the house. The only thing that would keep himself and his two brothers away from the field was heavy rain or football on the television.

"I can remember watching the 1986 final on TV, we couldn't get tickets for the game. Pat Spillane scored that fisted goal where he dived through the air. Sure, until Christmas myself, Adrian and Mike were perfecting the Spillane move. We'd ruin our clothes diving in the muck. I'd say my mother, Bridie, was cursing Spillane and his goal."

Ten years later the three brothers were part of a Laune Rangers package that went to Dublin and collected the national club prize. They arrived back at Carragh Lake stronger, tighter. The following year brought more success and some controversy.

Mike Hassett was captain of Kerry in 1997, lifted the national league title in Cork and the Munster cup in Limerick. For the semi-final he was injured and didn't regain his place for the final against Mayo.

At the time, Liam was teaching in Dublin, Mike in Wicklow. They would meet in Kildare and travel to Kerry for training in Mike's white one-litre Corsa. "A great machine, " says Liam. The Wednesday before the final, Mike was called aside at training and it was hinted that he may not start.

"On the drive back he told me what was said to him and, you know, it was the longest journey from Killarney to Dublin. It was a huge kick in the arse to hear he wasn't on the team." Liam, just turned 22, was given the captaincy but he told his brother that all going well, he would be the one to lift Sam Maguire that Sunday evening. "I told him I'd no interest in getting the cup. I wanted to see Mike Hassett lift Sam. After the final whistle, Mike was the first one over jumping on top of me and I said, 'Listen buddy, you're taking it from here'."

Events became confused in the aftermatch haze. Liam was dragged along with the crowd, ushered up the steps of the Hogan Stand and he found himself scanning the faces, looking for his brother.

"I was trying to get Mike up alongside me, but I was young and I didn't have the character to force the issue. Looking back now, it would have been nice if both of us lifted it, like the O'Connor brothers [Ben and Jerry of Cork in 2004]. If I could turn back time that's the only thing I'd change."