Opposite the bar, there's a single photograph of six Kerry players from six different decades, each bedecked in the jersey of their own era. Lineage is appreciated in places like this.

It's possible to walk into O'Brien's on any given day at any hour you wish and find a congregation discussing the state of football in the county.

Jimmy himself speaks of the game with the same quiet passion that a Bishop normally preserves for topics of a biblical nature. On days when Kerry play at the top of the street at Fitzgerald's Stadium, the bar is a heaving crush of bodies. The local football wits are normally nowhere to be seen on these occasions.

Crowds and conversation don't make for easy bedfellows.

Before he nosed for Croke Park, one of Paidi O Se's famous piseogs was to pay O'Brien's a visit to purchase a pair of green gloves from Jimmy's sports shop upstairs.

O Se and Paudie Lynch would stand at the corner of the counter and slip Jimmy a nugget of information on how the team would line out on the Sunday. Sometimes they'd throw in a Kerry tactic or two.

And so Jimmy would always have the inside line for his regulars on the lead in to the big game.

On Monday evening the wise sages of O'Brien's were at the bar as the Kerry bus moved from Tralee and headed to Killarney. It was business as usual at the bar. When the bus took a right at the roundabout by O'Brien's, a light rain began to spit. Winter was coming but the short days would pass easier. Sam Maguire was back for the year.

In the warmth of O'Brien's and for the rest of the week, the sages deliberated on the questions of Sunday. Who would leave, who would stay?

Did this Kerry performance rank with the best?

At the bar on Wednesday evening, somebody said Weeshie Fogarty, Radio Kerry's supreme football historian, had elevated Seamus Moynihan to the rank of second-best footballer ever.

Nobody argued. Everybody agreed he was the key to Kerry's success.

He had a hand on the ball on average once every two minutes. His ability to keep going at a whirlwind pace, they suggested, was down to the rest he took from the early stages of the league. It was noted that shortly after the game, Moynihan's gut feeling was he had played his last on the turf of Croke Park. Several pints were raised in his honour.

There were other reasons for Kerry's victory besides the Glenflesk man, of course.

Mayo play short little stabs of passes out of defence. Only four times in the whole game did they kick the ball inside their own 45-metre line. Kerry pounced on this tactic and hassled Mayo with great intensity when they had deep possession.

And, like it or not, tradition and past meetings played a part in Sunday. Mikey Sheehy wondered whether it was clever of Liam McHale to tell RTE the night before the game that he couldn't see Mayo beating Kerry. Sheehy thought of those Mayo players who would be tuning in to the pre-match banter and pondered whether it would serve them well to hear one of their own write them off.

Due to Jack O'Connor's team selection, it was predicted that the people of Killarney would be transformed into a lynching mob should Kerry fail to win. Rumours of dissent trailed after the team for the entire championship though, and after the loss in Cork the team sat down and decided they had two choices.

They turned their backs on the highway and followed O'Connor.

When the manager who took the flack addressed the good folk of Killarney, he was received with courtesy as he spoke with pride. Then the formalities ended and the following day the cup would head for the south of the county, toward the manager and captain's lands.

It's the first time since 1959 that a man from South Kerry led the county to an All Ireland. Aside from the great performance from Sean Murphy, that particular final was noted for the disappearance of the Sam Maguire.

Mick O'Connell, Kerry captain and, although a nondrinker, a frequenter of Jimmy O'Brien's, was substituted early on with an injury. Having collected the cup, his team went for the dressing room and left with thoughts of celebration running through their minds. But O'Connell in his own unique way, was more concerned with other matters. He was dashing to Heuston Station to catch the last train home to Kerry. He never thought to bring the cup and in the bedlam that followed, nobody else did either. It lay on the dressing room table for a few lonely hours before somebody noticed it was missing.

Given the turbulence over his selection and captaincy, Declan O'Sullivan is unlikely to leave the same silverware out of his sight.

In Kerry this week, the story mill finally ceased. Order restored, it was time to relax.

Players smiled and flashbulbs popped.

Jimmy O'Brien will have some more images to frame and place on his wall of history.