When Karl O'Dwyer was withdrawn from the Kildare team to face Offaly in the Leinster semifinal, the dismay of the all-white fans was very much in evidence. In a county famed for its erratic forward play, O'Dwyer's presence was soothing. Not as fast nor as rawly athletic as some of his companions, he was nonetheless a nerveless sharp-shooter, an astute game reader, a settling force in attack.

In just two short years, he had gone from being a wary interloper to an essential element of whatever it is makes Kildare tick. It says a lot about O'Dwyer's strength of personality that since switching from Kerry to Kildare three seasons ago he has sought to alter initial impressions only through his football.

Hope was not a commodity in abundance at the outset of the 1998 National League. Kildare had drawn the short straw during a three-game Leinster semi-final epic with Meath the previous year, falling eventually by a point and reinforcing the accusatory views of those who suggested the Lily-whites lacked the requisite moral courage.

O'Dwyer's arrival in the county, to take up a teaching job in Rathangan, drew wry looks after he began training with the county panel. Revered as Mick O'Dwyer was around the county, this move raised eyebrows. His son trained hard, oblivious to whatever frostiness might have existed.

"I got a job in Kildare and if I was going to get my chance, it was up to myself. That's what he said. Here I am," was the younger O'Dwyer's forthright explanation then, and he has not seen fit to elaborate since. an O'Donoghue in 1998.

Although he has never really spoken about it, O'Dwyer must have felt a lot of trepidation in the days before his first Kildare session. By the mid 1990s his Kerry career had simply fizzled out, suffering during a tumultuous period for the county. He endured a fitful Munster final in 1992 before being replaced by the great Ambrose O'Donovan - Clare still famously scalped their illustrious neighbours that day - and he also had an unhappy hour a year later when Cork came through to the final.

Given his lineage, O'Dwyer came under relentless scrutiny in Kerry and when he began wearing the Kildare white in 1998, he faced the inevitable jibes that he couldn't cut it down south. All the time, O'Dwyer said nothing, his expression inscrutable, his game steadily ascendant.

It is unlikely that a player of such fortitude would ever have required an afternoon of symbolic redemption but it occurred anyway.

Having journeyed impressively and emotionally through Leinster in 1998, felling Dublin and Meath along the way, Kildare faced Kerry in the All-Ireland semi-final. O'Dwyer came face to face with so many players he knew from his club days and his time with the county. In the stands, tens of thousands of Kerry fans eyed him carefully, anxious to confirm that his slipping through the net was no serious loss. O'Dwyer left a thought-provoking imprint.

With Maurice Fitzgerald struggling for Kerry, the Waterville man stepped forward and blasted two frees from distance, adding another from play. He hit three of Kildare's 13 points and the champions were out.

Against Galway in the All-Ireland final, he thrived during Kildare's purple patch, popping over two points at the close of the half. But with Galway rampant in the second half, he was forced to spectate and could do little to prevent the Sam Maguire rolling west. Still, a fine season was capped with an All Star. After watching the team fall flat last summer, the management used last season's league to experiment liberally, and despite uneven results O'Dwyer's play was consistently sharp.

In this year's championship his introduction against Dublin, just before half-time of this month's replay, marked his return from the meddlesome finger injury. But while he contributed usefully, he needed the game just to find his feet again. Now he is restored to the starting line-up for a match with the same line-up as in the 1998 All-Ireland final.

It is the kind of stage on which O'Dwyer could calmly poach the memorable lines.