Many will have a new manager. Some clubs will have a few new faces up from the minors. Some in Dublin will have six new county players from Laois who are no good anyway, so it is an opportunity to introduce them to the few remaining home grown players, since they already know most of the failed county players from Laois who already play there. For them, its a nice racket, usually involving free digs, bills paid and a few hundred euro in the pocket.

That first meeting is useful for sorting out all those irksome little contractual details, for example, how many league matches they are expected to play during the year before qualifying for the annual bonus. It is at this time that they also receive their official titles for example, Head of Juvenile Coaching, or Skills Co-ordinator.
For the rest of us, that first meeting is something to really look forward to, being as it is, a time to get back in the saddle, dream of Championship glories and imagine epic feats to come.

The Kevin Lynches hurlers (we haven't gone away you know, Nelson!) congregated on Tuesday night to get their starters orders from my old neighbour and new manager, Davy 'Harry' McCloskey. He has a hard act to follow in John Angelo Mullan and with the club having annexed Derry hurling, the aim is to kick on and win that magical Ulster title, something that has remained agonisingly out of reach. You can look, but you can't touch.

According to sources in the town, Davy has started his reign most auspiciously, delivering a stirring speech that was very warmly received by the lads. He started with the perennial warning that players must attend all sessions and matches on time. "If I can be there on time, and me with a wife, two wains, 97 sheep and 12 cows, then you boys can!"

I have always enjoyed January. It is the most democratic month of the GAA year, since every man believes this is the year he will finally hit the heights. The training is always packed out. In semi-darkness, in the muck, training games are played where the standard is levelled out and anything seems possible.

The reserve team corner back, slightly pot bellied, stands under the shower triumphant, thinking to himself "I held Stevie McDonnell scoreless." A man looks at himself in the mirror before training and in the style of Alan Partridge, growls like a tiger before repeating the mantra "I will get that corner forward spot."

The first night back holds infinite promise. The boots are brought out from the bottom of the bag, untouched and unseen since October, frozen solid with caked muck, toes curled stiffly upwards like Rumpelstiltskins'. Some of the lads' boots are so stiff they might have been bronzed, cue five minutes in the shower softening the leather. Then, you hear the whistle blowing for the warm up, and as you tie the last lace, it snaps!

When I started out, the soft flesh and the January belly was the norm. The first few sessions were only slightly above jogging pace. Quite a few of the lads on the team, our Eunan, Cathal Kelly and others stopped at regular intervals to have a smoke with the manager!

The off-season really was off. Now, it is transformed. I met a group of the St. Brigid's lads in the PEC before Christmas (I was picking my son up from swimming) and they were earnestly making the point that it was the best time of the year to get some serious weight training in. The language of football has changed. The new year rhetoric used to be all about giving up the drink ("No man will begrudge you a few pints, but I don't want to see any of you boys staggering round the town after midnight and no fighting for f.....s sake") and the pre-season training was mostly long runs and shuttle sprints.

In the mid-80's, the Dungiven lads who were on the Derry team told us that the night before they had been doing laps of the pitch holding cement blocks at arm's length. Fergal McCusker told me his arms were so exhausted after half a lap he dived into the dug-out and lay down out of sight. Meanwhile, big McGilligan and Plunkett Murphy were prancing around the field, lap after lap, chatting and laughing.

Now it is about fitness and conditioning, core stability, strength and speed, plyometrics, nutrition, pilates.

The training programmes are drafted not for pre-season, but spanning the entire year. Alcohol isn't mentioned, since the days of lads turning up with hangovers or not turning up at all are gone. Are these changes for the good? I don't know.

One thing is for sure though, the Dungiven hurlers are in good hands.