Here comes the summer. Forget your multiple sendings off, your disputed goals and your glitzy launches - the GAA season proper starts next Sunday when the tribal rivalry of the Ulster Championship is resumed for another year of thrills, spills and sneaky off-the-ball blows. Monaghan and Fermanagh are first up at Clones in five days' time and to capture the mood of tingling anticipation this is the Out of the North unofficial form guide for the goriest of sporting spectaculars.

Antrim

A is for Antrim and this alphabetical accident is received with boundless joy by the county's Gaelic footballers because it is the only time they are ever first in anything. Antrim have not won an Ulster championship match, never mind a title, since God was a boy and with admirable consistency they show no signs of bucking that trend. But the situation is not completely hopeless. The county's major contribution to the wider GAA family has been to demonstrate just how destructive thinly-veiled antagonism between a big city and its country hinterland can be. On No Account Ask: Sure, isn't it the taking part that counts?

Armagh

If Ulster Championships were awarded for optimism and enthusiasm Armagh would be the team of this and just about any other decade. The 1977 All-Ireland final is the game that dare not speak its name in the county and successive vintages of players seem haunted by the spectre of underachievement. Crossmaglen are the pre-eminent club side of the 1990s, but no-one has yet managed to graft their ability, application and winner's mentality on to the county team. But with Armagh you can at least be sure of one thing - you'll hear their supporters before you see them.

On No Account Ask: You lost, but do you think you played the better football out there?

Cavan

The Blackburn Rovers of Ulster football. Like Jack Walker's unfortunates, Cavan too have only one championship this decade to show for all their efforts. With their rich heritage and lineage, the county views itself as Ulster football's royal family, but like the English House of Windsor Cavan football is having to adapt to changing times. One thing, though, has remained constant - player power. Long before it became one of the GAA's 1990s buzzwords, the good men of Cavan knew how to put a lowly manager in his place. Liam Austin was the latest recipient, and whether new man Val Andrews fares any better remains to be seen.

On No Account Ask: So, is the manager's job is safe for another year?

DERRY

When Dallas went to the great soap-opera in the sky in 1980s, the big concern was whether any tale of in-fighting, bitter disputes and reconciliations could ever grip the Irish imagination in the same way. Nobody should have worried because the footballers of Derry have assumed the mantle in fine style over the intervening years with more fall-outs than JR and Sue Ellen. All-Ireland success, managerial sackings, player strikes and interclub bust-ups have all become part of the rich tapestry of football in the county. In that context, the most recent incident at a club match involving at least three senior players must be strangely reassuring. The rest of the province should start to get worried if they manage to channel half that energy in the right direction. On No Account Ask: Why can't you all just sit down and talk this through?

Donegal

When George Orwell dreamt up Double-Speak, he must have been thinking of Donegal. Everything they tell about their Championship preparations in those lilting, butter-wouldn't-melt voices is wrong. When they say "Arrah, there have been very few at training and we haven't done enough physical work" this usually means they have been flat-out since last August with a committed panel of 64 who think nothing of three-day treks around the county's coastline. Look into their eyes and all you see is cuteness. The way they sneaked an All-Ireland in 1992 after the worst semi-final in living memory should have taught everyone a lesson.

On No Account Ask: Can you be honest about your ambitions for this summer?

Down

Ulster's aristocrats. When it comes to football, Down people are just as wise as knowing as those in Donegal - the only difference is nobody is fooled any more. Even in a poor year (and all the indications are that this could be one of those) Down could send out 10 half-fit players, three women drafted in from the county camogie side and two under-10 corner forwards and still mount a credible challenge for the provincial football title. Even that line-up would be enough for them to sleepwalk through their opening game against Antrim and if they get up any head of steam at all their thoroughbred pedigree could yet be a factor.

On No Account Ask: Are you worried about your poor record at Croke Park?

Fermanagh

More hard luck stories than Jimmy White. With an embarrassment of riches in the forward line, Fermanagh's famine can only be attributed to a lack of steel elsewhere on the field. A succession of the county's recent managers must sit mistyeyed dreaming of what might have been, such has been Fermanagh's misfortune in recent years. There are few counties blessed with as friendly and as articulate a squad of players, but for all the talent at their disposal they have not yet learnt how to win. Surely they won't always be the nearly men.

On No Account Ask: Just how many Ulster senior titles have you won?

Monaghan

Ulster's great corner back factory. If it's rough and tumble, agricultural defenders you need, this is the county for you. Light and nimble visiting corner forwards are treated with cursory disdain as they are sent six feet into the air in the opening minutes of a Championship match. And it's even less pretty when they've actually got the ball. Unfortunately this attention to detail is not replicated in other parts of the field and the glory days of the 1980s are as far away as ever.

On No Account Ask: Do you think we should have another look at the tackle in Gaelic football?

Tyrone

Eerily quiet. In marked contrast to their Derry neighbours, Tyrone have tip-toed through their Championship preparations with barely a whisper or a murmur. For a county that likes to make life as difficult as possible for itself, this usually means that some flare-up or other is just around the corner. After the All-Ireland final of 1995 and the semi-final of 1996 a sense of injustice courses through Tyrone blood and the chip on either shoulder makes their supporters the most balanced in the province.

On No Account Ask: Hasn't the time come to drop Peter Canavan?