`O Reilly and Harrington? You're joking! They won't last a day together - chalk and cheese, John, chalk and cheese. Forget about it."

A smile flashes across the face of John Maunsell as he recounts the warning given to him by a friend, two years ago, about the incompatibility of the caddie and golfer he had just helped pair. He laughs some more when Chalk returns from talking to Cheese on the phone about plans for the start of their third season together.

"We're off to Thailand on January 16th," says John O'Reilly. "Then Australia, back home for two weeks, then off to Dubai and then it all starts back again," he adds, with relish.

"Itchy feet John," asks Maunsell. "Yeah, itchy feet," agrees the grinning caddie. Since he teamed up with Padraig Harrington, in December 1995, O'Reilly hasn't seen much of his local pub, the Fox's Covert in Tallaght, where we met two days before Christmas. "He only missed two cuts all year," he says, winking. `["]`And finished the season eighth in the Order of Merit. "Won the Spanish Open last year and the World Cup last month," he says, shaking his head in disbelief, lifting his pint of Guinness to toast the man he says "is going to go right up to the top".

"As Ben Dunne once said to me, `Johnny, we're the luckiest men in the world, the only difference is I'm a millionaire'." Well, 58-year-old O'Reilly - or Reilly, as this legendary character on the Tour is more commonly known - may not quite be a millionaire yet, but his cut of Harrington's winnings over the last two seasons means he's "doing grand".

"He's a grand kid, a lovely lad," he says of his employer. "I used to call him `Poddy' because I couldn't pronounce Padraig - it took me a few weeks to get used to the name. He used to keep saying to me `my name is Padraig' and I'd say `okay Poddy'," he says laughing. "I rang him to see if I could do this interview, you know, because that's the way I am, he's the boss, and he said `Johnny, no problem'. A grand kid."

So what's this about chalk and cheese? "Yeah, we are chalk and cheese, but I knew that wouldn't be a problem. When we met I said to him `do you have any interest in horses' and he says `no, I don't like horses'. So I said `you don't drink' and he says `no, I don't like drink'. Then I said . . . no, I won't tell you the third part . . . but at the end I just said to him, `I think we'll work it out together alright, we'll be grand'."

Things weren't so grand for O'Reilly before Maunsell and Paul McGinley helped team him up with Harrington. After seven years caddying for Peter Townsend and 14 for Des Smyth, a fall down the steps of the apartment he was staying in, during the 1994 Mediterranean Open in Spain, resulted in a broken wrist and a damaged back - and an end to an uninterrupted two-decade spell of caddying on the European Tour. "I was out of action for two years. I caddied a bit for a few local fellas, like Ben Dunne and John (Maunsell), but I went through a hard time. Darren Clarke, Paul McGinley and Philip Walton looked after me during that time - I'd like you to mention that, they were very good to me. That was the first break from the Tour I'd had in 20 years, it was a tough time." By late 1996, O'Reilly and Harrington, who didn't know each other, were ready for the professional tour: O'Reilly was back to full fitness and needed a golfer who'd earn him "a few bob", Harrington had graduated from the Qualifying School and needed an experienced caddie who'd help him find his feet in the professional ranks. McGinley recommended O'Reilly and Maunsell, a Tallaght Detective who knew Harrington's father Paddy, also a Garda, arranged the meeting. "Essentially, I was looking for experience, I wanted somebody that I wouldn't have to be looking after," said Harrington at the time. He found the right man. O'Reilly is renowned for being `resourceful' and `enterprising', a man with all his wits about him. It's hard to outwit any caddie; it's nigh on impossible to outwit John O'Reilly.

When they met at the Spawell, O'Reilly, who "drives a hard bargain", according to Maunsell, taught the teetotal Harrington the art of buying rounds, secured "a sub of £50" and agreed a seven-week trial, enough time to find out if Chalk and Cheese could put up with each other. Both parties were on trial in those early weeks: Harrington had to be sure his caddie could be relied upon; O'Reilly had to find out if the Tour rookie could make him a living. On the seventh and final week of the trial, in May 1996, the Tour rookie became a Tour champion by winning the Spanish Open, only his ninth senior event. "I'd watched this kid in the weeks leading up to Spain and his workrate and dedication were unbelievable. As long as there was daylight he would practice, he was brilliant. And he'd a brilliant mind. His short game was so good, he was an unbelievable putter - all the guys were talking about him, even Ballesteros said it. He said `Johnny, he doesn't keep it on the fairways, but every time he's on the green, he's in the hole - he's like me when I was his age'. As the weeks went on I said `this kid is going to make it' and everything just fell in to place in Spain." And it's been going very nicely ever since. O'Reilly's travelling the world again and making the best living of his life. Harrington has a caddie whose golfing intuition has played its own part in helping him make a spectacular start to his professional career. When Harrington picked up the biggest cheque of his career, £128,000, when he partnered McGinley to World Cup success in South Carolina last November, O'Reilly's percentage of the winnings meant he returned home to Tallaght with a fivefigure cheque in his luggage. Part of that sum bought his six children their Christmas present - a pony. "Well, they're only kids once, aren't they," he says as he inspects the saddle his eldest child, Stephen (16), is about to bring up to Brittas where the pony is kept. So when did you start caddying? "When I was six - I saw an ad in a paper in Rathmines, looking for caddies in the Castle Golf Club, and myself and my two brothers went up and started caddying.

That was it. It was just pocket money, for the pictures, whatever. We had a large family of 12 so it was just money for us. I knew nothing about golf whatsoever."

"Jesus, would you look who it is," he says, pointing to the skies. I turn around and there before us is an Irish sporting legend. Former rugby international Moss Keane.

"Do you know that fella," Maunsell says to Keane, pointing at O'Reilly.

"Huh, that gangster," Keane laughs.

"How's your golf," asks O'Reilly.

"Oh, it's always better this time of the year because I can eat what I win," says Keane.

"Well you've eaten a few turkeys and hams in your time," says O'Reilly. "Jesus, we could do with him now, couldn't we," he adds, as Keane says goodbye and bids all a Happy Christmas. "Where was I? Oh yeah, the early days."

O'Reilly had caddied for Townsend, the former Ryder Cup golfer, at the 1971 Irish Open in Portmarnock and at the end of the tournament Townsend asked him to join him on the Tour. By then O'Reilly had been sacked after 16 years as a bus conductor with CIE . . . after deciding his passengers should have a free trip home on the last bus one Christmas Eve. The partnership lasted until Townsend's retirement in 1979, by which time Des Smyth was looking for a caddie.

"I'd a great 14 years with Des and had my best ever memory with him in 1988 when he was on the Irish team that won the Dunhill Cup. A great memory.

"After a couple of years you got used to the travelling, it's just like a job," he says. "People say `oh, you're going here, there and everywhere', but it's not like that at all. It's just airports, golf clubs, hotels, airports, every week. You see nothing. We were in Rome and I remember my two sisters saying to me `did you go to the Vatican' and I said `no'. They said `you didn't go to the Vatican' - they're very religious. They couldn't understand that I was in Rome for a week and I didn't see the Vatican, but you don't have time for that.

"The only thing is you see the world, stuff like that, and you meet a lot of nice people, great people. I've great memories, I have. But it is tough. It's non-stop, all the time. You go to bed early - I'd be in bed, at the latest, 10 oclock 'cos you'd be tired and you just have to do your job, simple as that. "You have to have all the stuff ready for Padraig when he arrives - his shoes, golf balls, all that. And you have to make sure you're not late, that's the important thing, and you're not smelling of the Guinness. Touch wood, I've only been late 10 minutes in 23 years - that's why, I think, I have the record I have. Padraig knows he'll never have to worry about me, he's knows I'll get there."

So what makes a good caddie? "I think it's knowing when to say something, and knowing when to say nothing. I don't know whether it's a knack or what, but you say something at the right time and you keep your mouth shut at the right time -I know when to get out of town. They're unbelievable these guys, you wouldn't believe how uptight they get, the pressure on them. Ballesteros, who has a bad reputation with caddies, said to me one day, `Johnny, when I put on my golf shoes my head goes', so I said, `why don't you play in your trainers'. He thought that was hilarious."

So how long will you stick with this fella Harrington? "As long as I'm fit, I'll keep going."

You travelled to Berlin in a golf bag once, didn't you? "I did."

I'd say you don't travel in golf bags anymore? "No."

Life's a little bit easier? "Oh it is yeah. Thanks to Harrington."

He grins. Raises his pint again. Here's to Poddy.