All-Ireland SHC Quarter-finals/Tom Humphriestalks to the Cork and Waterford managers, Gerald McCarthy and Justin McCarthy, who add another chapter to their long story of friendship

When it came to dropping Kieran Murphy this week Gerald McCarthy's mind must have vaulted back through the years. A light rummage in his own cellar of memories would have been enough to tell him no lasting damage was being done to Cork's deposed young captain.

A few miles away in his office in an industrial estate just outside the city Justin McCarthy's eyes will have narrowed slightly as he watched his old friend shuffle the Cork deck. The thought of it makes Gerald smile.

"There'd be a bit of that all right. Myself trying to think of what Justin will do," says Gerald, "and sure he'll be thinking about what I'm doing. I'd say all Waterford will know well too what I am thinking. You want to think outside the box a little just to throw them off."

And when Justin names a team?

"Ah sure," says Gerald with a soft laugh.

Ah sure, indeed. Playing players in the positions where they are picked would be the most surprising and radical stunt Justin has pulled in years. Gerald doesn't expect him to go that far.

What a colloidal tangle the two men's lives are. Forty-two years ago St Finbarr's ended a decade-long famine and won the Cork county title. Gerald McCarthy from Bandon Road had grown up on street league games in the Lough, and though his dad hurled with Lough Rovers it was the Barrs who crooked their fingers first and beckoned him in.

He was 20 back in 1965 but already captain of the Barrs. A county championship meant the following year if he started for Cork he would be captain of the county too.

Not that the job seemed to require any heavy lifting. Gerald had been brought to Dublin for the 1956 All-Ireland with Wexford. He was 10 and was hoisted on his father's shoulders so he could get a view over the hats and bald spots. Cork lost. They hadn't been back to Croke Park since.

Anyway in 1966 the first round was against Clare. Gerald McCarthy wasn't picked to play. He was well aware of Justin McCarthy by then in that way legends' stories overlap locally even in the early chapters. Justin was part, if not the mainstay, of a much heralded Passage team that had won an under-15 championship in 1959 and, with Eddie O'Brien, he had graduated to Cork minor sides in the early 60s. Justin was prodigiously talented, a sublime stickman.

Gerald remembers the quiet awe at Cork training sessions as the full range of Justin's talents became evident: "He was unhookable and unblockable. Superb. Remember Brian Corcoran scored that goal last year with a drop shot. Justin could do that all the time. He had incredible skills."

Yet it was Gerald who played senior club first, breaking through on to the St Finbarr's senior hurling and football sides when he was just 16. Somehow it seems unsurprising that his first championship game was against Passage, a little before Justin broke through for the harbour club.

"I remember it well." says Gerald. "There was a guy, Tim Mullane, who was captain on the side in 1955 and he was coming to the end of his career and was at full forward. We were a couple of points down and I came on. I was playing on Tom O'Neill."

Tom O'Neill would be known later as Teddy McCarthy's father-in-law but at the time he was a sturdy, stern defender playing for Passage against a side who would become galacticos (Charlie McCarthy, for instance, had come to the Barrs from Redmonds) and Gerald McCarthy, just introduced as a surprise package, was 16 and fair game for a surprise himself: "I was just a little weakling. Tom gave me a belt as soon as I went in. An almighty belt."

Tim Mullane saw the belt and began moving out from his post to issue a reciprocal belt on behalf of the Barrs. He had scarcely moved five yards when he saw young Gerald's riposte. The kid gave a mighty belt back. Tim Mullane returned to his full-forward spot grinning. "Tim said to himself, he'll be all right anyway."

He was. McCarthy scored three points. The Barrs got a draw in the Athletic Grounds that day. The new boy got written up locally. From that belt to when Barrs won the replay with Gerald McCarthy starting was the length of time it took him to arrive.

Against Clare, Peter Doolan captained the team from the full-back line. Cork were in trouble by the time Gerald McCarthy warmed up to come on that day in Limerick.

Going into the final minute of the game Clare were ahead by three points. His intercounty career would begin much like his club career had begun, performing emergency services as a substitute. He came in and made an impact but the medals for valour went to his friend Justin McCarthy, who that day would announce himself with an emphatic clearing of the throat.

In the fading moments Cork were awarded a free a little more than 21 yards out and at an angle. They needed a goal. The Banner men, pumped and hunched on the Clare line, had only to keep the ball out and they were away and free.

Justin McCarthy bent, lifted and drove to the net as sweet a strike as anyone had ever seen - 3-8 apiece. Cork's young team survived. Gerald McCarthy held his place and in September he lifted the All-Ireland trophy. Justin McCarthy became the Caltex Hurler of the Year.

There were good times along the way. Tipperary were the dreaded ogres of Munster hurling at the time and had beaten Cork for three years in a row by margins of five points, 14 points and, in 1965, 18 points.

"They weren't satisfied just to win the match; they'd be thinking of doing damage to Cork's morale for the next year. They were always thinking ahead, looking for ways to put us in our box," says Gerald.

Then one fine day Eamonn Cregan scored 3-5 and Tipp were gone. There was rejoicing among the peasantry and some thin smiles of anticipation among the gentry by the Lee.

In Killarney for the semi-final against Limerick, Justin and Gerald, talking hurling, were delayed as the team's fleet of cars left the hotel for Fitzgerald Stadium. They walked up the hill, but two fresh-faced lads trying to gain free admission by claiming they were playing was an old stunt. Finally a priest had to intervene with the stileman.

Charlie McCarthy got one of Cork's pair of late goals to put the county back into a Munster final. On the other side of the draw Waterford's bubble had been slowly expanding as they watched the carnage. Cork took a sharp pin to Déise hopes. Only Kilkenny in September awaited.

When the Cup came back to Cork after an absence of a dozen years three young men stood top front on the truck as it crawled into the city from Kent Station with the captured silverware glinting in the light. Justin McCarthy, Gerald McCarthy and their friend and confederate from the under-21 side Charlie McCarthy, all with a hand on their other pal, Liam MacCarthy.

"We'd be fairly sticky us McCarthys," laughs Justin. "Sure we all came out of the one stock."

He points out people sometimes notice something unusual in pictures of that year's parade before the All-Ireland final. Kilkenny paraded as selected. Gerald McCarthy is first in line for Cork but Justin, his friend and room-mate (the pair went to confession in Dublin the night before), is second in line and Charlie McCarthy, the magical corner forward, is third.

A matter of weeks later the three McCarthys set into the business of winning Cork's first under-21 All-Ireland.

Surprisingly, they met more resistance than they had at senior level and it took three attempts to kill off Wexford, who were champions at the time.

Cork scored three goals the first day, four the second day and, in an explosion of frustration, nine the third day.

Justin recalls the little swagger with which the three of them moved within the under-21 scene. On the night before one of the games with Wexford the three of them made their way into Dublin from the Spa Hotel in Lucan. It was an era when one might have been better off charting the alignment of the stars to guess the time of the next bus to Lucan, and the three hurlers got stranded.

They walked most of the way from O'Connell Street back to the team hotel before being picked up by a car containing a couple of Cork footballers, including Billy Morgan. They were deposited at their hotel a quarter of an hour beyond curfew time but felt they did a decent job passing through the lobby, three senior medallists exercising a little latitude.

The three were rooming together and had no sooner shut the bedroom door when a stern rapping came from the other side. Their confidence drained quickly and all three jumped into their beds wearing their suits.

"Open the door, boys," said Jim "Tough" Barry, the legendary trainer.

"You'd better open it, Charlie," whispered Gerald as he set about feigning deep sleep.

Charlie McCarthy hopped up in suit and collar and tie and opened the door, an action accompanied by theatrical yawning and rubbing of sleep from the eyes.

"Where were ye, boys?" asked Barry.

"In bed," said Charlie affronted.

"In your suits, is it?" said Barry.

There was some rumpus. The coach made his point but knew in his heart he had little to worry about. He was looking after innocent men in innocent times and it still wasn't 11 o'clock.

"Justin was stone mad for the hurling," says Gerald. "We all were. It was the 60s and all that went with it but we knew nothing else."

Gerald and Justin would room together on trips to the Wembley tournament in London. Teams would stay in the Queens Hotel in Bayswater.

"We didn't drink or smoke or ride bicycles," says Gerald. "The lads would go off around London and Justin and I would find a park to puck around in."

1966 and all that. The year ended well.

On December 16th in Cork the young All-Ireland champions played Kilkenny again in a grounds tournament game and won by a point. Affirmation.

At the end of the year Justin and Gerald brought the Liam MacCarthy to the annual dinner in Passage.

Gerald popped the question. "No pressure mind," he laughs, "but he was anxious to join a senior club at the time."

One bitter cold night in January Gerald drove down and collected Justin and they trained in Togher with the Barrs.

"They were very fashionable," says Justin. "I was going to go to them and often said I should have gone but for some reason, I am in Rochestown away from everyone. I'm living the same place I was born and I am away up in the fields. I said, no I'll stay. I would have got a lot of support.

"I had a lot of friends there but if I had of gone maybe I wouldn't be in Croke Park on Sunday. Maybe I had to take another road. Gerald and myself were always two independent spirits."

The friendship lasted. They marked each other a few times. Passage never beat the Barrs in the championship but when they were intermediate in the early 70s they became the main tributary into the divisional side, Seandún. In 1975 Barrs were All-Ireland club champions and Seandún had the pleasure of beating them in the Cork county championship.

Four of that Barrs team went on to coach Cork but in 1975 Justin was county coach and Gerald was still lining out. Two years later Justin was gone for a stint in Clare.

In 1982 Gerald had Cork and Justin was back as a selector and so on till Gerald told Waterford their team needed a fresh voice and Waterford said give us a year till we find one and Justin succeeded Gerald as manager, leading the two of them to tomorrow's crossroads.

Back in the day Jim "Tough" Barry used to tell the lads a story. Jim had never himself played at the highest level. He had been playing junior though and he joined Blackrock as a senior. His first senior championship game came around and as he was known as a bit of a sprinter the Rockies inserted him at corner forward.

He was fast and keen. The first ball came in and he felt a hurley and a strong forearm around his neck. He was pinned to the spot, as he said, like a greyhound stuck in his trap. The ball hopped wide. And the second. And the third. This went on for the whole game. Jim Barry didn't touch a ball, neither did his man. Coming off the field his marker shook his hand happily: "There ya go, Jim. It's a great game when you learn how to play it."

Two old-school graduates walk the line in Croke Park tomorrow. Two old friends. Two independent spirits tethered to a common love of the game.

The summer's biggest match will go far in shaping our judgment of both of them. Their judgment of each other will be untouched, their mutual respect undiminished.