Until the advent of Matt Kerrigan's well-drilled Leinster teams, the outstanding feature of the Railway Cups was the almost mystical fervour of Ulster's footballers. The old competition's place in northern hearts has been frequently observed: without any realistic chance of intercounty distinction, players in the province had only the Railway Cup and, to an extent, the Sigerson Cup to prove themselves against the best of Munster and Leinster.

With that motivation came success - although how exercised their southern rivals were by the whole business was open to question - and interprovincial success begat All-Ireland victories in four successive seasons.

It worked the other way as well, and the decline of Ulster's counties at championship level coincided with the end of a record-breaking run of six consecutive Railway Cups.

Through it all, from 1983 to date, the Ulster effort has been orchestrated by Brian McEniff and Art McRory. The pair are distantly related and 15 years is adequate testimony to their compatibility, but their credentials are a lot more comprehensive.

During the 15 years, Ulster have taken eight of the Railway Cups on offer (there was no competition in 1990 because of the change from autumn to spring).

As further proof of the management's status, their respective counties, Donegal and Tyrone, have taken an identical number of Ulster championships under the guidance of McEniff and McRory (tandem with his former field-lieutenant, Eugene McKenna).

McEniff is nearly four years departed from the management of Donegal, but his stamina for the Ulster job has yet to run out. By his admission, he has to think more carefully about taking on the responsibility as the years pass, but, so far, his conclusion, although more slowly reached than in the past, has been the same.

For Art McRory, the process is simpler: "I don't really have much option. Brian McEniff just rings me up and tells me to get ready, we're going again."

Despite the divisive potential of a two-man selection panel, any differences of opinion are easily resolved: "We don't disagree virulently," says McRory. "At times we agree to differ, but he's the boss, he makes the hard call."

"We work well together," says McEniff. "I've great respect for Arthur, he's very easy to work with, very honourable and very forth right."

Whereas he concedes that he, as manager, has the final say, McEniff yields to McRory's more strongly held opinions on selections and is all too aware when his own exercised prerogative goes wrong.

Once a player, whose place on the team was the unimpeded work of McEniff, committed a costly error.

The manager winced on the sideline. "I turned around and there was Art saying nothing, just looking up at you through those big glasses. He wouldn't say a word, but you'd get the message."

Disagreements on the merits of a player rarely follow obvious lines, according to McRory. "I was talking to Matt Gallagher (Donegal's AllIreland winning full back) and said, `You know, I like the look of that lad (Jimmy) McGuinness (Donegal midfielder). Matt told me he'd got the man of the match award in two of Donegal's league matches, and then said: `Would you tell Brian that?' You have to be twice as good to get on the team if you're from Donegal."

The Railway Cups are remarkable phenomena in that their annual staging is marked as much by existential hand-wringing as by analysis of the matches and selections. Brian McEniff remains the competition's most prominent advocate and has always been opposed to the January scheduling. McRory agrees.

"One wonders at times is it worth continuing, preparing in the middle of January - particularly this January."

He sees the future in one of two directions. "Maybe it should be played over the one weekend, with a social emphasis which would allow players to meet each other. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a bad vehicle to promote the games in the satellites, like England, Scotland and North America."

In the meantime, more prosaic venues beckon. Dr Hyde Park sees tomorrow's action. It's a long time since Ulster lost to Connacht, but there's a certain metal fatigue evident. Nonetheless, hope springs from the almost eternal Art McRory.