Then there was the Kerryman and his young son who were up in Belfast in August of last year on the weekend when the Kingdom played Armagh in the All Ireland senior football quarter final.

It being Sunday, they weren’t too sure where they could squeeze in to watch the big game on television. Eventually, after some discreet enquiries, they ended up ensconced in the salubrious surroundings of a popular establishment in West Belfast called ‘The Felons’ Club’. Hundreds of men and women, boys and girls of all ages thronged into the place, many of them proudly sporting the orange and white of Armagh and loudly cheering their heroes. They had much to cheer about, too. In the first half, the game was, to an extent, nip and tuck, but it still looked as though Armagh might have the edge.

The game opened in ding dong fashion. After two minutes, Armagh were two points up. In the third minute, Kerry goaled. However, by half time, Armagh led by two points. Our Kerry friend glumly ponders his pint of stout while his ten year old munches endless crisps and puts away numerous cans of fizzy drinks. Three minutes into the second half, Donaghy out jumps the legendary Bellew, takes his goal and puts Kerry three points ahead. Now, Armagh are on the back foot. A palpable silence descends on West Belfast. Except for three people in the club. The Kerryman and his little fella – almost sheepishly – leap to their feet punching the air. Out of the corner of an eye, they spot a burly figure in the middle distance celebrating with even more fervour.

The game continues with Kerry keeping their noses in front. Then, in the sixty-seventh minute, their substitute, O’Sullivan, finishes the game as a contest with a further goal. Again, only three people out of hundreds leap to their feet in jubilant celebration.

A little surprised to find another Kerryman so far North that particular Sunday, our friend approached the burly figure after the game as people milled around the bar looking for refills. ‘What part of Kerry are you from?’ he ventures. ‘Ach, I’m not from Kerry at all’, your man responds. ‘I’m from Tyrone! Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to see thon boys from Armagh being beaten …’.

Our Kerryman had stumbled into one of the great inter-county rivalries of the GAA. None deeper or more transcending than those between neighbouring counties. The Arabs, no slouches themselves when it comes to border disputes, have a saying that sums up the Tyrone man’s approach: ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend…’. There are other great border rivalries in the GAA. In hurling, there’s Kilkenny and Waterford and a bitter one in the land where East Limerick abuts onto Tipperary; in football, there is the perennial disputation between Galway and Mayo and in Meath, to the South that famous rivalry with the Dubs, while to the North, quieter – but even more intense and historic - conflicts with Cavan and Louth.

Influenced to an extent, no doubt, by modern media coverage (and those great All Ireland finals of the Seventies), we sometimes think of Kerry and Dublin as the quintessential rivalry of Gaelic football. Since their legendary tussles of the Eighties, others argue that there is an extra frisson of rivalry whenever Meath meet Cork. However, these Leinster counties are hundreds of kilometres away from the Kingdom and the Rebels. In addition, the last time we checked the map, they certainly did not share a border with them. Towns like Navan or Balbriggan are nearly four hundred kilometres away from the Kerry town of Dingle, Daingean, Dongle – or whatever they’re calling it this week. Distance tempers rivalry.

Therefore, the Dublin / Kerry and Meath / Cork rivalries are only in the ha’penny place compared with that between Cork and Kerry themselves, who take the field in today’s senior final. To an outsider, this may seem inexplicable. At first glance, there appear to be such similarities between these two counties. Both enjoy a pleasant climate warmed by the Gulf Stream; counties where the Gaelic language and culture flourish and are respected; where fishing folk still eke out a hazardous existence in distant Atlantic waters; sharing vistas of lake, mountain, valley and sea. To the untutored ear, their sing-song merry accents sound so similar. For years, alumni of famous schools and colleges in the two counties seemed to take it in turns to rule the rest of us as kingpins in the civil service. What could they possibly find to fall out over?

The fault line between them starts on the Beara peninsula at Ardgroom harbour and snakes along the peaks of the Caha mountains, turning east at Hungry Hill, the highest mountain in that range, on by the Healy Pass, through the Sheehy mountains and on to the Derrynasaggart peaks until we come to Rathmore - the El Paso of this ancient rivalry. Rathmore nestles snugly just on the Kerry side of the border. It is the place in September where ‘Sam’ gets off the train for the first time and is greeted rapturously on the sacred soil of the Kingdom.

The first Munster senior football final was contested in 1888 and won by Tipperary. Our rivals today have been ‘at it’ almost continuously since then, cheek by jowl, pushed up against the Atlantic waves. A mere two years after the championship began, Cork took their first title. They repeated that the following year. Then, the famous Kerry / Laune Rangers side said ‘Enough of this!’ and stepped in to take the Kingdom’s first title. It was Cork again in ’93 and ’94 and, again, in ’97 and ’99. The start of the next century saw a Kerry three-in-a-row, in ’03, ’04 and ’07.

And so it has gone on. Over the years, Kerry have amassed seventy two Munster titles, while Cork have thirty three. Now, through the quirks of the Qualifiers, that regional rivalry is transformed to the national stage of the All Ireland final. The teams are evenly matched. If anything, their rivalry has intensified in the past two or three years so there is a major ‘score’ to be settled today.

The rest of us – in the other thirty counties – may only gaze in awe at the intensity of this rivalry. But, you know, it was a less accomplished footballer than the stars we’re privileged to watch today who put all this in perspective. He was the Monaghan born poet, Patrick Kavanagh, who occasionally stood between the posts for his parish club, Enniskeen Rangers. In one of his best poems, Kavanagh tells of an age-old rivalry between the McCabes and the Duffys over the boundaries of a piece of worthless land while the Great Powers of Europe moved inexorably towards war. Kavanagh wrongly thought the conflict in Ballyrush and Gortin paled in comparison, until – as he said himself – ‘Homer’s ghost came whispering to my mind. He said: I made the Iliad of such a local row. Gods make their own importance. …’

Once referee David Coldrick throws in the ball today, Homer's ancient story of the siege of Troy will be as nothing compared with the gods of Cork taking on those of Kerry in another ‘local row’.

Patrick Kavanagh ... the Enniskeen Ranger...
First published in the programme for the All Ireland football finals, September 2007