Dear John,

I hope it is not too presumptious to address you personally, but I feel that we have become friends, and that, in time, we may become very good friends.

A true friend is the one to whom we turn when we reach the nadir of despair, the one who sweeps in to rescue us in our hours of greatest need.

When you arrived at our doorstep almost two years ago, we were at a very low ebb, and almost at the point of no return. Even with Limerick hurling's history of self destruction, Justin McCarthys reign and the subsequent strike had us on the brink of hurling oblivion. Great numbers of us had deserted and abandoned the cause, having given the best of ourselves. The overwhelming negativity of that period had bitterly drained us and left us without hope. The appointment of Donal O'Grady lifted us briefly and offerred hope. His subesquent departure after only one year, left us, yet again, on the brink. One false step then and all would have been irretrievably lost.

I was only vaguely aware of you prior to your arrival. Obviously I knew you managed and led Cork to win an All Ireland and, from your column in the Irish Times, you seemed like an interesting man with a wider range of interests than the usual narrow confines of a GAA team manager. An entertaining dinner guest yes, but the man to rescue the shipwreck from rocks and relaunch to the high seas of success? I wasn't certain.

Yes, I am afraid that I doubted you. I hope that this doesn't spoil our fledgling friendship. A true friend is after all one who deserves the truth.

Your avowed desire to give "ownership" to the players on the pitch when managing Cork, worried me greatly. That was all very well with Cork that was populated with strong ambitious hurling personalities in Sean Og and Donal Og, but in Limerick? We had the strong personalities all right, but they had hardly demonstrated hurling ambitions or the selflessness to make the necessary sacrifices.

I confess that I was uneasy. Your calm public demeanour did not inspire me that you could ignite the passion within? We have always been a team that functions better as a whole rather than as a sum of its parts and are powered by the energy generated by its supporters. As that relationship had fractured, the engine inevitably choked. That relationship had become toxic and dangerous to supporters health. It has always driven me mad to see a player on a pitch frantically waving their arms exhorting the crowd to rouse them. I feel like taking them aside and pointing out that if they were doing their job on the pitch, we are more than capable of doing ours in the Stands.

I was wrong. That is not something I admit to very often, but as we are friends now it's an admission I am comfortable making. You have figured out the formula and released the vapors that we are powerless to resist. It took some experimentation but you and your research team of selectors, trainers and players seem to have made a significant breakthrough.

Did you ever doubt I wonder? The alchemy of a successful team is a code that very few crack. Did you ever worry that some of the presumptions you made when you first set out the phases of your research were false and would prove unfounded?

Did you presume an escape from Division 2 in your first year? I know that we are supposed to call it Division 1B but no matter how they dress it up and prettify it, to me it is still Division 2. I know that I presumed this. I was at the final last year and watched as we went from a position of strength to see our energy and performance levels fade to be pipped by Clare. I have no doubt that the match turned when James Ryan (dominant up to that point) allowed himself to be distracted by Davy Fitzgeralds, deliberate "intervention" on the side line. I was disappointed but I saw chinks of light - not enough to convince but enough to hope.

Our performance in last years Championship was like a microcosm of Limerick hurling in the past 40 years - losing another match that we should have won in the last 10 minutes, beating fellow Division 2 travellers in the Qualifiers and a moral victory against Kilkenny. More chinks of light but hardly a new dawn.

Still in Division 2 this year? Losing another match that mattered that, we should have won was worrying. If I ever write the story of Limerick hurling, the title just has to be "Could have.. should have.. would have..". We had more than enough chances in that match to win it handsomely, didn't take them and lost to the team that did take the chances that came their way. Plus ca change, plus ca meme, meme chose.

I sensed that Tipperary were ripe for an ambush but I doubted our capacity to execute such a manouvre. That was the day that cemented our friendship. When Tipperary went ahead in the second half, I despaired. Here we go again I thought, and began to gather my belongings for another bolt for the exit at the final whistle and another losing journey home. But wait, we have regrouped, reloaded our weapons and are not ready for the white flag just yet. We are level, (just maybe..), we are ahead, (oh god, how much time is left, did anyone take the time lads?), we go further ahead and the crowd begins to bay for the final whistle (even a ten year old of my acquaintance is shouting at the the referee to "blow it up, for gods sake"), we go further ahead but yet I cannot breathe until the final whistle goes. It has been so long that I don't really know what to feel when success in a Championship match finally comes (though this might have been caused by holidng my breath for so long). I pause and check, yes I can identify it now, it is blessed relief. I watch the pure unconfined joy and excitement of a ten year old of my acquaintance and make a mental note to thank you for that, from him and from me.

And so to Cork. I knew that this would test our friendship. I accepted that you might suffer some pangs of conscience a la Eamon Cregan in 94. I worried too about the hype. In Limerick throw us a crumb and we make a lunge for the cake. The bunting and flags were retrieved from our attics, found eventually under years of accumulated debris and the event junkies jumped on the bandwagon with gusto as the tickets were snapped up. I knew that when I got to the final I would be surrounded by fans who had last seen Limerick "live" when we last made a final and if we lost, would not be seen again until we made the next one.

I worried about Cork. They do not do self-doubt. They had sufferred the kind of crittiscism from ex-players that are usually our preserve. Would the hype and occasion impact on us and if so, to what extent? A ten year old of my acquaintance asks if we will win. I refuse to leap from the comfort of the fence and offer the same answer that a now 75 year old of my acquaintance gave to me when I started on the journey, that is, that there are too many variables and too many things that can happen on the day that we cannot control, for example the weather, the sun in our eyes, the sun in their eyes, the wind against us, the wind behind us, our health and injuries, their health and injuries, the referee and the most known unknown in lady luck. The latter has turned her deaf ear and rear end to our entreaties in the past few years but now maybe she will smile benignly us and grace her with her presence. His look says that a simple "yes" would have sufficed.

I can remember little of the detail of the Munster Final apart from the flash of red at the end of the first half. I could not and did not relax until the final whistle blew. I did not run on to the pitch but made my way quickly to the area in front of the presentation area and savoured the moment of redemption.

It is I know just a staging post on our journey, but after too many wrong turns, it feels that we may finally be on the right road.

I have sufferred much for the cause and experience has taught me to savour each moment on a journey. Too often we pass our destination without knowing that it was the end. I have often felt that I am "paired" with a Kilkenny supporter. If the "pleasure/pain" principle applies, then my twin has had a ball supporting their team, whilst I suffer only pain in supporting mine.

Will we see delieverance? Will we win an All Ireland? If will alone are enough, then we shall. We may, we may not. Either way, you have a friend for life.

I am conscious that your job is not yet done and no doubt you are busy preparing for the Semi Final (how good does that sound?). I shall not distract you further for the moment. I shall be in touch soon.

Yours sincerely

Your friend.