The chip vendors claimed their territory early, lining the entrance to Casement Park, chopping onions and cursing the heat.

It was the day before the Twelfth and, being a Sunday anyhow, a restfulness settled along the Falls. Nearby, at St Theresa's, the Down boys were beginning to arrive for a kickabout. They spotted him immediately, grinning and leaning on crutches. McCartan. Always first on the job.

"It gave us a huge lift just to see him there," admits Micheal Magill.

"Everyone has read the reports about James's career being in jeopardy. We were aware of that going into the game and to see him there was inspirational. You know, one minute you're in a situation where you expect to have your captain and star forward there alongside you. Then you hear he may not play again.

James gave a pep talk before the game in the dressing-room and then in the second half you'd catch him from the corner of your eye trotting up and down the sideline, like the Messiah waving these crutches. It was incredible."

On that scorching day three weeks ago, somewhere along the way as they withered Tyrone's soaring hopes, this Down team stirred old ghosts. Watching them tearing Tyrone asunder was like a throwback.

"We had a feeling, you know, that it was in us," says Magill.

"I think back to the league game against Mayo. We needed to win to stay up and, of course, went about six points down. But we fought in this driving rain and grabbed a goal at the end for the points.

"Some of the senior lads had a talk that day and we knew that if we got some of the older lads back we weren't going to be so far away. We worked so hard after the Antrim game that we came to Belfast thinking we could turn things."

Magill rose to prominence with Down at perfect time. In 1991, he caught Pete McGrath's attention as an under-21 star but declined an invitation to join the senior panel. Didn't feel ready. That September, he stood on the Hill as the seniors brought a great Meath team to its knees.

Those years were alive with improbability and when Magill was drafted in, during the autumn of 1992, Ulster was all the rage. Donegal and then Derry claimed All-Irelands before the Down boys even got their heads clear.

"There was just this intense focus that returned. We beat Derry in the first round in 1994 and afterwards we thought we could only be troubled by the Leinster champions we could meet in the All-Ireland final," he recalls.

So they came to play Dublin in Croke Park that September, Magill the rookie at corner back. On a drenched, soft afternoon, they did it all again.

"Today the first people that came up to me were seven mates who I've been playing football with since I was under-10. I won it for them. I won it for my uncles and all the McGovern family and the Magill family and for the St Peter's club in Warrenpoint," he gushed in the aftermath. The words have a resonance even now but the interim years somehow became blurred in a rush of surprise defeats and if only stories. Half a dozen years and a handful of summer matches and the rookie finds himself as old-timer. Captain and senior voice.

"Yeah, it's happened quickly. I think that this year people looked at Down and saw an absence of familiar names. Wrote us off. But there is younger talent there and with Greg McCartan nearly fit and Ross Carr back on form, we suddenly have a balanced look."

And yet the whispers were about before the championship. A dynasty in turmoil, the end of an era. That sort of thing.

"It was absolute rubbish," insists Magill.

"I heard these stories about Paul Higgins and James McCartan coming to blows with Peter McGrath after a challenge game, stuff like that. It never happened. What happened was that some of the senior lads spoke up about the way we were playing then. You read that sort of stuff and it angers you. But, also, you want to just go out as a team and shove it down their throats."

And through it all, McGrath maintained his dignity: polite and measured through it all.

"That's Pete, a very private man who just loves Down football. The thing is he allows senior players a say, in the same way that Sean Boylan does, I believe. People talk about Down and the All-Irelands we might have won with that team. But I don't think we'd have taken the two we did without Pete McGrath."

And here they are, end of the century, hovering around with that old menace again. This was meant to be Armagh's year. For too long, they've listened to the whoops in Newry and Downpatrick. Could they not lie down for one summer?

"There's a lot of talk about the rivalry between us and Armagh and yeah, it does exist for sure. Just because of friends and families and lads working together. Normal stuff. But it'll make Sunday a special day. Our attitude is that if we don't win it, well, what's the point in being there? You've nothing to show for your season. We really want this."

And Down haven't made a habit of turning up at Clones for the beer. Their faltering show against Tyrone in 1996 still rankles.

Magill lists it as their grimmest hour. If they do emerge on Sunday, the southern teams will sleep uneasily. Down still training in August generally means bad news for the rest of Ireland. But these days, there's no lofty talk of September.

McGrath announced his team early this week and now, all they can do is wait.

"We know what we have to do. Sean Ward is dropping back to full back but it's not specifically to pick up (Diarmuid) Marsden. I thought Diarmuid would be named at top of the left. If he goes there, then Simon Poland will pick him up. If he goes centre half, Micheal Magill will pick him up. We're not going to man-mark him. We have a game plan and feel the central diamond is the crucial area."

Maybe, but on days like tomorrow, blueprints often just get lost in the madness. When Armagh felled Donegal in the first round, they swarmed Clones as though there was silverware on offer. There is a sense of manifest destiny about Armagh this year. So far, they've had the breaks to match the talent.

But Down, who knows what they are? Twice this decade they have surged from the blue and left us breathless. Seems like yesterday since wee James was the newest thing. Now, times are less certain.

"If we lose, well, who'll remember it but us?," reasons Magill. "But days like this are the kind that make teams."