JOEY HARRINGTON is used to making decisions in the time it takes to scream '28 Right' above a cacophony of noise. This particular quandary, however, took a little longer to resolve.

"We were calling back and forth, wondering what we should do, " he recalls. "My Dad recorded it, we shut off our cellphones, then came back and watched it." It had been an anxious choice.

Church or Carnoustie? "I left the house right as Padraig was finishing the 18th hole so I like to think that, by going to mass and saying a prayer, I helped him get through that play-off. At least that's my theory."

The recollection of that warm Sunday in July brings a warm smile to his face. The glow of familial pride, of . . .albeit after the fact . . . when he watched his second cousin become the British Open golf champion is obvious. They grew up an ocean apart, and keep in touch mainly by text message but there is an evident bond. Padraig, by lifting the Claret Jug, reaped his dividend for days and years spent honing his craft. Joey still awaits his call into the circle of the triumphant. The next six months, he trusts, may see that summons arrive and bring further honour upon the greater Clan Harrington.

It is an overcast but still feverishly humid morning and the helmeted figure in the Number 13 shirt is drilling balls long down the field. All eyes are on the quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons, his teammates, coaches and the few observers allowed inside the acutely guarded walls of the team's vast practice facility all scrutinising his every move. 'C'mon. Let's go, " screams one of the tutors after a second's undue hesitation. Every second counts in the NFL. Games . . . and jobs . . . are won and lost upon the surety of the hands of the passer. And it is in Joey that they now place their faith.

Harrington, whose ancestors journeyed from Cork to Montana before settling in Portland, did not expect to shoulder such responsibility when he moved from Miami to the Old South earlier this year. The Falcons, who will look for their first win of the nascent campaign today against the Houston Texans, have become his team . . . but by default. Their previous quarterback, Michael Vick, was the league's ultimate show reel star. Six weeks ago, he plummeted abruptly to earth upon his conviction in a federal court on charges of dog-fighting and racketeering. He has become persona non grata here, all traces of his image airbrushed into oblivion, leaving the man who was originally signed to be his understudy firmly centre stage.

"Nobody could have predicted that this was the way this would all turn out, " Harrington admits. "However, I was ready for it. I feel great about this opportunity. It's the chance I was waiting for.

I finally felt like I was mentally back to the type of player I used to be and I was prepared to wait for my opportunity. It just came sooner than anyone expected."

He used to be beloved and feted. At the University of Oregon, he became a local hero. When he turned professional in 2002, as the third overall choice in the annual NFL Draft, the hyperbole could hardly have been louder. Anointed as the saviour of the Detroit Lions, he experienced firstly silence, then jeers. On a bad side, the fingers of blame pointed squarely at him. Fairly or not, he was left, alone, to confront the demons.

"It was tough for me to work through the adversity at first because I'd never had to deal with it before, " he reflects. "In college, we had so much success. We lost three games in three years so I'd never had to deal with losing before. I'd never had to deal with getting booed by my own fans."

The vitriol was a shock to the system. "However, once I was able to come to grips with it and recognise that I was trying to make everyone happy rather than focusing on my own performance, I was able to get my own confidence and focus back. It's been a two-year process, through my last year in Detroit and last year in Miami. I finally am back at a point where I feel confident again."

After the Falcons 0-3 start, the doubters have reemerged. "I'm going to throw some incompletions, or maybe some interceptions, " he admitted after last Sunday's 27-20 loss to Carolina.

"But it is our job as a team to pick each other up no matter the situation." In the NFL, there is no room for selfdoubt. Not on Sundays. Especially not for the quarterback.

"That's the nature of the position." Yet there is no sense that he must fill Vick's shoes.

He knows his limitations.

"But I also know my strengths. I'm not trying to be somebody who I'm not."

Unlike Padraig, he remains an unproven commodity.

That major breakthrough has, though, served to inspire and heaped further intrigue unto what is a friendly rivalry. "We have a long-standing bet that he can hit a wedge further than I can throw a long 20-yard comeback, " jokes Joey, who currently boasts a not-so-shabby handicap of six. "His wedge play must be pretty good if he can win a major so I have plenty to live up to."

The pair had a brief reunion earlier this month when Padraig took part in the Tour Championship at East Lake in suburban Atlanta. It brought together not only the sporting cousins but an entire branch of the family tree with which Joey has become acquainted since he arrived here.

It is not an unfamiliar occurrence among the Diaspora but the Falcons talisman deeply cherishes such ties. "There may be situations where the likes of Padraig's success and my success might bring out the hangers-on. In our family, it has enabled us to rekindle those connections, ones we'd heard about and learnt about growing up. We can actually meet those people."

Should tee-times and trophy chases permit, Rathfarnham's finest has a standing invite to attend his first NFL game as a VIP guest. And if Padraig can enlarge the cheerleading corps at the Georgia Dome by one, he will sense much of himself on the gridiron field.

The genetic resemblance is striking, as is their quest for perfection. The games may differ but not the internal challenges each faces. The elite of golf, claims his kin, would identify easily with the mindset required to pick out a receiver or unleash a pass under the threat of a stampede of super-heavyweight enforcers.

In golf, he notes, "you're constantly working on your own mental side much like what I do. You have to be ready to make the next throw, you have to be ready to make the next read, you have to be on top of your game mentally. Otherwise it affects everyone else."

With that observation, Harrington departs to further tune his mind and body for the challenges ahead.

Despite the initial traumas in Atlanta, his expectations are simple. "Win. Period." Is it now Joey's turn to make some noise, guiding the Falcons skyward on a wing and a prayer.

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