IN ABERDEEN in 2009, six months or so after moving from Scotland to Ireland, I recall being heckled by the Scotland captain of the day: "Oh, so you're Irish now?"

In Edinburgh this week, a month after moving back to Scotland, another familiar voice from home questioned why I'd reversed that puddle jump across the Irish Sea at a time when Irish sport is, he stated with conviction, so much stronger than Scottish sport.

First of all, can everybody note once and for all that, for me, a sports journalist with affiliation is a sports journalist with a credibility issue, and I'd rather mend sewage pipes for a living than be accused of that. I like to see Scotland do well and I like to see Ireland do well, because it is a very good story every time they do.

Afghanistan? Their journey has been a magnificent yarn, too. I love compelling stories of cricket progress, and whether it's rags to riches or rags to slightly better-tailored rags, this kind of content makes the job a joy.

In truth, it is easier to write about a team that is winning than one that is losing, because that is when analysis gets complicated and criticism tightens relations. But the main point is that this is a profession, and loyalties based on nationality are a serious impediment to any scribe purporting to do a good job.

September 3, 2013, was a barmy day in the cricketing existence of the two countries I know best. As we sat, subdued and pretty much bored by an emphatically one-sided Scotland-Australia game, somebody started to measure Scotland's score against England's in Malahide.

For a good while, one associate nation was being embarrassed by a powerhouse while, simultaneously, another associate nation was embarrassing a powerhouse to a similar extent. Soon the 1+1=2 brigade were making cutting remarks on Twitter, revelling in the irrefutable evidence that Irish cricket was vastly superior to Scottish cricket - period - and then came the enquiry about how I could leave a land of sporting milk and honey for a barren wasteland.

My colleague is adamant that Ireland's sporting culture is built on far stronger foundations than Scotland's, and that self-belief is the cornerstone of his theory. With every fibre of my being I believe that this argument is balderdash, and the author will spit with equal venom on my theory that all national sides are subject to cycles.

Look at Australian cricket for a start. Cricket authorities Down Under are still struggling to come up with a coherent paper on why the Mark Taylor era enjoyed a blissful transition into the Steve Waugh era and then Ricky Ponting was left fighting a decline that even with his astonishingly prolific blade, and all the talent and infrastructure around him, he was helpless to reverse. And why, finally, Michael Clarke's mob are nowhere near strong enough to get the Ashes back from an England side that nobody could sensibly describe as brilliant.

So is Irish sport stronger than Scottish sport? I accept that the evidence of the past decade is persuasive, that all the Heineken Cups and the Grand Slam and the multiple major golf titles and the qualification for Euro 2012 make it hard to avoid the conclusion that they are doing something better over there to produce world-class athletes who get what it takes to win.

But is it really a cultural thing or did they just happen upon a generation of very special individuals and give them the wings they needed to fly?

In five years in Ireland I found that there was no discernible difference at national level in the philosophy of how to create winners. Every sport is run on different lines and funding is distributed the same way it is in Scotland - to those who cannot be self-sufficient while committing themselves to full-time training.

Ireland has essentially enjoyed a golden era of sport - though most people there fail to realise this, and curse the fact they cannot win World Cups and - based on the cultivation of freak talents.

Padraig Harrington, Rory McIlroy, Graeme McDowell and Darren Clarke are extraordinary talents. None of them is a grafter who was helped to get the best out of himself by an inspired infrastructure. Shane Lowry is a decent player but no better than the Scots contingent whose population in this year's Open Championship field broke double figures. There were only four Irish players at Muirfield.

There will never be another Brian O'Driscoll, Paul O'Connell or Ronan O'Gara. They are singular individuals who have been so consistently influential on the outcome of matches that Irish rugby would have won nothing - and I mean nothing - without them.

They have not been solely responsible for Heineken Cups and Triple Crowns but their presence, and the example they have set, has had a knock-on effect in getting the best out of mortals around them. The Celtic Tiger boom was nicely timed for the advent of professional rugby, allowing Munster and Leinster to become what they had always wanted to be.

Irish football, on both sides of the border and collectively, is weaker than Scottish football and the Republic of Ireland have fared better than Scotland because their players recognise this: they do not fester at home but leave for England at the first opportunity, and return as serious players.

Does that ring any bells in the power struggle in associate cricket that has turned into an Irish monopoly? Niall O'Brien, Ed Joyce, Eoin Morgan, William Porterfield and Boyd Rankin would not have been so influential in landmark games if they had not moved to England to grow as players in a more competitive environment.

Morgan and Rankin may be lost to Ireland but that fact in itself illustrates the point that the Irish talent harvest of the 2000s has been unprecedented and may never be seen again.

As well as these well-trained professionals the current Ireland team also comprises extraordinary individuals with singular talent. There will never be another Trent Johnston, another Paul Stirling or another Kevin O'Brien. And the excellence of the eight players mentioned, allied to a massive cash investment by RSA Insurance, has helped Alex Cusack and John Mooney and other mortals to get the best out of themselves.

Scottish sport currently has no major golf champions, no Grand Slam or Heineken Cup winners, no world-class cricketers and no footballer who has played in a summer tournament of consequence. But is this really because Scots do not believe in themselves? Andy Murray, Chris Hoy, Katherine Grainger and the swimming contingent who will be counting their medals after next year's Commonwealth Games make a very persuasive counter-argument.

Spotted among the crowd at The Grange for the Australia game were the Hastings brothers, Scott and Gavin. Irish rugby fans used to believe that if only they had talent like that on their side, they might finally be able to cut Scotland down to size.

When Australians watch good players like Phillip Hughes and Shaun Marsh go out to bat, they pine for the days of Langer and Hayden. Irish rugby is about to experience life without the Three Os. McIlroy will win more Majors but Harrington is a spent force. By next year Phil Simmons' bowling attack will be spearheaded neither by Johnston nor Rankin.

To produce winners you need good infrastructure and a culture of self-worth. But there is no substitute for talent, and talent comes and goes in cycles.