The 'Irish Times' Crosaire crossword had its origins in a chance remark at a Christmas party some 60 years ago, writes crosswords editor Lorna Kernan

Derek Crozier has his 85-year-old heart set on having his Crosaire crossword included in Guinness World Records. Could his creation, celebrating its 60th anniversary tomorrow with the publication of Crozier's diamond-jubilee cryptic crossword, qualify as the longest-running of its kind?

A Guinness record would represent a sort of spiritual homecoming for the man who started his career as a clerk at Guinness's Dublin brewery before moving in 1948 with his young family to Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe. "Whatever small importance the crosswords may have had for Irish Times readers, they certainly became of the greatest importance to us," says Crozier of his early days on the land. "They were our only, slender means of support while I was learning how to become a tobacco farmer."

It all began in the Pearl Bar, on Fleet Street in Dublin, during the 1942 Christmas Eve party, when Crozier said to Irish Times journalist Jack White: "It's a sort of hobby of mine, making up crosswords." By the end of the evening, after chatting to Bertie Smyllie, the paper's then editor, and his deputy, Alec Newman, the deal was done. "To this day, I can't imagine why they accepted my very naive salesmanship, but almost before you could say 'word of six letters', I found myself committed to producing some samples in a few days' time."

Despite being conceived in the merry season of goodwill, promises were honoured, and this newspaper's first crossword was born on March 13th, 1943. The name Crosaire was inspired by the then common road signs bearing the Irish cros aire - crossroads - and he loved the play on his own name.

Despite grumbles from readers from time to time that the the crossword has changed - too subtle, too difficult, too obscure, or just different somehow - Crozier is emphatic: "I have always compiled the clues, and since I retired from teaching in 1990, took over filling in the girds from my wife Marjorie".

You can take to power-walking or skipping to keep your components oiled and supple, you canfollow the food-pyramid chart for squeaky-healthy internals, you can keep a tally on those alcohol units, but to keep your wits peaking, you simply need a brain-teasing Crosaire crossword. That's according to Crosaire buffs, who say a puzzle a day keeps the straitjacket away. But it's a flexible prescription, as one Crosaire could keep a wit on board for more than a day - a situation only tolerated amicably when wits have a couple of unsolved clues to bridge a Sunday bereft of Crosaire.

Thank goodness, then, for Saturday's sustaining crossword, favoured by enthusiasts. The style is a bit more challenging for the connoisseur, being bordered by four 13-letter clues. It is also a hit with its newish formula (in the context of 60 years, that is) of linking those four clues. On the very odd occasion when a different grid is published, it doesn't take long for Crosaire's disciples to advise me that some apostles were knocked off their weekend axis.

Crosaire aficionados sound as if they've been abducted by some force, talking about the figuring, the musings, the frustrations, the outwitting, the light, the winning. They say that it's a prod for the grey matter, that it's a compos mentis drug.

I've sampled a variety of the species over the years: the Canadian who clicked in every day to the Irish Times website, the Dutchman in Waterford who considered it the best way to improve his English, the woman who wanted to join the Crosaire club so badly that she organised family members to speed into D'Olier Street to pick up a couple of copies of Mary O'Brien's "Clueing in on Crosaire" article to accompany her and the hubby on a sunshine-cum-Crosaire- initiation holiday.

Many fans mention the hullabaloo surrounding Crosaire's 50th anniversary, in 1993, when Derek and Marjorie Crozier visited from Zimbabwe. The celebrations included crossword heats around Ireland, a readers' forum and Crozier's appearance on The Late Late Show. The readers' forum, at Jurys, was a ticket-only affair that couldn't accommodate everyone. O'Brien, then the crosswords editor, recalls being outside the hotel, armed with a list of 400-plus names, trying to keep ticketless fans at bay.

"Crosaire fans pay homage to their guru," was the headline on Sean MacConnell's report on the event in this newspaper. As a Simplex man, MacConnell "sat in awe, watching Crosaire creator Derek Crozier communicate with his fans. The event was a milestone on the road to an even deeper understanding of the incredible complexity of human behaviour. For two solid hours in the ballroom of Jurys Hotel in Dublin, he fielded question after question from his followers, including five people who had been coping with Crosaire crosswords since the first one was published, 50 years ago."

Crozier says: "I suppose it would be vanishingly improbable that anyone would have been with me since the beginning, but it would be intriguing to know how far back some people have gone."

Robert Laird of Clontarf just about qualifies. He has been filling Crosaire blocks for 59 years. "It keeps me nimble," he chuckles, and it stirs a bit of chat at weekends when the family gathers, he says.

Una O'Hagan of RTÉ's 6.01 News describes Crosaire as a "challenging and most enjoyable routine, and without it I'd feel that part of the day was missing". It all started when Eamonn Lawlor still worked in the RTÉ newsroom, about six or seven years ago. "He was the expert who gave me the key and generously helped me to get started." She holds off until after the noon bells before starting to fill in the grid. "I'm afraid that if I start too early I'll finish too early - silly, really, because I never do it that fast."

John Cassidy, a retired teacher from Derry who won last year's Christmas competition, uses Crosaire most days to "keep the brain cells active". Try the Crosaire and "use your brain", Kay Scott gently suggested to her friend Mary Gallagher almost 20 years ago. Last week Mary confessed: "It's a fix I have to have every day." Luckily, it's an addiction shared by her husband, Seamus, in their Foxrock home every afternoon, and it's a worthwhile fix that earned her first prize in the 2001 Christmas competition.

Dave Robins, who began his habit almost a quarter of a century ago, and his wife, Joe, are another couple who do the crossword by committee. "Doing the Crosaire is very social. We generally work on it together over dinner. Sometimes, when we're driving from Castlerea in Co Roscommon to Dublin, Joe reads out the clues and we'll talk it through."

And these are just a handful of loyal fans who revel in the mechanics of solving Crosaire: the conventions, anagrams, synonyms, homophones and palindromes. How about this one: Stout LP, hopeful jewel, sounds like young computerised boy at the London crossroads, slangily (5,6)?