Shattered dreams and a heartwarming tale of courage

ANOTHER day for the diehards in Clonmel yesterday, another Arctic morning of hard frost and heavy snow; spring, yes, but this was a reminder of what this sport can be like in darkest winter, an occasion on which finery is only for the birds and the uninitiated – this was a day for all the heaviest underwear and outerwear you could muster.

On his resplendent high horse, judge Tom Lawler was best attired, by far, and best protected – “This is the cloak the mounted police wear in England,” he explained. “I bought it over there around 1989, it’s the only one of its kind in Ireland, and it’s perfect for this job.” So is Mr. Lawler, let it be said.

The thousands who again braved the conditions arrived in good time, only to walk into a couple of dreaded announcements on the omnipresent PA system. The first was a cause for universal concern - “The first course has been suspended for half an hour, until 12 o’clock, at which time the stewards will decide whether the field is fit for coursing.” Could it be that the whole thing will be called off, a whole day wasted? Didn’t work out like that, thank God.