Car-boot commune spare no expense

We’ve spoken before in these pages about the earthiness of those who go to Clonmel every year for the annual National Coursing Meeting, of how grounded they are in nature, how self-sufficient.

During the regular season they’ll go from Trial Stake to Trial Stake, to places where the facilities are first, last and foremost for the hares and the hounds, and where the humans are expected to look after themselves.

These events last for several hours, from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, and for all of those hours you’re on your feet, exposed to the elements. The break then, when it comes, is a special time; some will go to the mobile chipper, most head for the car-boot, for the flask and the sandwiches.

Clonmel though is different. Here you have the stands, cover from the elements for those who arrive early enough; here also you have the likes of Masterchefs Hospitality serving up a selection of more upmarket mobile grub.

Yet still people head for the car-boots. Every day, however, the largest crowd of all heads for a couple of cars parked at the back end of the dog-owners’ car-park. Why? Well that’s where Brendan Murphy and his father Christy are parked, alongside the Quinlan family, and by now in Clonmel the word has spread. The food is special, yes, a buffet lunch you’d pay dearly for anywhere else, but it’s the company, the camaraderie, the communion.

“I was raised on this,” Brendan explains, “When I was a young fella we used to come here every year and it was the very same then as it is now. The sandwiches, the salads, the tea and coffee, they all came out of the boots of the cars, everyone pooled in and shared with one another. The Quinlans, the Spratts, the Mackeys – John and Mrs. Mackey were still there then – that’s where all this started.”

Oh it’s an impressive spread, a truly impressive spread, but Brendan dismisses any credit for the quality of the fare on offer, the platters of seafood, cold meats, salads etc, or the cost of same. “Sure cost doesn’t come into it – if you were looking only at the cost of things nowadays you wouldn’t even get up in the morning! It’s very easy for me now, we own the Horse & Hound hotel in Ballinaboola (near New Ross) and the staff would have all the food ready for us in the morning, all we have to do is load it into the car and on we come, so I can’t claim that much credit for it.” As for the hot whiskeys and hot ports – “That comes out of someone else’s car! Everyone does their piece – it’s a routine at this stage.”

It’s a hive, is what it is, and within minutes of the break Jim Quinlan’s improvised table has been set and the influx starts. “This is why I love Clonmel,” says Christy. “Meeting all the old friends – that’s what it’s all about, this little community. We started doing this over 30 years ago and it’s gone on and on – a lot of old friends, like Jim Spratt and Andy Hughes, Michael Heeney and his daughter Eimear — they’re from Louth and they’re here with us every year; you have the Buckleys from Cork, old friends, but we’re also meeting new people all the time. People will ask me – how did you get to know so-and-so? Clonmel, that’s how.”

What puzzles both Brendan and his father, however, is the lack of coverage that the National Coursing Meeting gets, on television especially. “I think they’re a little bit asleep,” says Brendan; “Minority sports are almost ignored by the likes of RTE and TV3, and I don’t know why.” Given that his daughter Gráinne, a swimmer, has qualified for the Olympics later this year, yet could still walk down any street in Ireland and probably remain unrecognised, Brendan knows whereof he speaks. “Do we really want to see soccer every day of the week?” he asks, but the question is rhetorical. “I heard a lot of people today here discussing a documentary they saw last night about the contribution of the Irish to Australia – that’s the kind of thing we need, a bit of variety. We DON’T need to see the same thing every day. For months before Clonmel the various Trial Stakes are big events in their own areas, yet there’s no coverage. The Corn na Féile in Abbeyfeale every year, a huge event, ignored; the Irish Cup in a few weeks’ time, a massive prize-fund, same thing. Very little coverage nationally, apart from the Irish Examiner.”

No matter, and in a way coursing is better off away from the glare, away from those who would never understand. The car-boot commune, what better medium do you need?