The Anonymous Widower

Only The Irish!

I love Ireland and the Irish.  My father always claimed that there was an Irish ancestor in our blood, but I’ve never found them, amongst a real mixture, of which any London mongrel would be proud.

In July 1990, our horse, Vague Shot, travelled to Ireland to run in the McGrath Stakes in the Irish Derby meeting at the Curragh. He was second and that paid the expenses of the trip. The Derby though was unusual that year in that Hamdam Al Maktoum’s filly, Salsabil, was attempting to defeat the colts. I remember that I flew myself, C and a friend, Gillian, over in my Cessna 340A to the main Dublin Airport.

I think we had lunch at the Regans close to the course andTadey and Moira came with us to the races in the afternoon. I remember that Tadey helped saddle Vague Shot and the horse duly delivered. I also remember C and Moira having a bet on Belmez in the Derby at outrageous each-way odds. When Salsabil won, they couldn’t find the ticket as their selection had been third, but Moira talked the Tote into paying out anyway.

So we had had a good day on the hospitality, racing and betting fronts.

We then left to go back to the airport in our hire car. Normally, this was an easy journey of about an hour, but as we approached the airport, the traffic had slowed to a crawl and people were parking on the roadside and running towards the airport. In the end we did the same and after half-an-hour we had dumped the keys with the car hire company and had walked to the general aviation terminal.

I asked what was going on only to be told, that the Irish team were returning from the 1990 World Cup and that Dublin had also given Nelson Mandela the freedom of the city. Only the Irish would organise three major events on the same day. But I think they had a great party!

There were people running about all over the airport hoping to greet the footballers on their return, so taxiing the aircraft was difficult and in some ways a bit dangerous for the trespassers.  In the end however, we scraped out of the airport almost in the dark and delivered Gillian to Stansted. The terminal was all locked up, so what about security? Finally, we arrived at Ipswich and went home for supper.

July 14, 2010 - Posted by | Sport, Transport | , , , ,

1 Comment »

  1. […] Balloon. It was good to meet him after all those years since his father helped saddle Vague Shot in 1990.  He’s grown a lot and I’ve got a lot more decrepit.  But as his father, Tadey, […]

    Pingback by Two Shows Yesterday « The Anonymous Widower | August 14, 2010 | Reply


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