Irish Travel & Stud Fees

Car On Pig's Back At Midnight

One day on a by-road on our way to Castlecomer he asked me to stop in a sunken patch.  He said he had been driving along there about midnight after a very hot day.   A big pig had chosen the warm road to lie there and fall asleep.   Mick never saw any pig but suddenly found himself being shuffled around in his car as it's exhaust was burning the back of a poor pig.  The screams brought five or six strong men from neighbouring houses.   Fortunately they soon managed to lift the car and rescue both Mick and the pig. 

When we got to the town we stopped at the "Grand Bar" as was usual for me whenever I was near it.  It belonged to Paddy Dunphy one of the biggest names among the world's greyhound personalities. Paddy inherited his love of hounds from his father Nicholas.   (Grand was the prefix he used in naming his saplings in the Stud book.) I introduced Mick to Paddy and their meeting was celebrated with a glass of Red Breast.  When he welcomed us Paddy asked if we had time to inspect his pups.  This was one of those unanswerable questions.  On the last jaunt through three counties we did not get back 'till 2am and he had to find me a bed for what was left of the night.  We visited three farms in Kilkenny, two in Wexford and one in Waterford. Whenever a poor man came to have a good bitch mated to one of Paddy's dogs he would not be turned away.  Paddy was never greedy --- if there were six or more pups at six weeks old he would take two.  If she had only four he would take one but if she had less he wanted none.   He knew farmers he could trust to rear them well on condition that they would toss for first choice at twelve months old. 

I remember a funny scene one day when the three of us returned to the Grand Bar after visiting pups on several farms in four counties.  We were all really hungry when Paddy opened the oven and removed two big turkeys and started carving them.  Mick had a happy grin on his face as he sat salivating while Paddy put the carvings into two big bowls.  Paddy left the kitchen and Mick was sure that he had gone to get the plates, knives and forks.  He was dumfounded when Paddy walked in with his two stud dogs, the Grand Champion and the Grand Genius!!

In those days earnings from stud dogs were modest and fair.  When Tanist won the first Derby that I saw in 1940 his British owner Arthur Probert ( father of Terry who worked for Coral bookmakers) advertised him at a fee of 20 guineas.  (Before that only Waterloo Cup winners commanded so much).  Fees have since been creeping up every year.   Service by a Derby winner may now cost £2,000 or more!    One straw from a Track Record breaker who sustains an injury which demands two months rest may cost a breeder a £1,000.  Why should the lucky owner be worried whether the dog recovers or not ?

 

1940 Derby Winner Tanist

This 66 lbs dog also proved his pace and stamina on the coursing field at Clounana.

He was bred by Father Browne and trained by Bill Quinn of Killenaule.

 



Boxers and Film Stars

There are other sports in which people get injured the most obviously being boxing.  My Dad hated professional boxing because of the prevelance of brain damage but when I went to the veterinary college he advised me to join Pat Mulcany's gym, wear head gear and learn how to protect myself.   There I met the Ingle lads who were all involved in amateur boxing.  Two of them worked in the college laboratory and stables.  I became friendly with Jimmy the eldest of the popular family. After I qualified and came to Britain I was glad to hear that he had won bouts as a professional.  One day nearly twenty years later a client from Luton brought me a greyhound with a broken leg.  He also had a friend in his van.   I was so engrossed in getting the dog on to a stretcher and into position for the X-ray machine that I never recognised the friend as Jimmy until I had examined the film.    After I reduced the fracture we had much to talk about.

While I was a student the most famous boxer I got to know was Jack Doyle.   He was born in Cork in 1913.   At the age of sixteen he joined the Irish Guards and was stationed in south Wales where he learned to box.   He was six foot four and attracted attention wherever he went.   He won his first ten fights within two rounds by knocking his opponents out.      It was not just other boxers who came to watch him.  His good looks brought women to see him and to hear his melodious volice.  They were not bothered about his fights ending quickly; they learned that he would not leave the ring without entertaining them with a song.  Jack went on a tour of the United States to resurrect his career.  Jack retained his interest in singing and being matched fot fights but lost the will for the hard training involved in keeping fit. 

He did win a couple of minor bouts before being matched with Buddy Baer  (younger brother of the champion Max Baer) for a substantial purse.  He was knocked out in the first round.   When he returned he had got a taste for fine wine and had lost his focus on training.  His brilliant career was halted at White City in 1933 when he met the future Heavyweight Champion Jack Peterson.   Sadly for his growing number of fans he was disqualified for hitting below the belt.  He met Eddie Phillips in '38 at Harringway and lost again.  His fans still retained faith in him and when he met Phillips again at White City before war broke out  60,000 people came to see him one more time.  Once again he let them get home early after a song.

It was 1941 when I first met him.  I was in digs in Lower Mount Street.  The house was on the right hand side of the street leading to Blackrock.  The landlady was Miss Kerr and she kept five or six students.  For twenty six shillings a week she gave us a warm bed, breakfast and dinner.  I was not there long before we had surprising lodgers ----- none other than the 'Gorgeous Gael' Jack Doyle himself and wife Movita who had starred with Clark Gabel in 'Mutiny on The Bounty'.  The other students were shy about speaking to such illustrious names.   I spoke to them and soon developed a friendship.   After a few days while I was polishing my shoes Jack asked me if I would do theirs.   They were a bit muddy after a walk in Phoenix Park.   I had to wash them first and leave them by the fire for a few hours before I could hope to get a shine on them.   When I returned them next morning they were delighted that they looked new again.  Of course they were not half as delighted as I was when Movita gave me £5.  I remember Jack being persauded to try and get himself in condition for one last fight at Dalymount Park in 1942 but he was far from fit and did not last the first round.  However the crowd went home happy because he sang three songs.  After appearing on stage at the Theatre Royal in Dublin Jack and Movita went on a tour of Ireland and drew big crowds in many country towns.

While I was doing locums for British vets in 1947 I read in an Irish paper that the famous couple were among the record crowd at the Clark Cup coursing meeting.  Herewith the picture by courtesy of my friend Ann Marie O'Brien of the Greyhound and Sporting Press at Clonmel.  I must mention another true friend who writes for this newspaper.  He is the highly respected Gerry McCarthy.  There has been no greater authority in the greyhound world since the death of Edwards Clarke in Britain.  Gerry and his charming wife, Kay, had serious illnesses in the last year and everyone in greyhound sport wishes them a complete recovery.

Jack moved back to London and I lost touch with him until 1953.   One day I had a runner at Park Royal.   The R.M. told me in the weighing room that an old friend was upstairs and was looking forward to seeing me.   When I asked for his name he said with a smile  “He hasn’t changed and you’ll know him when you go in the bar.” I guessed it might be Jack.  I was right and he had the same old habits.   He did not offer me a drink so I knew he was skint.   Whenever he was in the money in our days in Mount Street he was generous whenever he was in funds.   The dog won the race and I had to stand Jack another drink.  I cant remember the dogs name but I know that his dam was Angie's Abbey.  I had bought her and her brother, Abbeyduff for small money because the dog had no tail.  It was thought that he was not able to turn.  In fact he was a close railer and he also won me a cup at a coursing meeting in Waterford.

Yesterday's National

Yesterday I wished good luck to the forty jockeys in the Grand National.    Today I would like to start by congratulating the winning trainer and jockey.   I was not surprised that Auroras Encore looked trained to perfection.  When Ted Williams was the most famous name in show jumping I remember him telling me that the young man from Yorkshire called  Harvey Smith would soon be champion.    For selecting a  new jockey I cannot think of a couple better qualified than Harvey and his wife Sue.   I also imagine they would have felt confident that Ryan Mania would have been well tutored  during his time with Howard Johnson.

I have sympathy with those who lost more than they could afford on the fancied losers.   They will not be pleased.   But racing is here to stay and they will be back.   I imagine there were also others who were tempted to have a few pounds on the big outsiders.  Those who won got something worth collecting, enjoyed the thrill and will surely come again.

I hope that Ryan Mania and any other jockeys who may have been injured make a speedy recovery.

National Memories

This is the week that brings a recurrence of an event which first happened in 1839.  My Dad had been interested in it all his life but sadly never saw it.  In 1927 when he heard that it was going to be broadcast he bought a wet battery radio.  I think it was the only one in our parish of Cloughaneely and the neighbours came from miles around to listen in to the GRAND NATIONAL.   When our kitchen filled up Dad opened the window so that the throng outside could hear the commentary.  The name of the winner was Sprig.  I remember that among the many I have forgotten.  The race became more popular all over the world as the years went by.  It was televised for the first time in 1960 and won by a horse called Merryman II.  Television exposed it to millions of people most of whom had never known a horse.  Of course the odd fall in which a jockey or horse was injured invited criticism.  It mainly came from people who had never taken the risk or enjoyed the thrill of riding a horse over a fence, climbed our highest mountains, flown a plane at the speed of sound, seen the bottom of our deep seas or stepped on another planet!  I don't object to fair criticism but there is no place or justification for the word 'ban' in a liberal society.  We recently saw the result of the infamous and loathsome legislation suffered by foxes and hares.  They used to get a natural and quick death in the jaws of hounds.  Now many thousands die a painful lingering death in snares or traps or from infection or gangrene resulting from pellets in their rear ends fired by poor marksman.

The late Dick Saunders on Grittar '82 National winner.

I have studied the mind of horses.  I am sure that they enjoy racing.  I grew up among people who love and are dependant on them.  We were proud of Vincent O'Brien and his jockeys Bryan Marshall and Pat Taffe, of Arkle fame  for their three victories with Early Mist in '53, Royal Tan in '54 and Quare Times in '55.  I was at Aintree to see Quare Times win and had never seen such a celebration.   I also attended the  National in '58 to see Mr What, in '65 to see Jay Trump and in '70 to see Gay Trip ridden by Pat Taffe.  The most amazing of my memories is of Red Rum trained by the late Ginger McCain.  He won in '73 & '74 ridden by Brian Fletcher and again in '77 under the great Tommy Stack.  I went to Aintree for the last time in '82 to see my friend Dick Saunders win on Grittar.  Dick was the oldest jockey ever to ride the winner.
Watching Mick Fitzgerald win it on Rough Quest in '96 made me regret that I was not there to join in the celebration with the brilliant trainer Terry Casey.  When he had so much to give to his family and to racing poor Terry died a cruel death all too soon afterwards.   He grew up only thirty miles from me and I had some great meals at his Rosapenna Hotel.

For the experience of the unique event I took  Jane and our three boys,  Denise Judge and Sheila Evans our loyal staff in the house and kennels and dear friends like John McConnell, Bill Dickens, Bill and Nuala Mannion, John & Creagh Black and John Brammar our Dental friend.  On two occasions, we watched the race from the Canal Turn because it afforded a close view of three of the jumps and on all the other days we were close to Beachers Brook.  With my camera I got a few good shots of a horse in the air.   They include one of Grittar which I still have - somewhere.