FROM THE ARCHIVES:THE RACEHORSE Shergar is now best remembered for being kidnapped and killed by the IRA in 1983 but his prowess on the race track in winning the Irish Derby in 1981 just after his victory in the Epsom Derby was celebrated by Sam McAughtry.
I PUT it to you that Shergar, winner on Saturday of the Irish Sweeps Derby, is a punter returned to earth in the shape of a horse. Not only that, I’m nearly sure I knew the punter. His name was Davy something and he worked as a boilerman on the Antrim Road in 1949.
Shergar’s great-great- granddam was Diableretta, the flying filly that won seven on the trot in that year. Davy and I emptied ever make we had on Diableretta every time it appeared, until the point was reached where I had the shakes from the drinking and Davy was neary killed with the old ulcer. We were actually glad to see Diableretta disappearing to stud the next year. In the middle of the winning streak, Davy and I were sitting in the bar talking about life after death. “If I ever come back,” he said, “it’ll be as a horse, a racehorse.” “Oh,” says I, “and why is that?” “First of all for the glory of winning,” he said, “but most of all for the stud carry on afterwards.”
Davy went to earn his just reward some yers later, but I always remembered that conversation, and isn’t it a strange thing that the great-great-grand-daughter of Diableretta should have done the punters so many good turns? For, bear in mind that, although the article itself was unbackable at the Curragh on Saturday, it was followed home by Cut Above, one of the favourites to run second, at the very sweet price of 3/1.
And I’m going to tell you better than that. Round about the three furlong marker, when Shergar, ridden by old High Hips himself, Lester Piggott, drew up to Cut Above, I’m prepared to walk into a witness box and swear that Shergar said something to Cut Above. Out of the side of its mouth, the way wee Davy used to talk. Then, of course, the usual happened: Cut Above and all the other hopefuls found themselves looking up Shergar’s afterburner.
But, the important thing is that Cut Above was second. So, the punters had their cake and ate it. They were able to cheer themselves hoarse for Shergar, and prance merrily down to the bookies for a money transfusion. Surely, there’s more than horsiness at work there. Some day, when Cut Above’s jockey, Willie Carson, retires, the true story of that conversation between the two horses will be known, until then, I rest my case. It’s going to take one hell of an advocate to shake my belief that Shergar is the finest middle-distance boilerman that European racing has ever seen. Don’t forget the link with Diableretta.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Curragh scene was nice and stylish. I walked up to Noelle Gannon from Tallaght, and I told her she was looking lovely in her salmon pink frock, slightly paler hat, and tiny veil. That’s the sort of day I was having. I went into the Moet and Chandon Champagne Bar just to savour the Great Gatsbyness of it all. I chatted to Doreen Swinburn, mother of young Walter, who lost the ride on the Derby winner because of over-enthusiasm at Ascot, and I expressed my sympathy. “As long as the horse won, we don’t mind,” Doreen told me. Everybody seemed to be in that charitable mood.
Leaving Mrs. Swinburn, I bowed to Mlle. Laurent Bozo, from a well-respected French racing family. “Vous etes looking smashing,” I told her, playing the host and using her own language; 22-year-old Laurent seemed surprised at my fluency. But, the day belonged to Shergar, or Davy, whichever you wish. It’s the King George VI next, and then, I suppose it’ll be stud. It must be nice to see an ambition realised.
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