SPORTING PASSIONS: DAIRE O'BRIEN:I SUPPOSE I would have been considered a bit of a floating voter when it came to sport, in keeping with most children who had an interest. I grew up playing rugby and tennis and must admit to being a mad Liverpool supporter.

The one that got away funnily enough was GAA at that point in my life, a situation that would change dramatically in the 1990s when the hurling revolution gripped me in a practical way.

Growing up in Cork, hurling and football were literally on the doorstep, but it wasn’t until I reached my twenties that I fully embraced the national sports.

Even then, it wouldn’t have been an all-encompassing passion, but rather a particular devotion to the Munster hurling and football finals. I could see the effect it had on friends and acquaintances and wanted to experience that myself.

I was mesmerised by the huge passion and sense of occasion; as a spectacle it became something I didn’t want to miss, even though I wouldn’t have known a corner forward from a wing back.

I played rugby while attending CBC Cork and would have attended several internationals during that time and one that I would recall with particular fondness was the 1991 World Cup quarter-final at Lansdowne Road when Ireland came within a whisker of upsetting the eventual champions, Australia.

In university, the sport lost a little of its appeal for me and it was only when Munster began to be successful in the Heineken Cup that I rediscovered that passion.

There were so many aspects that I enjoyed, from the expression of your identity, not in a hugely overt or in-your-face manner, but simply in delighting at the achievements – a team of the people, for the people.

There is a very strong bond there between players and supporters and success certainly doesn’t hurt the relationship.

Commensurate with my passion for rugby is a passion for losing money and that brings me to what would be my ideal day in a sporting context, one that I get to live out every year.

It’s usually a dry, cold morning that begins with a train journey to Kilkenny embellished by a first-class upgrade that allows for a big fried breakfast.

It’s certainly the most important meal of the day when your next port of call is Tynan’s, arriving just after midday and supping a couple of pints before jumping in a taxi and heading for Gowran Park to take in the Thyestes Chase. That Thursday afternoon is the closest you get to adult dossing and feels wonderfully illicit in terms of breaking from work.

Gowran is a genuinely country racetrack, far enough away from the Dublin border. I have lived in the capital city for 23 years and really enjoy it, but this day out is rendered all the more enjoyable because of the country experience.

The racing is always good and the place isn’t mobbed. You can keep your Curragh and Derby day. When it’s all over and surrounded by a tidy pile of betting slips there is the warm comfort of the trip back to Kilkenny, a city that’s perfectly appointed with its bars and restaurants for post-racing revelry. It’s also about the people that you meet there.

It’s a nice social occasion without the threat of someone like VIP magazine photographer fawning over the race-goers. I’d also concede to a great passion for golf as a spectator sport and I suppose, if I am honest, a route for financial investment.

Sergio Garcia owes me big time. I backed him on the two occasions that he finished second to Pádraig Harrington in the British Open (2007) and the US PGA Championship (2008).

I recall racing to the home of a friend in Wexford with my wife and son to experience the final holes of the Open at Carnoustie. I wanted my son to experience the sense of history in seeing an Irishman win a major while at the same time monitoring an investment I dared not mention to anyone else there.

Through gritted teeth I was willing Harrington on while at the same time realising that his victory would cost me a five-figure sum. I must be the world’s worst gambler because I quickly realised that in my marrow I was rooting for Harrington, unable to remain dispassionate and putting cash before patriotism.

I have lost any love for soccer, which I think is on a par with wrestling for its purity of endeavour and instead would much prefer to watch GAA or rugby where you watch talented sportsmen give everything on behalf of their county or country.