The backstretch: Churchill Downs's famous twin spires point hopefully to the dawn. It's 6 a.m., still dark and already the sand on the backstretch of America's most famous racetrack is being pounded by the incessant feet of some of the world's finest bloodstock. Even for those of us who usually view a 9 a.m. start as getting up in the middle of the night, it's a remarkable rhythm. Especially since it's so familiar but yet so different.

The dynamics of keeping a racehorse fit are pretty standard the world over, but on America's backstretch the sounds are the thing. "Jesus, I'd sure like to be on what they're feedin' that mother," says a Bob Marley lookalike, admiringly, as he pushes a barrow full of steaming horse shit through the barn area next to the track.

The subject of his admiration is a black colt who has reared on to his hind legs and is balancing precariously, for what seems an age, with a grinning work rider on his back.

"Hey, what you feedin' him?" shouts `Bob.'

Perched on his half-ton rocking horse, the work rider never misses a beat. "Total goddam talent, man. Just total goddam talent!"

The casual ease of Louisville's backstretch is such that even the admirably informal way of going about things in Ireland looks like something out of a Trappist monastery. Maybe it's because all the horses are trained at the track and the work place is the same for everyone, but there is a familiarity between even the lowest shoveller and the multi-million dollar winning trainer.

Sure there is a respectful line, but it's one that makes Maginot's look straight. The proper perspective is kept on what is a deadly serious business.

This afternoon the world's richest day's racing takes place. Over $12 million will be fought over in just seven races. Up to 80,000 spectators will pack into the stands to watch, while 210 television stations in 63 countries will pick up NBC's pictures. Hell, even Mauritania is taking pictures.

It's the Breeders' Cup, and it's huge. Not that `Bob' gives a curse about that. Staring at manure for a living tends to concentrate the mind, but as the English-trained favourite for the $1 million Mile, Desert Prince, took a tentative step on to the unfamiliar dirt, even `Bob' could be heard saying: "Now that is a fine lookin' animal."

Maybe today there will be an echo from Mauritania. A good horse is a good horse in anyone's language.

The cameras: The Breeders' Cup Ltd's primary objective is baldly set out in its handbook. To build positive public awareness of Thoroughbred racing and to expand opportunities for the enhancement of the Thoroughbred Industry. It doesn't say it, but in brackets afterwards could be added "in America". International competition is welcome, but this is an American deal.

The stands will be packed today, but on Wednesday, in the heart of blue grass country and in Breeders' Cup week, the same massive stands were all but deserted. The racing wasn't particularly exciting, but the place had the air of a gigantic betting shop with the same mixture of the old, the furtive and those with nothing else better to do.

The Breeders' Cup started 15 years ago to jazz things up and everyone is doing their bit. None more so than the trainers. Big prizemoney means big competition which means the media circus has descended on Churchill Downs. A ravenous horde eager for the snappy soundbite are being accommodated royally.

Bob Baffert is the trainer of Silver Charm, favourite for today's most valuable race, the 10-furlong classic which could be worth more than $5 million in total. Camera after camera has been pointed at the white-haired former salesman and all have left happy.

"Silver Charm is such a great horse, he makes up for all my training disabilities," he gushes. A big awwww and the assorted lenses mist up with happiness.

A mass huddle around the connections of the superstar Gentleman reveals the owner spinning a coin over which race to run in. "Heads. It's the classic boys," he grins. A frivolous piece of hokum, stylishly done. A hack could get to like it here.

Racing's Ryder Cup: The principle of the whole thing may be to promote the game in America, but there is no denying the fun in edge. And the edge of the Breeders' Cup comes from the intercontinental rivalry.

Forget the brothers-in-arms stuff, there is a kick in one of "ours" beating "theirs". And don't think the locals don't feel the same. After being told that Henry Cecil's Turf favourite Royal Anthem has had just five races in his life, one local press box worthy proclaimed: "What is this horse, a pussy?"

Cue suitable European indignation, but the honour of our more "prissy" racing is not under constant attack, according to Michael Dickinson, Cheltenham Gold Cup winner in the past and now based in America.

"There is a lot of respect for the European horses here. There are those on both sides who think their horses are better, but I've studied it closely over the past 10 years, I hope impartially, and the figures turn out pretty much standard.

"A horse like Hawksley Hill (Mile) has improved a lot since coming over here, but a King George winner like Kings Theatre had a record of zero from six when he raced in the US. It balances out. And Americans are well able to see the big picture. A good horse is a good horse. It doesn't matter where it comes from," says Dickinson.

Quite so, but still there is that edge. It's racing's annual version of golf's Ryder Cup, but with better manners. Shouts of "you da man" don't rattle speeding racehorses quite as much as some mercurial golfers, but happily Dickinson thinks the shouts could have a European tinge this time.

"There is strength, quality and depth in every race this time," he says in his measured way. Cue smug anticipation. Maybe da man will be on our side.

The Expat: The edge is there, but it only takes a brief walk around the Churchill Downs barn area to put it in perspective. `Langer' may mean blond German in golf, but in Cork terms it means something singularly different.

When it is used as a greeting in Churchill Downs a person starts to think about whether jet lag has set in. But really it just shows how small the racing world is becoming. Niall O'Callaghan may be one of the top young trainers in Louisville, but he steadfastly remains a son of Castletownkennigh in West Cork.

Even O'Callaghan's French head man, Francois, is married to a girl from St Luke's in Cork city. The only thing missing in Louisville, Kentucky, is some drisheen and a few pints of Beamish.

O'Callaghan, who formerly worked for Jim Bolger and the late Paddy Prendergast, doesn't have a Cup contender this year, but is fascinating as regards the American and European claims for racing supremacy.

"The standard of training in Europe and here is pretty similar. It's just that we face more obstacles because of training on the hard dirt tracks. The top jockeys compare in ability, too. Sometimes the American boys laugh when they see the Europeans because they view the style as rough, but really it's about adjusting to the terrain. The top guys, like Piggott or Shoemaker, never had problems adjusting.

"I would say that the top European horses have about a 3-5lb edge on the turf, but it's impossible to compare dirt and grass horses. It's like comparing apples and oranges," he says.

For O'Callaghan, differences come in attitude. "Trainers possibly put themselves on more of a pedestal in Europe. Here things tend to be more camaraderie. We compete like crazy, but it's not do or die. Everybody witnesses the knocks this game can give first hand in the barn area so I guess it teaches a little humility," Callaghan says.

The Visitors: Sunshine Street canters past, moving easily within himself and exuding ruddy good health. He for one isn't aware of his 50/1 outsider status in the Turf Race and Johnny Murtagh appears not to give a whit either.

"This is the ultimate event isn't it," Murtagh grins. The Irish champion jockey won the Mile on his only previous Cup start and isn't totally ruling out maintaining his 100 per cent record.

On a cold morning on an easy moving horse, everything seems possible. "That ground is firm and that is what he wants. The way I see it we have only a length and a half to make up on Royal Anthem and he's 15/8 while we're 50/1. I think we have more than an outside chance," he adds.

Second Empire is regarded as having a more obvious chance of giving Ireland a third Breeders' Cup success in the Mile. In the midst of the bustle of the backstretch, the priority with Second Empire is keeping him relaxed and it seems to be working. However, the latent `gas' in the colt is still evident when he canters on the turf track.

Michael Kinane's unenviable job today is to channel that gas. Aidan O'Brien has brought his typical professionalism to the task, but this is his first Breeders' Cup runner and he has been impressed by the atmosphere.

"It's amazing around here. Everyone is close together and Second Empire seems to be very well," says the youthful Master of Ballydoyle, whose reputation has preceded him.

"This O'Brien guy, what's he like," has been a persistent question.

Aidan has been trying to keep a typically low profile, but if Second Empire wins then the media horde will descend. The problems presented by Second Empire and his hair-trigger temperament will seem like the fluttering of butterfly wings compared to that. Something to look forward to!

The Clash: What really can be looked forward to is the seven races. The Breeders' Cup is after all a unique event where the top horses from two continents take each other on in depth.

Maybe the rivalry bit is over-hyped, but it's fun. And that's the same for everyone. The Breeders' Cup may illustrate certain differences between the two sides of the pond, but mostly it shows the common thread. After all a good horse is a good horse in anyone's language. When it comes to good horses, the Breeders Cup' is the world language.