The small group of teenagers in the canteen of Cian O'Connor's Karlswood stables were watching a champion's prediction come true, writes Frank McNally, in Ashbourne.
"He went out there saying he was going to win a medal and he was as good as his word," said student rider Shane Mulligan (15), eyes glued to the television as the medal ceremony began.
He and the others wore jodhpurs and boots and the dust of a day's equestrian studies, but as O'Connor mounted the rostrum, they applauded like they were in the VIP box in Athens.
When the Irish anthem sounded, you could sense them wondering whether to stand to attention. They decided against. But when tears rolled down the gold medallist's face, the television viewers were moved too. "Ah, fair dues to him," said Shane.
Outside the canteen, a solitary young rider walked her mount around a parade ring, apparently oblivious to the excitement.
Earlier, three miles away in the Rolestown Inn, the moment also passed some people by. In the noisy bar area, the larger of two televisions - the one with volume - showed racing from Bath.
The showjumping was relegated to a 12-in silent screen, under which a man jokingly (or perhaps not) suggested switching over to Emmerdale.
When O'Connor's turn came to jump, there were appeals for silence for the "over the road boy". But as his clear round neared its gripping climax, an unseen hand pressed an unseen remote control and changed channels. Amid laughter and recriminations, the remote was located.
So - eventually - was RTÉ, but by then O'Connor's round was over and a red-coated Belgian rider had replaced him in the ring. "He's changed his jacket," suggested a wag in the corner.
Around the corner in the lounge, a group of more respectful drinkers were recalling how the young show-jumper lost his jacket on the eve of the Olympics.
"His car was stolen the night before he left - with the coat in it, but he got it back. He was wearing it there tonight," said one man.
Nobody in the Rolestown Inn could say they knew him. "He doesn't drink or smoke - you wouldn't see him in here much," suggested a woman. "He comes in for his dinner sometimes, but he'd take it away on a plate - he's always working," said someone else.
With two left to go and O'Connor guaranteed a bronze medal, there was short-lived regret for Jessica Kuerten's misfortunes and then the delayed realisation that the over-the-road boy had been promoted to silver.
As Britain's Nick Skelton started his round, the tension in the lounge was heightened slightly by the presence of an elderly English couple having dinner.
They were either too polite or indifferent though to cheer for Skelton and when the latter's mistakes turned the moment gold for Ireland, they smiled as broadly as everybody else.