It hardly seems two years since the excitement of Cian O'Connor's Olympic homecoming at Dublin airport, writes Frank McNally. An excitement that reached fever pitch when Equestrian Federation president Avril Doyle, appealing for more sponsorship of show-jumpers, issued corporate Ireland with an invitation to "mount our athletes". It was a thrilling moment for all of us who were there, but especially for the sponsors.
Has ever a sport fallen so far so fast in the public estimation? Two Dublin Horse Shows on, swamp fever and the threat of super-league relegation seem to be the least of Irish showjumping's problems. The sport appears riven with factions and populated by egos that get upset more easily than the top poles of fences at the RDS. If anyone is in danger of being mounted these days, it's the members of the public who pay in to cheer our jumpers on.
An indirect victim of the multiple controversies has been that best-selling writer of horsey novels, Dick Francis. Those of us who have never got around to reading him probably never will now, because his reputation as an author of imaginative fiction has suffered badly as a result of events in Irish showjumping during the past two years. The consensus is that he couldn't have made most of the stuff up.
Someone who could have made it up was Jonathan Swift. In Gulliver's Travels, he famously has his hero visit a land run by horses. The Houyhnhnms (pronounced whin-hin-hems) are portrayed as a highly intelligent race presiding over a calm, ordered society. Theirs is a world in which everything is based on reason, the common good supersedes any concept of individuality, and there is no word for "lie". The Houyhnhnms are contrasted starkly with a savage humanoid underclass called the Yahoos.
Of course, these were products of Swift's wild imagination and bear no relation to real life. But I was encouraged to read yesterday that Moscow Flyer, the former champion steeplechaser, is now acting as a "roving ambassador" for the Irish Horse Welfare Trust.
I'm sure he's very busy with his diplomatic career, and it probably leaves time for little else. But it seems to me that he would be ideally qualified to chair an inquiry into the state of showjumping. If nothing else, maybe he could take people aside and talk sense into them.
Staying on a broad yahoo theme, is it not time that GAA supporters from the other 31 counties challenged the Dublin stranglehold on Croke Park's Hill 16? We will see the latter phenomenon again this weekend, and commentators will again tell us what a "colourful" scene it presents (ignoring how much more colourful it would be if there were a few Westmeath flags there). But how long more will non-Dubs tolerate a situation that breaches EU competition rules, Equality Authority guidelines, and - probably - the Good Friday agreement? Yes, I know Dublin fans are numerous, especially now the weather has improved, and that their opponents often come from under-populated areas of the country. Indeed, such is the Dubs' commercial power that the GAA would probably concede any demands they made as a group, up to and including the release of all prisoners.
Non-Dubs also share some blame for preserving the monopoly. A culchie with a Hill 16 ticket will usually exchange it for one in the stand, reckoning that a seat and the greatly reduced chance of having his leg urinated on during the game outweigh all other considerations.
But there's a principle at stake here, a point that was not lost on those intrepid few Offaly supporters who stood on Hill 16 during the Leinster Final. It was hardly overcrowding in the midlands that drove them there: you could fit the entire population of Offaly in the two main stands at Croke Park, without using the press box. No, those Offaly fans were like the feminists who invaded the Forty Foot when it was still a nude male bathing preserve, and they probably felt just as nervous.
The Hill 16 monopoly violates the unwritten code that says GAA fans must mingle with the opposition: if not shoulder to shoulder, then at least within conversing distance. This is not always pleasant. When your team is getting hammered, you will wish you had a revolver to deal with that arrogant Kerryman two rows in front. And the only thing worse than him is a Cork supporter patronisingly shaking hands with you after a game and wishing you better luck next year. But it's the glory of the GAA that opposing sets of supporters stand side by side, masking their deep mutual hatred with friendly banter.
On which point, there's another reason why the Hill 16 monopoly is bad, that will surely be appreciated even by Dubs. Namely that their wit, which we all know to be legendary, is not being shared properly. Surely Dublin fans will agree that country people are deprived enough already? But even if they don't, they should appreciate the opportunity to broaden their audience.
On a Dubs-only Hill, their efforts are wasted. There's not much point in being hilarious when, chances are, the lad beside you is every bit as witty as yourself.