Hourigan at last has a contender

MICHAEL HOURIGAN is on his way somewhere. He doesn't know where. "Patrick something," he says. "Patrick Gee-something

MICHAEL HOURIGAN is on his way somewhere. He doesn't know where. "Patrick something," he says. "Patrick Gee-something. Ever heard of it?"

In Dublin for the day and he's doing the rounds. Guinness first, then the Bookmakers' Society dinner in Dublin's most exclusive French restaurant, Patrick Guilbaud's. "That's the one?

Gee-Bows. Any good? I might or mightn't go."

He can predict the questions. They'll hammer down on him like hailstones on a corrugated roof. Dorans Pride and Cheltenham. Dorans Pride and the Gold Cup. Dorans Pride and Danoli. Dorans Pride and Imperial Call. Dorans Pride and downhill jumps. He knows where the inquisition will end. He knows it will lead to unfamiliar voices in his ear and plumes of cigar smoke fogging the room.

READ MORE

It will lead to quiet words in `Patrick Gee-Bows' like `Tellus Mick. If you were me ... And I know you're not ... Does he have a Gold Cup in him?"

"It's gold is it?" he asks again. "It's French," you say. "Maybe I should have brought the wife," he muses. "It's not me they want anyway. It's my son Michael. He rode the most winners over 10 to 1 this year. He rode one 33 to 1 winner. I think that clinched it for him."

Trainers don't often get a chance to touch bookies so easily and `Gee-Bows' is a good 20 to 1 coming in with a tenner on. "Maybe I will," he says half distractedly.

Soft featured, rotund, ruddy faced but with the sparred-a-few rounds look of a boxer and decked out in tweed trousers, tweed jacket, tweed waistcoat and mustard brown leather shoes, the trainer of Cheltenham Gold Cup hope Dorans Pride settles into the chair. He turns his thickset hands to the ceiling and takes himself away from `Gee-Bows.'

"My father owned a pub," he begins. "He was a cattle dealer in Limerick . .

HOURIGAN never knew he had such Dorans Pride. At home over the gallops, any old companion horse would beat him. The chestnut gelding was an idler, a shirker like one of those A-stream kids in school who contented themselves in class with a D plus until exam time came around. That's Dorans Pride. An easy going A-stream horse.

"A hunter would sometimes beat him in his homework" says Hourigan. "He doesn't really show you a whole pile at home, which is a great sign in a horse. On the race course, he's a real tough nut. He doesn't spare his lack of stamina or guts or determination to win. But at home he's just an idler."

Dorans Pride has idled himself to prize-money of over £213,000 and has been placed first or second 22 times out of 26 starts. Sixteen of those races have been wins. When he won the Stayers' Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1995, Hourigan had, for the first time since St Patrick's Day in 1979 when Ramrajya came home to give him his first winner, a horse in his stable that was not for sale.

All his life he has been a horse dealer as much as a trainer. Selling and buying for small farmers who have pointed or who have won bumpers has kept the yard breathing. Selling on when they showed potential, buying in if he saw promise. It has been a case of necessity ever since he returned from England in 1962 and struck out on his own.

"I got to Charlie Weld's in 62 and served my apprenticeship there. I wasn't very good as a jump jockey. Didn't have the bottle for it. I wasn't taught properly and got frightened before I knew what I should be doing. So I came home, rode a couple of winners and started out on my own. I'd a licence for six years before I won a race.

"It was very hard at the beginning because I wasn't established as a jockey and I didn't know the people to go to. If I'd ridden winners for people it would have been easy to go and touch them up for horse. I struggled and struggled to get going.

"It was a case of sell them as quickly as you could. The farmers were in the same position as I was. It was money. You'd be in and out of winners. But they had to be sold and that was it. Maybe now I'd have a different type of client that doesn't want to sell," he says.

Dorans Pride has helped him bridge the gap between trader and trainer. Every yard needs a flagship and Hourigan has his. The Gold Cup is not just the biggest race over jumps, but in the same way as Danoli has been the jewel in Tom Foley's stable, Dorans Pride has been the making of the Limerick yard.

"He's a tremendous boost to the yard and to the staff. Even to your own morale - just to have a serious horse. He never really runs a bad race. I think for any trainer, big or small, to win at Cheltenham is like winning a gold medal at the Olympics. Only 20 of us can win over there. To be one of the 20 out of hundreds of horses is an achievement in its own right."

Having won the Stayers' Hurdle two years ago Hourigan knows that a fit horse will get the full trip. But three weeks ago at Thurles, Dorans Pride approached the second-last fence with Merry Gale and Royal Mountbrowne chasing. Jumping perfectly, jockey Shane Broderick moved to take him over the relatively simple fence. In a flash the horse exploded through the scrub and on to the ground. Hourigan looked in disbelief as Broderick spilled on to the turf.

"He fell in Thurles the same as if you drove a car at a wall. He made no attempt to jump it. I don't know why. People have been saying it might have been the sun. It might have been this or that. I don't know. He just did not make any attempt to get off the ground. If it was an error of judgment you'd have a doubt. But there was no error of judgment.

"People were making him out to be infallible as far as jumping was concerned. I won't say I'm glad he took a tumble but at least we know he can fall. We know he's not 100 per cent foot perfect, but he's a lot of it."

For all of Cheltenham's appeal and Hourigan's reputed shrewdness, he lost a horse last year when Lamero went down at the last flight in the County Hurdle. It was a year to be remembered for the direst of reasons. Twenty eight horses failed to finish on day one, 18 on day two and 29 on day three. In all, 10 animals died over the three days.

"If I went in with the attitude that the horse could fall badly, it would just be a worry. If I thought like that I'd never run a horse again. You've always disappointments, always setbacks," says Hourigan.

There are few setbacks these days that can take the wind from the trainer. Three weeks ago his eyes were opened again. He travelled to St Moritz in Switzerland and watched as his own flesh and blood transformed the trip into a celebration. Tommy Stack's One Man Band in the Grand Prix Dubai Cup and Hourigan's Sentosa Star in the Christoffel Bau-Trophy were taken home by his 16-year-old son Paul.

"If you were to ask me the high-light of my life as far as a trainer is concerned, I think when Paul won on One Man Band, it was the best thrill I've had. He's only 16. He arrived in St Moritz on Saturday morning. Walked the track. Rode out on Sentosa Star. He'd never seen a race on the snow and he went out there and beat 17 others. A frozen lake. Three feet of ice. Okay, it mightn't have been a great race but to see him at 16 - it was a great trip."

He has five children and they are all involved in some way. Kay (20) runs the yard. Paul and Laura (14) ride out before school and Michael (23) helps to work the business. His youngest Mark is still only three years old.

"I know nothing else," he says. "I love training. I still like the point-to-pointing and the business side. I love to produce a good horse but I wouldn't be a man to go out and give good money for a horse that would have his bumper won. I'd like to start him as a virgin, work my way."

Hourigan's roots in training have been modestly put down and have been nourished by farmers and owners with few resources. He has always worked his way. At Lisaleen stables there used to be an old house, a barn and some stables. Now he doesn't spare the costs of an equine swimming pool among the rows of white boxes and slanting roofs. Everything goes into the yard.

In Dorans Pride he also has a horse that, he says; is very lucky, that is easy to train, that should have died on the operating table from colic. After that operation, the veterinary surgeon, Ned Gowing, turned to Hourigan and said: "He's as tough now as he is racing. He doesn't want to die."

He's fallen twice in his life, but he is back and he is a candidate.

Hourigan is tough himself. He has been to Cheltenham only three times with a serious horse.

Three times in over 20 years. His caution in delaying, until yesterday, a decision to run Dorans Pride has been typical. "You cannot plan a day in the life of a horse," he says. "I've seen it all before, taken too many knocks to be shooting my mouth off."

Johnny Watterson

Johnny Watterson

Johnny Watterson is a sports writer with The Irish Times