TV View:   Poise, control, horsemanship: cherished qualities in a pressure-laden arena.

The fence builders always presented a tough course, particularly down the shed end, where following a tight turn, a huge oxer loomed, the straggly head of the mop blowing in the breeze.

The mount could be skittish. It was a constant battle to coax a big leap, trying not to pitch forward on landing over the three-stride combination. If you could handle a Space Hopper in those tight confines, then piloting a German-bred gelding must be a mere bagatelle.

Still, in fairness to Cian O'Connor and his mount, Waterford Crystal, there were a few more punters watching him claim a gold medal for Ireland than used to show up in the back garden during childhood summers. The 24-year-old Irishman's wonderful victory inspired memories of those days.

Outside of those with a specific interest in the sport of show jumping either through participation or a watching brief, most people's exposure would be limited to an accidental slip of the remote control during August and a glimpse of the Aga Khan trophy at the RDS in Dublin. O'Connor may change that after his Athens heroics.

The fact the Ireland team were enduring, to borrow a Eurovision term, a "nul points" Olympics had the national broadcaster groaning in disbelief.

RTÉ's homage to insomniacs, the 16 hours of Olympic minutiae they served up daily, offered little national cheer.

O'Connor's tea-time antics were grasped by RTÉ with the strength of a drowning man: Mecca, pay dirt, for all those hours of mind-numbing, slot-filling dross (apologies to the synchronised swimmers).

Boy, did they go into overdrive. It didn't matter what else was taking place in Athens, Ireland had won a gold medal and Montrose were going to trumpet it for all it was worth. It was down to Kilcullen, home of Karl Mullen, former rugby international and grandfather of O'Connor, to pop some bubbly and while away a minute or 10.

It was the first of several visits that night. The initial studio reaction to O'Connor's success was excruciatingly stilted, a contrast to the breathless commentary of Robert Hall and John Hall. The Hall brothers, as they're affectionately known (they're not related), provided a colourful, informative and jargon-free soundtrack to the pictures.

There was one slightly surreal moment when Robert told viewers that listeners to RTÉ Radio One had joined them for Jessica Kuerten's round. It meant he was describing the unfolding drama for some who could see and some who could not, prompting comments like, "She's over that one, she's jumped another, still clear." Irritating to viewers who, while limited in their technical knowledge of the sport, can see if the fence is still intact.

If the BBC had been particularly tiresome in their gloating and endless repetition of the many British successes at the Olympics then RTÉ weren't about to be outdone when Ireland finally minted gold. Suffice to say that the hours of footage and endless repetition will be deeply appreciated by the friends and family of Cian O'Connor.

Overall, RTÉ deserve credit for the quality of the analysis they offered their viewers, light years ahead of the Beeb's crew. Gary O'Toole, Eamonn Coghlan, Mick Dowling and Jerry Kiernan excelled in particular under the baton of Bill O'Herlihy, who plays his role of agent provocateur superbly.

Only Michael Johnson really cut through the chauvinistic myopia of the Beeb's transmissions, the American legend offering something more tangible in his analysis than simpering cheerleading.

Dubliner Craig Doyle has made a name for himself since joining the BBC and in the last year has been thrust into the sports broadcasting arena.

Unfortunately, not everyone seems to be a fan, judging by the lambasting he received in the English media even though he has tried to play ball, remarking, among other comments, "It's great to see us (Britain) win another medal" and "It's great to hear the anthem (God Save the Queen) again."

In mitigation, he looked suitably smug when O'Connor struck gold, and he definitely wins the award for the cheesiest one-liner.

Doyle revealed a gold medallist in one of the Greco Roman wrestling categories was into ladies' underwear, so to speak, making as he did bras and panties. He added: "I'm sure his victory will be an uplifting experience for his country."

Still it's only once every four years.