/ 7 April 2000

Irish horse has a captive audience

Graham Rock HORSE RACING

A lanky chestnut with a white blaze will be entrusted with the hopes of 24 Irish prison officers in the Grand National at Aintree in Liverpool. Micko’s Dream has won nine of his 19 races and earned prize money of 104E000 for his syndicate of owners. Victory on Saturday would add 290E000.

In 1994 a classified advert in the Prison Officers’ Quarterly brought together 26 original members. The Syndicate of Prison Officers Racing Team (Sport) didn’t have the capital to buy a horse, so they arranged to save money, deducted from their salaries at source, until they had accumulated sufficient funds.

Searching for a horse in Ireland is like looking for a lady in the Reeperbahn; the choice is overwhelming, but probity is elusive. After considering several acquisitions, they paid 15E000 for an unraced son of Buckskin, a top-class stayer trained by Henry Cecil.

The young horse was weak, backward and too immature to stand training; the members of Sport had to wait. “One or two weren’t patient enough, and decided to leave,” said syndicate representative JB Curtin. The remainder have been bonded together by the swinging pendulum of success and failure familiar to owners.

Sport has a fully democratic constitution and the early differences of opinion were decided by secret ballot. Eventually they decided to send their horse to Willie Mullins, one of the leading trainers of jumpers, whose stables in County Carlow are home to Florida Pearl, the best chaser across the Irish Sea.

“We wanted a quality trainer who would tell us whether it was worth persevering with the horse. Willie Mullins is very professional and if you listen carefully to him, you will understand what he is thinking. He’s very straightforward. There’s no bullshit with him,” Curtin said.

When Mullins saw the four-year-old, he was unimpressed. “He’s ugly enough,” was his first reported assessment. Retrospectively, he is more diplomatic. “He wouldn’t have been a horse I’d have gone out of my way to buy. He’s light of bone, not your average chaser, but he’s got size and scope. When we began to school him at home he was very fast and I thought he might be found out by the big fences, but he just skips over them.”

One of the most enthusiastic members of Sport was Michael O’Hehir, from Cork prison. He lived for the craic (track). He had always wanted a racehorse, but never thought it would be within his reach. He was one of the first to sign when the opportunity arrived and went out and bought a new hat and coat to wear as the proud owner in the parade ring.

O’Hehir never saw the object of his desire; within a few months he had died of cancer. At the next general meeting of Sport, Curtin suggested that they should name the horse after their deceased colleague. The motion was carried unanimously. When his friends talk of O’Hehir, regret is eclipsed by remembrance.

“He was Jack the Lad, he was up for anything. He was mad into racing, he loved a bet. You couldn’t help but like him, half of Cork thinks he is reincarnated in the horse.”

His widow, Elsie, retained O’Hehir’s share and she will be among the party of 100 that descends on Liverpool at the end of the week.

Micko’s Dream first ran in a bumper at Clonmel. The prison officers had waited nearly three years and were bursting to bet. A deputation of five attended the horse and trainer in the paddock, while the remainder were positioned among the crowd, waiting for the signal to strike.

At Clonmel, Mullins was subject to a searching interrogation. Would Micko’s Dream win? “That’s always difficult to say.” What do you think? “He’s never been in better form.”

The team had been hoping for a more positive endorsement; it was not forthcoming. James Halley, the club treasurer, was wearing a cap. If he removed it, the coup was on. “What shall I do?” he asked Jim Balfry, the syndicate secretary. “Take the fecking thing off,” came the unequivocal reply. “Nobody was to move until the signal. Then it was the nearest thing to a stampede,” Curtin said.

The money went down, Micko’s Dream was sent off at 2-1 and the gamble was landed. Sport recouped the purchase price, the training fees, and had a sizeable surplus to fund celebrations.

At Tramore next time, confidence was even higher. “I think we’ve a few pounds in hand,” suggested the conservative trainer, but Micko’s Dream finished eighth. One prisoner at Portlaoise renamed the horse Micko’s Nightmare. In his second race over fences, at Thurles, Micko’s Dream was not expected to beat his stable-companion, Native-Darrig, but he won by 20 lengths. “None of us had a shilling on him,” said Jim Balfry. “The winner’s enclosure was like a funeral.”

In most of his races, Micko’s Dream has been well backed.

“We’re spread among eight prisons and obviously the owners like to talk about the horse,” said Curtin. “He’s been adopted by thousands of people in the last couple of years. There’s always money for him. It is difficult to get a price and you have to try to be organised, so everyone gets the same crack of the whip. One or two got greedy early. They did not make the same mistake twice. We never take morning prices and we have one or two trade secrets.”

The prison officers who own Micko’s Dream might portray themselves as innocents abroad, but many have a sophisticated understanding of the game. They can recite the National weights like a litany, and one, John O’Neill, has written an ode to the eight-year-old jumper who will carry their red-and-white colours on April 8.

Prisoners, too, are among the followers. “Many are racing pundits and there’s a lot of banter,” said Curtin. “After he’s been beaten, one prisoner said that if he’d owned that donkey, he’d have shot it. Really, it was a just a joke.”

Micko’s Dream has become a valuable property. When he emerged as a talented novice, the owners rejected an offer of 100E000. They turned down 50E000 to lease the horse on Grand National day. “We’ve never even thought about it. We want the horse to run for us. They’d call us Judas if we took the money, and they’d be right.”

Curtin telephoned one bookmaker to ask for a price in the Grand National. The hapless clerk told him the horse was not entered.

“What price is a horse that isn’t entered?” Curtin asked.

“Any price,” came the reply and 66-1 was offered.

“I was frightened to have too big a bet in case he refused me, but I had a bit on, and at 40-1 the next day. Then I put in one or two of the lads, but when they tried, the clerk said betting had been suspended.”

As prize money accumulated, dividends were paid and more horses bought, but none has approached the success of their initial venture. This season Micko’s Dream has won the Thyestes Chase and the Red Mills Trial, the latter after the National weights were published.

Theoretically, he is one of the best handicapped horses in the race. A good jumper, he will be partnered by Jason Titley, who rode Royal Athlete to victory in the National five years ago.

Micko’s Dream often leads and Mullins would like to see his horse prominent from the start. “I’m hoping he’ll get away in the front rank and that his jumping will keep him there. I’ll be a lot happier if I see him get over the first three fences safely.”

Of course, Saturday afternoon April 8 should represent a unique opportunity to escape from prison in Ireland. At least 24 officers will be at Aintree and the remainder will view the race on television. Rest easy; the inmates will be watching just as closely.