“I awoke in a small whitewashed room thick with the scent of ether. My hands and feet were tied to the bed. And when I tried to speak, it was a stranger’s voice that I heard. This was September 1956, and I had been unconscious for the past five days since falling at Kilbeggan on a horse called Ireland. My skull had been fractured. I had pressure on the brain and was apparently lucky to be alive . . . On arrival at the Bon Secours Hospital in Dublin, I had been given a no more than 50-50 chance of survival. The one thing upon which all my doctors agreed was that my racing career was over . . . “After all,” they said, “you could never find a better time to call it a day . . . Never have a better year than the one that’s gone.” And in that they were probably right. In addition to my Grand National win, I had ridden the gallant Umm to victories in the Irish National and Galway Plate, a rare double. In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t hope for a better year than that.”
My Life and Arkle’s
Pat Taaffe

It’s hot, with not enough of a breeze to carry a cloud. I close the worn and torn cover of my book and start to get changed into my running gear. We’re in Clairefontaine and Harry Swan has been asking for sun cream to go and walk the track. The French jockeys find this very amusing. I give him my cap instead and on we head, two pale Irishmen in the French sun with one map and 3,700m of French steeplechasing twists and turns to find our way around, before we ride in the €40,000 amateurs’ handicap chase. There’s a lot of stopping and pointing and turning of the map. The ground is fast. One groundsman tells us to watch out “for zee holes”. I look at Harry and Harry looks at me. We walk the rest of the way looking down . . .

There are two false starts but finally we’re off and away. I’d jumped the first fence after one of the false starts, which negated being told not to jump the practice jump by the girl leading me up. At least I think that’s what she said. We fly down past the stands at a rate of knots after the messy start and my horse dances at the first. Lovely. We slot into fourth, just behind the leaders, running a bit keen. Turn into the back straight and stay left. Jump two and hang a right, jump one on the bend and then back into the home straight. Wheel back right into the infield and jump two hedges and then a two-stride double before getting back on to the racecourse proper. Down into the back straight again but stay right this time. A white van is slowly making its way across the front of the next fence. I repeat, a white van is slowly making its way across the front of the next fence. It trundles off the track just before we thunder into it. I can hear the Carry On music. We jump into second at that fence and then lean left towards the next, the Obstacle Anglais . . .

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Published on 26 August 2025inPatrick Mullins

Last updated 14:00, 26 August 2025