"He misses nothing, that John Moloney. A top man, " grins a pipe-smoking onlooker. "He could hear the grass growing. Did you see him on that TV3 programme the other night? Up from the crack of dawn. Preparing for this week these last twelve months. He hadn't even time to sit down while he was eating his breakfast cereal.
Checking his old-fashioned rain gauge.'None of this modern computer model weather forecasting for me,' says he. 'If you can see Black Head out in Galway Bay, you know it has cleared.'
Walking the course. Prodding and poking at the turf to test the going. No stone left unturned.
Oh, it was well said that if you want a job done properly, give it to a busy man."
"To racegoers travelling along the Dublin to Galway road, the names on the signposts are a magical incantation: Tyrrellspass, Kilbeggan, Horseleap, Moate, Athlone, Ballinasloe, Aughrim, Kilreekill, Loughrea, and Craughwell. Fields and hedgerows rush by; the distinctive stone walls of Galway begin to appear; and the pulse quickens.
Oranmore at last! Devotees converge from Cork, Kerry, Tipperary, Limerick and Clare, their eyes alert for the heart-warming directional signs to 'The Galway Races'.
Traffic Branch gardai ensure the smooth flow of traffic. You park your car and emerge to the nostalgic scent of freshly mown grass and the familiar echoing sound of the public address system.
The ivied ruins of the Old Norman castle and the distant prospect of the hills of Clare evoke memories of previous Galway Races.
Revived at Ballybrit, about three miles from Galway city, in 1869, the Galway Races has grown from a small country meeting into the fourth largest horse racing festival in the World. Its feature races, the Galway Steeplechase Plate and the Galway Hurdle, have a rich history; and owners, trainers and jockeys love to have winners at Galway, where in those brief few minutes after the victory they all enjoy 'one crowded hour of glorious life'.
This book contains an account of the origin and development of the Galway Races and people and horses that were part of this amazing story. Fred Cullen's feat of training all five winners on the card, the first English-trained winner at the meeting in 1904, the panic in Galway when the Government announced the centralisation of racing during the Great War and the U-turn that followed when it was realised that the economy of the city depended on the races. The great Galway trainers,including Harry Ussher, Maxie Arnott, Dermot Weld and Noel Meade; the leading owners, Charles Blake, Pansy Croft, Michael Smurfit; and the famous riders, including Gary Moore, Tommy Beasley, Joe Canty, and Michael Kinane all feature in this book.
Events are also covered, like the winner of the Galway Hurdle that was disqualified because the owner did not pay the entry fee; the angry weather that caused the abandonment of the old Tuam programme when run at Galway for the first time; and the changing face of Ireland in the early sixties, which caught out the Galway Race Committee.
Do you want to apply for landing rights for your helicopter at Galway Races 2009?
Extract from 'The Irish Times' 20/5/2009
'One of the litmus tests for Irish helicopter use will come later this summer at the annual Galway Races. In recent years helicopter travel to and from the racecourse necessitated the building of a dedicated control tower, with the event more in tune with a scene from Black Hawk Down than an annual race meet. Over 2,000 landings took place during the course of the festival in 2008, compared to 120 in 1991.
At last month’s Punchestown Festival, helicopter landings dropped from 1,200 last year to less than 300 this year. It is estimated that the numbers of landings on the Friday of the festival in 2008 was the same as the total number for the whole week this year.
Organisers at the Galway Festival are currently writing to companies asking if they intend re-applying for landing rights at this year’s festival. Racecourse managerJohn Moloney says it’s too early to tell what level of chopper traffic this year’s festival will attract, but his "gut feeling is that there will be less this year than last year".'Down to Earth with a Bump
Galway Race Week accommodation should be booked as early as possible to obtain the hotel, apartment, house or bed and breakfast of your choice.
Since most racegoers prefer Galway Race Week accommodation that is within walking distance of the centre of Galway (where the real festival action takes place), hotels and guesthouses with convenient access to the following locations usually fill up first: Eyre Square, William Street, Shop Street, High Street, Quay Street, Eglinton Street, St Francis Street, Smith Street, Upper Abbeygate Street, Lower Abbeygate Street, Middle Street, Lower Dominick Street, and the Spanish Arch and Museum area.
'Galway Race Week Accommodation' is a phrase that crops up with increasing regularity in conversations throughout the country as the Galway Races approach. Regular Galway racegoers know from experience that it is important to book their accommodation well in advance of the Ballybrit racing festival, but there are always the newcomers who arrive in Galway at the last minute expecting to check in to their chosen hotel or B&B in the centre of the city at a moment's notice.
"For one group of incorrigible optimists, who have no accommodation booked, the hundreds of 'No Vacancies' signs around Galway have necessitated a frustrating odyssey through Salthill, Barna, Spiddal, Inveran and the distant outcrops of Connemara. "There's three of us sleeping under an upturned currach!" jokes the man with the pint. €39.99 for bed and breakfast. The woman said it was a special offer. Still, I wouldn't miss Galway for anything." From 'Galway Races - Memories in the Making'
When Christy Moore appeared with Pat Kenny on the Late Late Show, he added extra lyrics about the Irish banking scandal.
"There's Bethlehem and Cheltenham and Lourdes and Limerick Junction, The trip to Medjagoria or the rub of the Extreme Unction. Good people climb Croagh Patrick with serenity on their faces, But Ruby saved me bacon below at the Galway Races. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
They're under starters orders, Ted Walsh is commentating, Oh Ruby's up on the favourite, she'll take some 'batin'. Oh Necks are craned and eyes are strained there's fear upon the faces. There's agony and ecstasy below at the Galway Races. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
It's there you'll see gentility, sheep dressed up like mutton. There's double barrelled names with more airs than old melodeons The talk is all of tillage, of silage and conacre, And there goes Tracy Piggott to the saddling enclosure. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
Sir John Mucksavage-Smythe is there with Smurfits and O'Reillys, The owners and the trainers, the stable boys and jockeys With silk around their arses getting up on rich men's horses, Not to mention wives and daughters and marriages and divorces. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
There's Celtic helicopters and land bank speculators, There's builders, developers, crocodiles and alligators. They're flocking around the Galway tent like seagulls in a frenzy Poor Beverley peels the spuds, poor Bertie skims the gravy. Hey Ruby hold he back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
The little Micky Fingletons and the Seanie Fitzpatricks, Oh them is the boys to run the bank, their wages are fantastic. They're hedging their bets in doubles, trebles and accumulators, And knowing the blinkers have gone on the financial regulators. Hey Ruby hold her back give her the crack and up she'll go.
Oh Thursday it's the Ladies' Day and the women all look smashing, They're lashing on the lipstick, Philip Treacy's all the fashion. You can see the liposuction, botox and augmentation, Brazilian crewcuts and colonic irrigation. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
Then everyone's out to Salthill for the craic and for the porter. There's bookies laying odds on two flies walking up the wall. There's fiddles and trad, they're disco mad, karaoke and set dances, And some of us who'd seen better days were looking to take our chances. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
She's galloping down the back straight, Ruby has her in a canter. Ah look at her lep the jumps, by God, she's like a ballet-dancer. They're over the last, she hits the front, nothing's going to pass her. It's 'Winner All Right', 'Up Kildare!', 'Follow Me Up To Carlow', Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go. Hey Ruby Walsh hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
There's Bethlehem and Cheltenham and Lourdes and Limerick Junction, The trip to Medjagoria, the rub of the extremunction. Good people climb Croagh Patrick with serenity on their faces, But Ruby Walsh he saved me life below at the Galway Races. Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go.
They're under starters orders, Ted Walsh is commentating, Ruby's up on the favourite, she'll take some 'batin'. Necks are craned and eyes are strained, there's fear upon the faces. There's agony and ecstasy below at the Galway Races. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
It's there you'll see gentility and sheep dressed up like mutton. There's double barrelled names with more airs than old melodeons. The talk is all of tillage, of silage and conacre. I fancy Tracy Piggot in the saddling enclosure. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
Sir John Mucksavage-Smythe is there with Smurfits and O'Reillys, The owners and the trainers, and the stable boys and jockeys With silk around their arses getting up on rich men's horses Not to mention wives and daughters and marriages and divorces. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go.
There's Celtic helicopters, land bank speculators, Builders and developers, crocodiles and alligators. Soldiers of Destiny, they're in a fevered frenzy. Them boys would eat the Lamb Of God and come back for the gravy. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go.
Thursday is the Ladies' Day and the women all look smashing, They're lashing on the lipstick, Philip Tracy's all the fashion. You can see the liposuction, the botox and augmentation, Brazilian haircuts, colonic irrigation. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go.
And everyone's out to Salthill for the craic and for the porter, There's bookies making odds on two flies walking up the wall. There's folk and trad and they're disco mad, karaoke and set dances, While some of us who'd seen better days were looking to take our chances. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go.
They're galloping down the back straight, he has her in a canter, Ah look at her lep the jumps, by God, she's like a ballet-dancer. They're over the last, she hits the front, no other is going to pass her. 'Winner All Right', it's 'Up Kildare!', 'Follow me up to Carlow'. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go. "
Christy Moore's tribute to Ruby Walsh who 'saved me life' at the Galway Races.
There's Bethlehem and Cheltenham and Lourdes and Limerick Junction, The trip to Medjagoria, the rub of the Extreme Unction. Good people climb Croagh Patrick with serenity on their faces, But Ruby Walsh he saved me life below at the Galway Races. Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
They're under starters orders, Ted Walsh is commentating, Ruby's up on the favourite, she'll take some 'batin'. Necks are craned and eyes are strained, there's fear upon the faces. There's agony and ecstasy below at the Galway Races. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
It's there you'll see gentility and sheep dressed up like mutton. There's double barrelled names with more airs than old melodeons. The talk is all of tillage, of silage and conacre. I fancy Tracy Piggot in the saddling enclosure. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
Sir John Mucksavage-Smythe is there with Smurfits and O'Reillys, The owners and the trainers, and the stable boys and jockeys With silk around their arses getting up on rich men's horses Not to mention wives and daughters and marriages and divorces. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
There's Celtic helicopters, land bank speculators, Builders and developers, crocodiles and alligators. Soldiers of Destiny, they're in a fevered frenzy. Them boys would eat the Lamb Of God and come back for the gravy. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
Thursday is the Ladies' Day and the women all look smashing, They're lashing on the lipstick, Philip Treacy's all the fashion. You can see the liposuction, the botox and augmentation, Brazilian haircuts, colonic irrigation. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
And everyone's out to Salthill for the crack and for the porter, There's bookies making odds on two flies walking up the wall. There's folk and trad and they're disco mad, karaoke and set dances, While some of us who'd seen better days were looking to take our chances. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
They're galloping down the back straight, he has her in a canter, Ah look at her lep the jumps, by God, she's like a ballet-dancer. They're over the last, she hits the front, no other is going to pass her. 'Winner All Right', it's 'Up Kildare!', 'Follow me up to Carlow'. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the craic and up she'll go. Hey Ruby hold her back, give her the crack and up she'll go.
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