Eureka in a Hidden Irish Valley

Beside the Blackwater River in West Waterford, there sits a picturesque little village called Ballyduff Upper where the never-ending flow of water and lush surrounding hills create a sweet serenity. Tranquil as it looks, the place is stone mad for horses, especially now, with mares being shuffled in from points far to be “covered” in 10,000 euro trysts with the sire of the Cheltenham Gold Cup winner Imperial Commander.
In Ballyduff, chat has a country ease in the local shop, McGovern’s; and traffic is so minimal that children often bat a sliotar up and down the miniature main street as the sun sets, sometimes watched by a few countrymen sipping a pint in one of the most clock-stopping pubs in Ireland, Tobin’s, where not even a radio intrudes on the peace. In that ancient hostelry, which is run by a pair of Tobin brothers named Ritchie and Denny, both in their 80s, the talk about local bloodstock never stops.
Though only forty-five minutes from Cork City, this castle-dotted stretch of the Blackwater Valley subscribes to an older code of civic pride, neighbourliness, and the twin passions of hurling and horses. It is the Hidden Ireland, as green as it gets, due to the majestic river running through it, and its secret empire of breeding prized thoroughbreds.
The village’s gentle ambience went a touch wild on St. Patrick’s Day when the locally bred Imperial Commander triumphantly soared over every fence and surged up the steep home stretch of Cheltenham as if its life purpose was to bring glory home to little Ballyduff, on whose grass and dreams it once fed. Dead across the river from where I was staying, victory roars erupted from sixty locals who had packed into a two-hundred year-old thatched cottage to watch the proceedings. This is the home of Owen Flynn, who bred the latest of the region’s many champion racers with his brother Larry, a resident of Los Angeles.
“It was the happiest day of my life” recalled Owen, a white haired retired farmer who has soft blue eyes. Sure, he bet heavily at 7-1 odds, and so had everyone else in Ballyduff, where the post-race celebration went on all night. The place, which won the national Pride of Place award in 2008, was bursting with more of that. It has just finished off its annual all-Ireland amateur drama festival in the volunteer-built town hall, where its summer Booley House traditional music, drama, and dance festival inspired the very idea of RiverDance.
When I met up with Owen Flynn, a lucky horseshoe hung fittingly from his whitewashed shed. His flower bedecked door hung wide open to the sun and to any visitor who might stroll into his comfortable kitchen, as many often do. The now 29 year-old mother of Imperial Commander, Ballinlovane, was grazing in the next field beside a pair of half-sisters of the champion gelding.
“Whether I’ll get any money out of it, who knows, but maybe that’s not the point,” Owen said from his seat before an eight-foot-high hearth boasting a glowing log fire. “Even though Denman (bred about fifteen miles away at the Grange Stud near Rathcormac in County Cork and the winner of the 2008 Gold Cup) and Kauto Star were tipped to be the favourites, I felt confident from the start. When Kauto fell, people here went wild and it was a day that will never be forgotten in Ballyduff.”
Victory brought 274,000 sterling to the Our Friends of the North syndicate that owns Imperial Commander, ridden by Limerick jockey Paddy Brennan, and possibly never-to-be-toted thousands to betters up and down the Blackwater Valley.
Owen, who farmed previously at West Lodge, Tallow for some years (where Imperial Commander was born), said he has kept a hand in horse racing for fifty years. After making tea, his sister Sadie proudly displayed various racing trophies he has won, including Irish Field Breeder of the Month award for March 2009 (with Larry) after Imperial Commander won the Ryanair Chase at last year’s Cheltenham Festival. “I can’t tell you how much fun Ownie has had with this,” she said.
Meeting the Sire
Later in March, I headed a few miles south to Beeches Stud, a sprawling expanse of 480 acres, where the sire of Imperial Commander, Flemminsfirth, is in hot demand. The farm is run by Bobbie McCarthy and his son Robert, but financed by the Fermoy-reared John Magnier of the pre-eminent Coolmore Stud operation and many other famous holdings.
Starlings were whirling crazy eights through a brooding sky, and the word was out that a groom on another farm had just hung himself. The spring was so slow the daffodils almost cringed, but Bobbie McCarthy was as busy as ever fielding calls for the services of Flemminsfirth and four other prime stallions — Brian Boru, Mountain High, Bach and Mahler — owned by the Magniers.
A fourth-generation horse breeder who has been “standing” stallions for Coolmore since 1972, Bobbie is a rail of a man with a long wizened face, but not a touch of grey in his bushy brown hair, nor a trace of pretence about him. From his prime seat at Cheltenham, he was not the least surprised when Imperial Commander gained his thrilling triumph. “He’s a very powerful horse and a great jumper, and he’d run Kauto Star to the neck in their last race, so I didn’t expect anyone to beat him. I’ve had so many winners over the years I kind of take it stride.”
We were chatting in a sitting room, surrounded by trophies and pictures of famous horses Bobbie has raised — among them Deep Run, Idole First, Amerleigh House, and Le Moss. A former Point to Point champion jockey himself and hunter when young with the Ballyduff Harriers, he said there was never any question that he would work with horses even as a child in the thatched cottage lower down on the farm. “People around here understand the pedigrees of jumping horses and know about breeding them as well as anyone in the world,” he said, while presenting a large glass of Jameson. “Very close by you’ve got Aghern Stud, Rathbarry, Castle Hyde, Grange, Ballinaroone, more than you can even list.”
Magnier is such a close personal friend that he called his fellow horse breeder seven days a week when he was very ill a few years ago, Bobbie said. “People don’t understand what a caring and sympathetic man he is.”
Eventually we proceeded down the long gravel drive to meet the famous Flemminsfirth, a great muscular bay with a mahogany coat and black legs, mane, and tail. He is having quite a time of it, being booked to “cover” more than 200 mares at a fee of 10,000 euros plus a session. The 17 year-old stallion looked like an engine of sheer power, snorting amiably and shaking his head and his Goya-dark eyes when Bobbie opened the door of his substantial quarters.
Bobbie let him have a good gnaw on a hardwood truncheon — stallions kept in waiting to fulfil their prime chore surge with so much energy that they love to chew endlessly. The horse exuded such might he made me feel small.
“He should be able to cover the mares for at least another seven years and maybe live till 30,” Bobbie explained.
“And what happens when he gets around 25?”
“He gets old and uninterested. They don’t have horse Viagra yet,” Bobbie chuckled.
“What a life,” I said.

Tags: Ballyduff, Beeches Stud, Booley House, Cheltenham, Coolmore Stud, Flemminsfirth, Impeerial Commander, Imperial Commander, Irish Gold Cup, Owen Flynn, Waterford