A few modest flutters and a couple of pints with the lads. For nearly three decades, the Christmas Race Meeting at Leopardstown has been an annual treat for Bertie Ahern and his Drumcondra Mafia, writes Miriam Lord.
It's not known how he fared with the bookies on December 27th in 1993. Did the then minister for finance win, break even, or lose his shirt?
Of course, in the end, it didn't really matter. Because by the time the day was out, Bertie Ahern had hit the jackpot to the tune of more than £22,000. And he didn't have to put as much as the price of a cup of tea on a horse to get it.
Bertie and the boys had a great old time at the track and then they took the party back to St Luke's in Drumcondra. It's part of the tradition. And 1993 was no different.
Des Richardson, Fianna Fáil's chief fundraiser at the time, was among the merry crew enjoying some post-racing cheer in Bertie's constituency headquarters. Also there was the late Gerry Brennan, the then minister's solicitor, who was so concerned about his client's legal costs following a lengthy marriage separation that he organised a whiparound for him.
The Christmas decorations would have been up, with a tree twinkling merrily in a corner and scores of cards strung up around the walls. Somebody might even have started a few carols.
"Michael Wall has loads of lolly, tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!" "Blueshirts Roasting on an Open Fire." "Silent Collection." And so on.
In the middle of all this, Bertie and his solicitor went into a private office. They weren't gone too long, just long enough for the late Mr Brennan to give his friend and client £15,000 in cash, a bank draft for £5,000 and a cheque for £2,500.
This is what is known among the peasantry as Bertie's first "dig-out" and by tribunal lawyers as "the goodwill loan". Des Richardson, who didn't go into the office with Mr Brennan, so can't really say what happened, calls it the "helping hand". As is always the case in tribunal-land, the lucky recipient was so surprised he could think of nothing else to do but keep the money, even though Bertie made it clear he was accepting it as a loan to be repaid.
Des Richardson acted in tandem with Mr Brennan to put the dig-out together.
The two had decided to help out their friend, Des told the tribunal, because "there was a general view at that time" in Drumcondra "that he wasn't in the best shape financially and hadn't been for a number of years".
This was a result of separation, which left him with big legal bills and no house. "That type of thing." You could see yesterday that big-hearted Des was convinced his old friend was on his uppers.
He wasn't to know that Bertie had over fifty grand in cash at his disposal along with excellent prospects.
The guys decided to undertake "a fundraising operation" and tapped a small but select number of Bertie's pals for money.
Most kicked in with £2,500, although, unfortunately, there are no records or receipts outstanding to back up the transaction. They were asked to stump up the money in cash, as Bertie was less likely to send it back. He could have returned cheques, and it was also a "confidentiality" issue.
Mr Richardson explained what the chosen few had in common: they were good friends of the then minister, they weren't short of a few shillings and they were "from the Southside". That last one has us baffled. Is this because southsiders have more money, or are more gullible?
Lawyer Des O'Neill wondered why the prevailing view was that Ahern was strapped for cash, facing what the witness said was "a difficult time in his life". After all, it was seven years since his marriage finished, and in 1993 he had a "life partner" in Celia Larkin, pointed out Legal Des. "He had formed a second relationship. He was living a perfectly successful and happy life with somebody else, isn't that right?"
Fundraiser Des hesitated for an instant. "He had a family as well, you know," he replied, sounding slightly affronted.
Whereupon the senior counsel shot back: "And he had a good job, too." So where did the idea that Bertie Ahern needed a dig-out come from?
"Perhaps Mr Brennan knew more than I did," shrugged Richardson.
Unfortunately, that would be the late Mr Brennan.