Early Irish hopes proved unjustified in the punters' annual war of attrition with the bookies, writes Frank McNally
Even the dogs in the street knew Ireland would win the Champion Hurdle.
In the taxi to the racecourse, we passed a man on a bike, with a wire-haired terrier in the front basket.
The terrier was wearing a tricolour cap, and barking excitedly as he and his owner sped through Cheltenham. So we slowed down to ask their names. "Pat Smith from Kilkenny," said the man. "Woof, woof, woof, woof!" said the dog, ignoring the question completely.
Cheltenham does not always live up to the Irish hype, however, and by the second race few two-legged punters were shouting.
A horse called Justified had been billed as Ireland's first "banker", but he must have been from the Northern Bank.
Punters lost confidence in him even before the off, as he drifted first in the betting and then in the race, where a 20/1 English nag romped home in silence.
War of Attrition looked an even surer thing in the second race, owned as he was by Ryanair boss Michael O'Leary.
A hot favourite, his backers including John O'Donoghue - apparently the only Cabinet Minister here this year ("I'm the last of the Mohicans") - until his price was lower than a midweek seat to Stansted.
But whatever banking credentials he had must have been from Bulgaria.
He did lead for a while, admittedly, until the Cheltenham hill proved, in O'Leary's favourite word, terminal. Another English winner, and the reception around the course was polite, to put it mildly.
Among the more colourful sights yesterday was the Mongolian ambassador, in national dress, including clogs. He was there to cheer an Irish horse called Ulaan Baatar. But if Ulaan Baatar had been wearing clogs, he couldn't have run slower.
It was the worst Irish start to the festival this century.
The band in the Guinness Village played Fairytale of New York, somewhat unseasonally but catching the mood of disillusionment.
Cheltenham veteran Charlie McCreevy, now running for the José Manuel Barroso stable, urged calm. Yet even he admitted: "If we don't win the next one, then we may go home."
We needn't have worried. The betting had suggested the Champion Hurdle would be an early St Patrick's Day parade, and so it proved.
The first five past the post were Irish, with reigning champion and joint-favourite Hardy Eustace holding off Harchibald and Brave Inca in a thrilling finish.
The deep, guttural roar from the reviewing stand announced the real start of the festival - two more Irish winners would follow - and for the first time this year stewards struggled with overcrowding in the winner's enclosure.
With Hardy Eustace's owner Lar Byrne joined by an estimated 40 relatives, not to mention the village of Tullow, the efforts of the "badge police" were doomed.
One unwise member tried to eject a Byrne nephew, until the latter's father intervened.
"We're the champions, and this is where he belongs," he told the steward, prevailing eventually - as the horse had done - by a neck.
For months the only question about the race was which Irish horse would win.
People in Carlow never had any doubt. Obviously the Kilkenny dog was trying to tell us something.