The week that was in it, all eyes were on events in the US. And regardless of which of the protagonists you wanted to win, you couldn't but have enjoyed that finale.
It was pure drama as the two of them vied for glory: fortunes swinging first one way and then another; the cheers of rival supporters rising and falling by turns. Gripping stuff. And when they finally reached the finishing post separated by a neck, your heart just had to go out to jockey Mick Kinane, who had ridden the runner-up.
Yes, the millennium Breeder's Cup Classic will live long in the memory of racing fans, especially those who were lucky enough to be in Kentucky last weekend to watch it. Sure, it was disappointing for the Irish to miss out so narrowly in the US's richest race. But on the other hand, Giant's Causeway lost nothing in defeat, and might even have won had Kinane not lost the reins in the closing stages.
It was also interesting to compare the coverage of the result on either side of the Atlantic. Here the emphasis was on the courage of Aidan O'Brien's horse, whereas the Americans were just as chauvinistic about the winner, Tiznow. Nowhere more so than in the Washington Post, which represented the colt's triumph as the American dream on four legs.
There was a definite political edge to its description of the winner as a "humbly-bred overachiever" who had bested "a field of blue-bloods". The anti-aristocracy tone was ironic given that the race venue was Louisville, named in honour of Louis XVI, who lost the reins of power during the exciting closing stages of the French Revolution, and finished that contest, as it were, a head and part of a neck down. And there was more of it. Had the race been decided "on the basis of class," the paper said, Giant's Causeway would have won. "He is a son of the world's most expensive stallion," continued the Post's revolutionary reporter, "but Tiznow wouldn't let him go by".
Of course, the other big event of the week in the US was that election business on Tuesday; and in the sort of coincidence that only a trained columnist would notice, that produced a very close finish too. Had the race between Bush and Gore been decided on the basis of neck, as the Post reporter might have said, it would have been a dead-heat from day one. But as it happened, the contest produced its own dramatic finale as the highly-strung thoroughbreds went stride for stride to the finish, nostrils flaring. Bush's nostrils were the more experienced, by all accounts, which may make the difference in the end.
As in the events at Louisville, breeding was an issue in the election too. There was nothing humble about the origins of either candidate: Al Gore is descended from a long line of champions, and George Bush was a son of the most successful political sire in the US since Joe Kennedy. But any student of the form would have to ask what happened to the genes on the way down.
Gore, as was frequently noted, had all the personality of a block of wood; while in fairness, and as was also frequently noted, he had a much higher IQ than his opponent (as have many blocks of wood).
If you could somehow have crossed the two of them, you'd have had a candidate worthy to lead the free world, or whatever it's now called. But individually, they both paled in comparison with Bill Clinton, the humbly-bred overachiever now retiring from racing (important note: the rest of this sentence is just a continuation of the equine metaphor, and not meant to be taken in any way literally) for a possible career at stud.
THE early hours of Wednesday morning were a difficult time for any daily newspaper. With memories of the 1948 election headline "Dewey Wins" still serving as a caution to news folk everywhere, the only safe place was on the fence.
It was a night to strain the talents of sub-editors, as they sought a more marketable version of the message "Bush or Gore set for victory, barring draw". But at the same time no print journalist anywhere would have taken pleasure in the difficulties of our colleagues in the televisual media as the they all made enormous fools of themselves, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
My own modest role in the coverage was to report on the US Embassy's election night party at Dublin's Mansion House. This can be a useful early barometer of America's mood. And, for instance, well before there were any firm indications from CNN, I was able to predict, fairly accurately, that people in the Mansion House were going to be seriously drunk before the night was out.
This was based on the facts that (1) hundreds of gallons of beer were being distributed at the party and (2), as a symbol of America's traditional role in the world, the beer was free. I'm not suggesting the events were related, but approximately every journalist I ever met was there. Unfortunately, I couldn't join in this celebration of free-beer values because I had a story to file back in the newsroom. So about midnight, I took an exit poll (a majority of people polled couldn't remember how they'd got in) and fought my way out.
I was tempted to go back later after finishing work. But it's just as well I didn't. I'd only have regretted it the next morning, when I woke up not knowing where I was (a bit like the US) and with a head on me like Louis XVI.
Frank McNally can be contacted at fmcnally@irish-times.ie
