TV View:Naturally enough - and we don't mean to sound glib about this - we have many contacts in the sporting world and, consequently, are privy to utterly reliable inside information, so reliable that we have, at various stages, bet substantial one-figure sums on . . . Paul Jewell, Terry Venables, Graeme Souness, Gerard Houllier, Liam Brady, John Giles, Roy Hodgson, Philippe Troussier, Howard Kendall, Arie Haan, David O'Leary, Kenny Dalglish, John Aldridge, Billy Davies, Martin Jol, Jose Mourinho, Fabio Capello, Marcello Lippi, Slaven Bilic, Brian Kerr, Kevin Keegan and Mick McCarthy . . . getting the Irish job. Which, we're beginning to sense, means Sam Allardyce is a racing certainty.

Or, perhaps, Roy Keane - who, at the weekend, issued a come-and-get-me plea to the FAI by admitting he found the whole process more entertaining than Big Brother.

("Day 9,476 in the Big FAI House. Would John Delaney please come to the Diary Room. Hallo John." "Hello Big Brother." "Any news?" "No, but we're going forward." "You're not, John." "Oh yes we are." "Oh no you're not." "Stop, you're making it sound like a pantomime." "Well, you said it John.")

In many ways the Pierse Hurdle at Leopardstown yesterday reminded us of this manager-seeking process.

Do The Trick was the favourite, the Paul Jewell of the race. So we all queued up behind him, confident he'd pass the winning post first and scoop us enough to pay off some of the interest on our post-Christmas credit-card bill.

"But," said RTÉ's Ted Walsh, "if you were queuing up behind Do The Trick down the back when he fell he'd probably have interfered with you. If you were a jockey you'd have thought you were following a fair horse down to the last. Right behind the favourite - you couldn't be in a better position. But it wasn't the place to be - it's just like following a fella to the Red Cow roundabout - he decides to go the wrong way and you're behind him."

Indeed.

"I'm told if he goes the right way he still goes the wrong way these days, Ted," said Robert Hall of those who backed Do The Trick/Paul Jewell/the chances of facing the direction in which you want to travel after getting through the Red Cow roundabout.

"Yes," Ted sighed, "it's not so good if you're heading for Wexford and you want to go to the airport."

He actually said this so wearily we sensed that quite recently he ended up in Gorey at the same time as his flight was departing for Costa de la Luz.

But some of yesterday's Pierse Hurdle gamblers found their place in the sun when they backed the winner, Barker. Not least the soul who put €10,000 on him at 14 to 1 each-way. As Ted put it: ". . ." Like ourselves, speechless.

The runner-up was Brave Right, who, as it actually proved, was the race's real Paul Jewell.

"He missed the last a bit, dragging his ould arse through it," said Ted, confirming that Brave Right had, in many ways, settled for relegation with Derby rather than jousts with Italy, Bulgaria, Cyprus, Georgia and Montenegro.

And there the uncanny analogies didn't end. The three o'clock race. Several of the leading contenders - Cover Pearl and Splurge being the main two - allowed Motaraqeb steal a march, leaving themselves much too much to do, especially when they got stuck in traffic.

"It's like following a fella up to the traffic lights," said Ted, "you think he's going to break quick but his clutch sticks and you're stuck behind him. Nothing you can do."

This meant two things: (1) Ted has had dire luck in traffic of late, and (2) Jose Mourinho and Marcello Lippi are stuck behind Terry Venables at the FAI lights, desperately wanting to overtake him to snatch pole position, but afraid he'll suddenly, distracted, swerve into their paths (The Holiday Programme to the left, a 'Tel sings Sinatra' album to the right).

And, as we know, Tel's clutch has stuck on several occasions, so it's always best to keep your distance.

What about Souness? "Would you take the job?" asked Richard Keyes on Sky Sports yesterday.

"In a heartbeat, yes," he said.

Our bet looked good!

Until we realised that Keysie was actually talking about the position vacated by Big Sam at Newcastle.

Graeme is also in the running for the Scottish job, which is akin to him asking three babes for a date, in the hope that one will say, "Go on then."

Our gambling days, then, are done. We've followed too many contenders to the Red Cow roundabout, only for them to decide to go the wrong way and we're stuck behind them.

Meanwhile, Day 9,477 in the Big FAI House.