| |
|
|
Up For The Race
By
Aug 8, 2018, 21:36
Up For The Race
By Ray Kennedy Dublin Opinion 1987
 |
| Pic 1 |
He was small, fat and almost totally bald. He sat at the bar with new authority this week.
The Ras Tailteann was coming through and he had ridden it.
“ I see they’ve coming by tomorrow. God then they’ve horses o’men all the same
“Begod they are” says John in return “no bother to them lads to cycle a hundred miles in day”
“Ya Did it yourself I’m told,” The bar man coaxed John, gently as he could, without blowing the whole thing.
“I’ll tell Ya it was tough then, bikes were only half put together.
And the conversation went on and on. The Ras Tailteann . like the All Ireland Football Final, was always a lively topic for conversation .
Mary Kelly remembers it well . She was on her way to Mass one Sunday when they arrived on the road behind her. Cars blowing horns, loudspeakers blating , poor Mary jumped off her bike in terror. The first two rider went by like rockets, the third came screaming to a halt beside the poor lady.
“ Me chain is broke,” he roared, give me yer bike.”
While Mary stood in a state of shock, he threw down his own racing bike, and grabbed hers, basket, prayer book, brown bread and all, jumped on it and disappeared in a cloud of dust.
“Come back ya hoor ya”, shouted Mary, but he was gone.
A car stopped, a man jumped out , grabbed the stricken racing bike and said
“We’ll have your bike to night Ma’am
Suddenly the whole race had gone by and poor Mary Kelly was left standing on the silent road minus her bike and she haden’t even got Mass.
Later that night the bike did return and she was told the man who took it was Mick Murphy from Kerry and he was going to win the Rás. Mary’s bike never felt the same after,
Unlike today’ s racing cyclists, the menof the early years faced a week of tough competition with very little knowledge or proper training, Some of then set out like pilgrims.
“Bring enough food with ya,” the Mammy would tell him and a bit to drink.”
So Pádraig would start each day with bottles of drinks in cages attached to the handlebars and enough food stuffed into his jersey pockets to feed a family for the week.
The “team cars “ were mainly filled with friends who came for the crack, and eat, sleep and drink in the car for the entire week. In a mid-race crises Pádraig would scream for help.
“ Give us a wheel quick”
“Oh Holy God , he wants a wheel , it’s under our coat on the back seat”
“What’s it look like ?”
“Ah Jasus . a wheel its roundy”
Hours later Pádraig finished the stage, finding the way with the help of street and car lights to cross the line long after the parish priest. The local TD and the garda sergeant had gone home for their tea.
The man with the rad flag appeared at corners. Nobody knew his name but of the Ráshad to negotiate a bad turn he was there.
 |
| Pic 2 |
He stopped everything. Horses jinnetts were held in formation for hours and no one questioned his authority.
“Well they be long d’ya think?”
“Well it’s hard to say. Ma’am
They left Ballinrobe the same time as the train anyway. Suddenly they were onhim, a blurr of bikes and hooting honking cars and trucks.
“Yeup ya boy ya - give her stick lads “ And they were gone and so was he.
For over 30 years the Rás Tailteann has been part of Irish life. The heroes of yesterday are fat little men who gather at crossroads nowadays to watch to watch the modern sophisticated Rás swish by. But they are never yesterday’s men, The fact they rode gives them a renewed status every time is passes neat their place.
“ Begod you must be horses of men” the barman said.
“Begod we were, said John “ Begod we were “
|
|
| |
