How I Won The Irish National In 2007
By Liam O'Comain
A fantasy tale for this time of the year
'My Dream' is a darkish grizzle almost yearling cock bird born in the summer of 2006 and as I don't race young birds he only has seen the inside of my training basket. His father was a medium blue cheq van der Wegen and his mother or dam was a small dark grizzle of the Thone strain. Both were gifted to me by my brother Tomas.
From early in his existence he (the grizzle) has built a relationship with me and indeed would become very annoyed if I ignored him when I enter the loft or if he was shunned when out for his daily flights. I respond or greet him by pointing a finger at him and he then becomes very docile in fact he more or less kisses my finger or fingers with his beak.
My Dream
One day while we were having this experience I recalled that Stevan van Breemen (I think) once wrote that all of his national winners presented the appearance of an owl when viewed straight on in the face. Upon this recall I gathered my friend in my hands and put him to the test and lo and behold he had the looks of an owl. Then my mind raised the question: had I a national champion in my care? And this idea burned itself into the cells of my brain, eventually settling in the centre of my spirit. In fact there wasn't a day that passed when it did not raise itself in the stream of my consciousness. Becoming so strong that I decided to prepare the grizzle for the Irish National Flying Club's King's Cup Blue Riband in 2007.
It was about this time that I received a phone call from the British Homing World requesting that I write a piece somewhat different from the usual reports and articles for the Christmas edition of the weekly. I agreed but hadn't a clue what would be the end result but this objective alongside my hopes for National success in 2007 became the centre of my immediate objective or concern.
It was now nearing the end of November and the weather was very wet and windy and although Christmas had raised its yearly head I was concentrating more and more on 'My Dream' and the task facing him within the year of his yearlingship. Thus facing frequent personal questions such as- 'Am I mad?' - 'Am I throwing him away?' coupled with increasing doubt I decided to continue with my life on as sane a level as possible (if that was possible), enjoy Christmas, and dream dreams that never were and ask - 'Why not?'.
The birthday or anniversary of Our Lord's birth came and went and it is one to remember for it brought the family from here and there to gather in merriment. It also lifted my seasonal depression for the bells later ringing in the New Year sang to me of the Spring and the coming of new life- the childhood of the world- the infancy of the seasons.
The early months of the year in Ireland are never the most hospitable in fact it is really the winter but as the initial month dragged February arrived with the appearance of the first snowdro p- 'with banners held aloft'. By then the initial dread pertaining to what I had in store for 'My Dream' had subsided and much thought was given to the coming breeding season and plans for the racing programme. The grizzle like his mates had come through a brilliant moult and he was the picture of vitality and health.
Now the National was to be a Friday release at 6 am weather permitting and as the fly from France into the north west of Ireland is a tough one I knew especially with a yearling never in a race before that we had to get it right. Yes, 'My Dream' and my self were the team that would participate. So I reflected upon the example of my late father who flew from French race points in the 50s of the last century into the north west of the Emerald Isle. In addition I read again the books of the old codger namely 'Old Hand' to refreshen what wisdom remained of his teachings. Bearing in mind that I had just returned to the sport of my youth after decades of non- involvement and I was aware of cob-webs in the terraces of my memory
The necessary reflection and reading refired my imagination so much so that I daily informed 'My Dream' in one way discussions about the programme for success. But in all truth by his response I knew that he understood for intelligence oozed from his beautiful eyes and owlish looks. In fact he wanted the action and couldn't wait for the day of departure to the land of the French.
Thus after rearing a couple of youngsters in the Spring of 2007 my grizzle mate was trained through the predator strewn highlands of the Sperrin mountains and followed by a few inland races he was then sent to one channel race from the island of Britain where he was consistent in his returns. He was then programmed to be sitting 11 days on eggs and off he went to face his ultimate challenge after a few training single-up flights of approximately 45 miles. All of which was completed satisfactorily.
On the morning of the convoys release the weather in France was quite good but the air flow was north- eastern and light occasional rain showers were expected over the English Channel and the Irish Sea. Being aware of what faced 'My Dream' on his tough journey I hoped and prayed that he would make it inspite of a growing dread centred around the question of 'Am I crazy?'. Also thoughts arose that all will be well even if he returns outside of race time. I was full of doubt and yet I still surveyed the skies from early on that day of release. As the hours dragged on my cup of hope drained and I began to look at the prospects of an early rise out of my slumbers to brace another day of waiting on 'My Dream'.
By 9-45 pm I felt a bit hungry and abandoned the white plastic garden chair to get a cup of tea and a raspberry centred pastry. Upon entering the kitchen my wife Sheila who was at the sink shouted 'There's a pigeon' and as I quickly returned to the loft the yearling grizzle was trotting wearily towards me on the landing board. My joy was of such a high that I hesitated timing in 'My Dream' but then quickly grabbed the corn tin and used my late father's ould refrain 'Come on, come on...' as the brave grizzle dropped through the bolting wires and then into his mate. I then removed the rubber ring , shuttled it, and clocked it with a sense of joy that was heavenly.
Following procedure I contacted a representative of the race organizers informing them that I had timed and then along with a friend drove to the designated clock centre with my clock. There upon arrival I was informed that 'My Dream' was so far the only pigeon reported in the race and as the unbearable time dragged on towards darkness in due course I was informed that I had won the Blue Riband of Irish racing with the only bird on the day of release.
Well I can tell you that on the drive back home I appeared to be flying above the car and as I arrived at my residence my wife thought that I had a mental break down as I phoned Labhan in Australia, Gaelan in Dublin, Saoirse in Manchester, and Canice in Derry plus my brother Tomas in Limavady to share with them the good news that my dream had been realized....
24/12/06
