IF you’re down in the Kingdom, a successful sporting year should come to a climax in September. If the dates fall correctly, Sam Maguire’s in the parade ring along with the horses for the Listowel Harvest Festival. If he’s not, he’s still expected next year.

You wouldn’t expect the Kerry National to be the beginning of it all, though.

Last September, Sam was missing but would you have thought as the horses circled for the Kerry National, that on view was not only the winner of the Irish Grand National but also the biggest prize of all, the Grand National itself.

Harvest saved, Listowel is the unofficial start of the winter game, the jump season proper. The triumph of Rogue Angel in Kerry heralded the beginning of an incredible year for Gigginstown but more so for Mouse Morris, not long after suffering a tragic loss in the summer.

Rogue Angel’s Kerry win would have satisfied. The Irish National was more than enough, but to add the Grand National itself, well, that was the cup that over flowed.

Between them, Rici Ricci and Gigginstown have annexed Leopardstown’s Irish Gold Cup and Champion Hurdle, Cheltenham’s Ryanair Chase and Champion Hurdle, the Aintree Hurdle and Gigginstown, the Gold Cup and Irish and Aintree Grand Nationals.

While Ricci is aligned with Mullins, Gigginstown have latched on to the upwardly mobile trainers like Gordon Elliott and make good use of the eager younger riders. They also remained wise to the wiles of those who have been around much longer.

Saying too much of Gigginstown was bad for racing carried no weight around this April day. Mouse Morris racehorse trainer, may not have been still in business had the maroon and white colours not hung up inside.

Everyone remembers their first National bet. Mine was the near-white grey, Prolan trained by Edward O’Grady and ridden by Mouse Morris. Age does not weary the memory as John Francome brought him down when he nose-dived over Becher’s on Golden Rapper. It was the feature National photograph in the Sunday papers.

Mouse Morris felt the Aintree turf long before Michael O’Leary had the gleam of a Gold Cup victory in his eye or cast aside the businessman’s bluster for the thrill of the winner’s enclosure.

The much-quoted comment after the National was, there’s no one like Mouse for readying a horse for the big day.

LONE SOLDIER

Way before the current abundance of high class jump horses brought the now annual expectation of double figure success at Cheltenham, Morris sent Trapper John, returning a lone soldier from his festival win.

If National Hunt racing exists in a different atmosphere now, many thousands of smoked Majors later, little has changed with the Morris methods.

Buoyed by trainer confidence, young David Mullins was coolness personified in delivering the dream win. We’ve said it before, but you couldn’t write the script.

If Kerry expect Sam, further north, there’s little chance of Sam Maguire appearing in the Wee County, but five miles north, we hit the country of another rather unkempt genius.

Kavanagh wrote: “God is in the bits and pieces of everyday - A kiss here and a laugh again, and sometimes tears”. And that was this Grand National day. You could believe there was some divine intervention in the bits and pieces of this race.

A Great Hunger satisfied, Elliott and Morris both now Grand National and Gold Cup winning trainers.

For once I find agreement with John McCririck in that heaven would be a boring old place if only the “good” people were let in.

Events at Aintree gave hope for all. There might well be a place for a scraggy 65-year-old who needs the smokes every day of the year and a haircut just the once.

Though St Peter might confiscate the fags.