WE’VE been here before. And, we’ll be here again. It’s still hard to contemplate how, that which gives you success and adulation, thrills thousands and thousands of fans, should also be so cruel to take a hero’s life.

We’ve been here before but somehow this seemed to hit more people harder.

Jockeys are too often just interchangeable images in racing colours. We regularly debate which horses to put on our covers, rarely which jockey.

But through modern mediums of communication, social and TV interviews, we get closer to the riders nowadays, we share their delight in success much more, and get excited by new young talent.

Michael O’Sullivan had so much done, but so much to do. So many have paid tribute from stable staff up through all those who had dealings with him. None more poignant than his father William at his funeral service, another where we were allowed to be present by modern communications.

One sentence kind of hit home in William O’Sullivan’s fine tribute to his son. “It gives us comfort to know that his last thoughts would have been of anticipation, determination and excitement.”

I have been as guilty as many in forgetting the riders as horses go flat out to the last fence, wrapped up in the excitement of the moment, to even have a niggle at those who don’t drive for the long stride, who play safer, lose half a length.

This is a different sport. It’s miles awau from the getting vexed because Nunez misses another sitter. Those hours of grumbling are eventually sated, sure, maybe he’ll get it on target next time. Michael O’Sullivan had so much ahead of him. But there’s no next time.

Into every saddle cloth, a few pounds of danger are packed away, riding on the back of a racehorse, and the rider takes the brunt of any error.

This sport can give so much, but it isn’t always kind – Ruby Walsh wrote last week in his Examiner column. Your sport, your desire to win at it, should not bring the end of a life. In recent times, it’s also taken Craig Breen, John Cooney and now Michael O’Sullivan. Racing lost Jack de Bromhead, Jack Tyner, J.T McNamara, in the last decade, injured and lost doing what they loved.

It was hard to sit and write this week. I didn’t know Michael O’Sullivan. Only met him once when seated beside him at the HRI Awards in 2023, when the stable was nominated for Marine Nationale’s wins. But you couldn’t but be impressed by the young man.

Jockeys come in all shapes and sizes and all manner of characters. He told me of how he had made a big effort to get his degree, to have it done to ever fall back on. A Corkman, with a burgeoning racing career and a Dublin college must have taken some effort.

Ruby Walsh wrote in the Examiner on Saturday week... why has it not scared them before they start?

Because it’s their dream, they love it, they want it, and once they have felt it, they can’t let it go. ….. The thrill of the speed hooks them, the ecstasy of winning delights them, and the pain of falling or losing only ignites the passion to do it all again.

It hooks us too, but from our safe armchairs. We never think that some may rise but one may not. This tragedy may make us appreciate that all the more.

Hollow feeling

There will still be a hollow feeling in that Cheltenham roar that rises for the Supreme Novices this year. We’ll be thinking of Michael, and his hour of glory two years ago.

The great Alastair Down’s memorable lines, writing on the premature loss of a very talented horse many years ago described it as. “It was a sad sunset, just after mid-day.”

Michael didn’t even get past mid-day in his career and life. But what he had done up to then, put him in a place where he got so much admiration.

We won’t forget him. Rest in peace, Michael. May your family and friends take some little comfort in how highly you were thought of and the lasting impression you left in your too short career. Ride on.