A select crew (Anyone drunk enough to volunteer!) gathered at Ireland’s
Forty Shades of Green Bar to carry the Equinics torch over from ASR.
There was; Quietman - in charge of Beer/Guiness supply for the trip, Erno
the clever one, who will know where we are going, the prolific gamblers Omally
and Au22!
New boy Martin (Darley85), because team NEXIS would not let
him on their trip! And lastly, me (the muscle who would actually carry the torch!).
I’m not joking about that last point, either! I’ve been working out for this important
job more than my horses have for their races! Hey, even Pete Andre would be jealous of my pecs!
DAY 1
It was over our first pint that I realized I had no idea where we were
going to pick this torch up from. ASR - what country’s that meant to be?!
Quietman however informed me we would be collecting it from a “top secret
location…we don’t want any of those pushy SRF journalists on our trail!”
So after a little while we waved goodbye to the Equinics Crew staying at home;
Techranger, Thomkal, Roys et al, looking after our stables whilst
we are on our travels. The windows of our minibus (We know how to travel in style at Ireland!)
were blackened, so we could not see where we were going and no journalists could get
a picture of the mysterious Quietman, or was it to save Omally’s blushes,
after his classic rendition of Destiny’s Child’s “Bootylicious” went undocumented.
DAY 2
First off, I’m not 100% certain this was Day 2, it just felt like it! Anyway,
we did finally get of the minibus and were led to a darkened den (I actually wondered if we’d
been captured by the Taleban!) only to find a collection of ASR members gathered round
an Oak Table (Don’t ask me how they got it there!) playing poker. The only light came from
a giant torch – the sacred Equinics flame itself! Gaz invited us to play;
the others seemed to follow Au22’s lead, though I was more hesitant.
I’d heard these ASR boys are as sly at cards as the DelPenn geezers!
Against my (And my wallet’s) will I did join in. The less said about the
outcome the better. I think I did the worst, ($3million down, no joke!) although Darley85
did lose quite a bit on a side bet that his horse Dawn Doug could beat Crass Kelly
anytime, anyplace. He had drunk a lot! But anyway, these will be the only Equinic’s
event which ASR beats us in!
DAY 3
The journey home begins. The ASR crew had long gone (With all my cash!!!) by the time we
woke. The only thing left for us was the Equinic’s flame! As we left the cave we were
greeted by a convoy of press vehicles, flocks of TV crews and swarms of buzzing journalists!
“Looks like they’ve found us!” Quietman despaired. However, Erno
calculated that by selling his story to the DRF, we would have enough cash to get
back home in a vehicle big enough for a giant torch! So while Erno was chatting to the
reporters (Claiming I continually quoted “Shaggy” songs all evening. Hey Erno, “It wasn’t me!)
the rest of us obtained a horsebox to take us home.
It may not have been the most glamorous of vehicles the Equinic’s torch traveled on,
but it got us home at least. Though I think Omally may take some time to recover –
I warned him sitting on the wheel hub was risky, especially with Au22 driving!
DAY 4
We returned to The Forty Shades of Green Bar triumphant.
(Though this was just a warm-up for February 10th, when we get back from Hong Kong and Vermont)
Most of the 111 resident stables had at least 1 representative at our very own “Equinics Party”.
Where Father Doyle blessed the torch and Ireland’s raiding
Equinics squad of 30 of the finest SIM horses. I on behalf of the other
Ireland residents would also like to thank Thomkal, Dagrims and of course
“Da boss” Techranger for all their work in leading Ireland to the
biggest SIM event of the year. GO IRELAND!
by Zinjahal
And In The Streets of Ireland...
By DanCards (AKA Thomkal)
0/~ And in the streets of Ireland all the children had to do was play. ~/0
The lyrics of this Anne Murray song, "A Little Good News" keeps coming back to haunt me since the tragedy that is September 11th. Ireland is far far away from New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, but certainly is far too close to the horror, fear, and sorrow that terrorism brings. There are many people now worldwide, child and adult alike, who wish all they had to do was play, but the realities of their lives prove this impossible.
Ever since that fateful day I've felt a personal attachment to the bombed out remains of the World Trade Center. I shrugged it off as being due to the fact that I'm a native New York Stater, born and raised just 90 minutes north of the City. But still something haunted me, like an elusive whisper of wind at your hair that sent a chill down your spine even though it was 90 degrees at the time.
So maybe that's why I jumped at the chance to organize Ireland's Equinics effort-to keep my mind off that song lyric and that damned day. As we all gathered in the Forty Shades of Green Bar for the blessing of the Equinics torch and the horses that would be representing Ireland, I managed a smile there at Zinjahal describing the Torch's somewhat perilous (and often hilarious) journey through the countryside, a laugh there at Spudeater (also known as Dagrims) rolling off one after another ridiculously funny horse name he planned to use this breeding season. Techranger, Ireland's leader, kept asking me if I was okay, but I just nodded and went back to reading a letter I had received just that day from the States.
After September 11th I felt Ireland could make a strong statement or push towards a new world unity given their history. So I spared no expense in organzing the last part of the ceremony before we turn the Torch over to the next resident stable in line.
Some so-called "clever lad" had designed Ireland's track and facilities in the shape of a large four-leaf clover. The track was in the center of it, where the four leaves of the clover came together. Along the leaves were the resident stables and all the other necessary buildings. My idea was to have the torch follow all four leaves of the clover then come to a special torch display where a piece of the Torch would stay lit until the last Equinics race had been run. Along the path of the Torch's travels through the leaves the current torch bearer would point the torch at the stable where an Equinics runner was being quartered and announce the name of both horse and trainer.
From the "noisy ones" like Erno who could probably go on for years with all the pedigree knowledge threatening to overflow from his brain, not to mention his unique and quite successful take on how best to race a new sim horse to find its true ability. From the quiet ones like Tisjuliet, Derbyking, and others who's voice we'd like to hear more of. From the ones who are moving on like the Quietman collection of stables (we'll miss you!) to the ones who can't seem to get enough of us-the recently largely expanded Gustav stables. From those that offer their voices from time to time such as Saltwindfa, Zinjahal, and Tipperary, to those who've offered so much to the sim-Stickup and FleurDeLis (also known as Roys and Wahoo, but Shhh! I didn't tell you that) And from an Equinics organizer herself, Shamrocks (LadySecret) who certainly did not have the luck of the Irish on her side as the two horses she nominated were felled by injuries.
The "statement" I decided to add since the Equinics was being run in tribute to those who lives were lost and changed on September 11th, was one of Equinic tradition, Irish nature, and world unity. I had flown in from Greece, where the flame originated, large bundles of Greek grape vine. To this I added Irish clover, heather and native flowers. In a secret location in the Irish countryside, I paid Irish artisans very well (with kegs of Guiness) to craft the symbol of peace-the dove, with the assembled materials. Each was attached with the utmost care to sticks lovingly carved from branches cut from native Irish hickory.
As the Torch made its way around the leaves of the clover, trainers and workers at the Ireland track lined the route, holding the newly made doves high above the bearers. But in amonsgt the Ireland track people were people, just people. Faith, color, or creed did not matter here. Together there stood a Catholic and a Protestant, there a black man and a white woman, there a Jew and a Muslim. Standing as one with smiles on their faces-their day had come at last to play.
At last the Torch made its way to the special cauldron where Ireland would keep its small part of the Equinics Flame. Carved out of Greek marble, a tall pillar stood, just short enough so the final bearers could reach it. Surrounding the base of the pillar was a wreath of clover, surrounding the edge of the cauldron was a ring of emeralds shining brightly. The torch was handed off to Dagrims, Techranger, and myself, and when the two made to give the honor of lighting the cauldron to me, I refused and held their hands to the Torch. Ireland wouldn't have had a Equinics team without them, so they deserved the honor as well. Just as the first embers sparkled to life in the cauldron, life in the form of doves, real ones this time of feather and blood erupted from behind the cauldron to their new found freedom. All in all it was in my mind at least, a perfect ceremony and a perfect way to begin to unite the world. From there the torch left Ireland's hands and continued on its journey.
The celebration lasted on through the night, and you can imagine what wacky stories emerged from all those parties, half of which you didn't believe, the other half you didn't want to believe. It's amazing what alcohol does to people isn't it?
I attend numerous parties and had a good time despite myself. But as even the most diehard partygoes settled in for the night (or just passed out where they were), I snuck out with a makeshift torch and stole a bit of the flame for myself. I snuck back equally stealthily (well as equally stealthily as one can with a torch in one hand) to my own stable, Infinity Stables.
There I quickly came upon a miniature version of the pillar and cauldron from outside, surrounded with clover and emeralds. Before lighting this cauldron though I picked up the letter I had received earlier and read it once again by torch light. Remember that personal attachment I felt to the World Trade destruction? Well finally, after all this time had passed, I had my answer. Someone I knew had died in the World Trade Center. A friend of a friend, but a friend just the same.
Chris Orgrecewicz was his name, and he was the best friend of one of my closest friends. We had met a few times, and spent some hours together, and I was always struck by how vibrant, how full of life, he was. He seemed to have his head squarely attached to his shoulders, and confidence seemed to nearly pour from his skin. He was nearly everything I could have wished for in myself.
Chris left behind a wife and three young children. My own grief was nothing next to theirs and my friend's. I could only hope that someday all his children had to do was play and for a time at least, not miss their father. I tucked the letter into my pocket, and at last lit my own personal cauldron. This one would not be extinguished however at the end of the Equinics, but would burn forever. This life would not be snuffed out without a thought for the pain its passing would cause.
I had added one additional feature to my..no Chris's cauldron. There on a plaque of pounded gold was two words in Irish green, "FOR CHRIS". I stroked it for a moment as I said a prayer to fairies, druids, leprechauns, and whatever version of God that would listen that Chris's children and wife would be protected and find happiness again.
As I left my stable to go home, it struck me that I had my own idea for a new horse's name. "For Chris." I would have to scour the lands for a newbred with the same confidence, vitality, and life as Chris, but I would find him or her, and perhaps if we all really believe, he or she can bring us all together as one people.
