Racing: The singular appeal of Beef Or Salmon

Cheltenham Festival: The horse who sounds like a steward's enquiry unquestionably has the talent to thrill a nation

Adare, in County Limerick, is quaintsville. According to some, it is "the prettiest village in Ireland" or, as my cynical driver refers to it, "the kinda place that is expert at parting Americans from their money". On your left, Adare Manor, once the Earl of Dunraven's pile, now a golfing haven which has enticed Tiger Woods and Bill Clinton. Into the village and on the banks of the River Maigue stands Desmond Castle, or what Cromwell left of it.

But, as they say, the most spectacular sights are often the best-hidden ones, and two miles outside the village, in the midst of cattle and horse country, you eventually chance upon Lisaleen Stables, residence of Ireland's great chestnut hope for this week's Cheltenham Gold Cup, Beef Or Salmon. For a horse trained in Ireland to claim National Hunt racing's ultimate prize is decidedly overdue. Imperial Call was the last, in 1996. Before that, it's a further 10 years back to the majestic Dawn Run. Statistically, it gets worse for Michael Hourigan's seven-year-old. Not since Captain Christy in 1974 has a novice won a Gold Cup.

Atop the woodchip gallops of a training establishment which is the equivalent of Champneys with some strenuous work routines thrown in, "Salmon", Hourigan's pet name for his charge, nuzzles the trainer's chest, then paws the ground impatiently. He is as anxious as his master to get on with the job.

Can something that sounds more like a waitress's enquiry than a racehorse really be a star in the making? The looks affirm his burgeoning reputation: all muscled shoulders and powerful backside. Like a human who had seriously pumped iron. "No flaw in him, but that miserable tail hanging off him," says Hourigan. "His character's good, though. He's easy to look after, easy to do anything with, easy training him."

Salmon has it all, apart from what would be deemed essential in any other horse for the task ahead: experience. It's like pitching Wayne Rooney into a World Cup final and expecting him to flourish. Yet in this, only his second full season, the gelding's unbeaten four attempts over fences have included victories in the prestigious Ericsson Chase and Hennessy Gold Cup, both at Leopardstown, and if ever audacity and a determination to defy tradition won races, Hourigan, a pugnacious-looking, squat figure, would be invincible.

Certainly, surges of support will be felt all the way from here, near the Shannon, to Cheltenham. That's if you can identify "here". Confusingly, the stables are listed as being in Patrickswell, the name of the next village. It's also the name of the parish which contains Adare. "The stable address may say Patrickswell, but Beef Or Salmon belongs to us," declares the receptionist at the Heritage Centre in Adare proprietorially. "And we'll all be rooting for him on Thursday."

Many will also travel to Prestbury Park. "I hear a lot of local guys will be at Cheltenham who might not be going if Salmon wasn't in the Gold Cup," remarks Ann, Hourigan's wife of nearly 30 years. The pressure does not disturb her. She has experienced it all before when Dorans Pride, another novice then, attempted the same in 1997 and finished third. "You just hope for a clear round from our horse," says Ann Hourigan. "If he gets beat, he'll fight another year."

Ann has been integral to the operation ever since farmer's daughter met cattle-dealer's son. From a modest two-up, two-down cottage, they now reside in an imposing washed yellow, neo-Georgian property. The eldest of their five children, Michael, a former champion amateur in Britain, and Kay help run the yard. Paul is a jump jockey and Laura a highly regarded bumper rider. The youngest, Mark, is only nine and more interested in football. "The secret is hard work, but we have our heart and soul in what we do; we're a very good team," says Hourigan, 55. "Ann can muck out and drive the lorry. There's nothing either of us can't do, except my wife is better with the owners. My attitude is, 'Give me the horse and let me train it. And don't annoy me'."

He speaks in a subdued, almost soporific burr, but you imagine that a Hourigan holler can crack like a whip when occasion demands it. "We've gone upmarket these days," he confides. "We've got a secretary now. But I still sleep with the old one..."

Hourigan's features acquired non-flattering surgery when a mare he was riding spun round, dislodged him, and flattened his nose at The Curragh in 1962. He hated school, and to escape had become a Flat jockey. "I wasn't a good one. I rode nine winners, plus five over jumps. But I didn't have the bottle for it, really." His training career began inauspiciously, keeping horses behind the pub his mother ran in nearby Rathkeale. "All I wanted to do was train a winner. It took me seven years. In my wildest dreams I never thought I'd be where I am today."

The Salmon story began at Goffs Land Rover sale over two years ago, when a gelding by an American sire, Catejano, caught his eye. "It's like one of those women you like the look of when she passes by; you must have a second look," he says mischievously. Hourigan paid £6,200. His owners, bedding manufacturer Joe Craig and Dan McLernon, a hotelier, have since been offered – and rejected – £320,000 for the horse, named after the fairly basic choice of dishes available at a local restaurant.

"I was always confident he'd win races, but being Gold Cup second favourite, that's a big bonus," declares Hourigan. "Certainly, since he started this season I had no doubt about him. He was a natural jumper of fences. He's the best horse in the race, I'd say the one with the most class. But the best horse doesn't always win the Gold Cup."

He adds quietly: "It would be a great fairytale for Timmy Murphy to ride the winner. I'd love that. That man has come back from the brink." The shamed Irish jockey, a former protégé of Hourigan, reclaimed his freedom on 22 October last year after an 84-day stretch at Wormwood Scrubs. Murphy had been convicted of indecently assaulting an attendant and being drunk on board an aircraft on a flight home from Japan, and received a six-month sentence.

It was to his former mentor that Murphy turned immediately after leaving prison. He spent a week at the stables, where he had once been champion point-to-point jockey. Less than two months later, he was partnering Beef Or Salmon to his second victory over fences.

Some trainers might have spurned the disgraced rider. Indeed, some have, according to Hourigan. "People have turned their back on him. Why? He didn't murder anyone. He rode super horses last year for [Paul] Nicholls. But they use him now just to suit themselves. Not me."

The trainer adds: "We were thrilled when Timmy came to us. We talked about the case, of course, but it's history now. He was out of order. I'd agree with that. If he'd done it when he was sober, I would not forgive him. But there was drink involved, he was high in the sky, and it affects people differently. He got on the plane with drink and they kept giving him more. And his friends didn't look after him. He was guilty, yet he was innocent. He didn't deserve what he got. He did what he did, and probably didn't even know it."

Hourigan believes Murphy is riding better than ever, and is "twice the person he was before he went into prison". He adds: "For a while I thought he was lazy, with a chip on his shoulder, but that's now well and gone. He's Timmy Murphy the man now."

That's some rehabilitation process. And some reward for Hourigan's faith in his jockey. In four days' time, both will discover whether Beef Or Salmon will be on the menu of Festival greats.