TV VIEW: THE BOOKIES were beaming as they queued up to have a chat with RTÉ's Brian Gleeson at the Curragh, a bit of a hint that it had been a catastrophic day for the punters.

Apart, that is, for the man from Cork who, Brian told us through gritted teeth, had €1,200 each way at 33 to 1 on Frozen Fire, the Derby winner - by our maths that means the Lotto winner in Carlow will be asking him for a loan.

The big race itself was, well, a bit odd. You know the way it's impossible to steer a supermarket trolley in a straight line, you start off tight against the Pot Noodles on the left before careering uncontrollably to the right, ending up crashing into the pyramid of baked beans at the bottom of the aisle? That's kind of what it was like.

Johnny Murtagh's horse, Alessandro Volta, seemed to start the collective drift leftwards, as noted by an irate Ted Walsh.

"Big gangly oul horse, leery bugger," he said, "he wants to go anywhere but straight, the big divil."

Robert Hall was glad Ted got that off his chest; they could move on to talk about Frozen Fire, who . . .

"He keeps coming even when Johnny has the stick in his right hand, the so-and-so. He doesn't do anything about getting down to his job."

"Right," said Robert tactfully, "so now . . . "

"The Curragh Derby at the end June? They should be running as straight as a gun barrel."

D'you know, we never thought we'd see the day when Robert looked relieved to be dealing with fashion.

"The hat makes it, doesn't it?" Marietta Doran asked him after he'd snuck away from Ted.

"Oh, it absolutely makes it, yup," said Robert, having viewed a video of a woman who, apparently, had a live peacock sitting on her head.

"It's so fascinating, isn't it?" said Robert.

"You've got to have it everywhere, haven't you? From the hat to the toe and everything in between?"

"Yup," said Marietta.

Meanwhile.

"Look at them, these oul horses running all over the place - I HATE horses who run around all over the place. They ran like greenhorns - Jesus like, for top class three-year-olds! I think the people up in the stands were ducking for shelter there, they were coming so wide, I mean . . ."

Brian, though, while sympathising with Ted's irritation with the Supermarket Trolley Derby ("I thought I was watching a four-year-old bumper in Naas, they ran around so much"), enjoyed his day. We think.

"As always the Dubai Duty Free Derby is a special day in racing; it never fails to disappoint."

Up the road in Clones, Armagh failed to disappoint in the first half of their Ulster semi-final against Down, but were less pleasing on the eye after the break, their cause not helped by having a man put off.

"We were riding the donkey close to the tail," explained the Armagh manager Peter McDonnell, but we're using "explained" loosely here.

"Riding the donkey close to the tail? I presume that's something you do in south Armagh," said Joe Brolly back in the studio. "It's a very odd part of the world."

And so, to be honest about it, has been the part of the planet inhabited by John Motson these past few decades, which is one of the reasons why we were in mourning ahead of his final commentary last night.

There are, of course, mixed views on Motty's commentating abilities, 99 per cent not being fans, but those of us in the one per cent bracket will miss him dearly, not least for all those sublime moments he provided, eg, "Actually, none of the players is wearing earrings. Kjeldberg, with his contact lenses, is the closest we can get."

Happy retirement, Motty.

And, of course, Liamo Brady is leaving us too, swapping Gilesie and The Dunph for the company of Trap and Tardelli.

We felt he was at ease with his decision when he appeared on Miriam O'Callaghan's show on Saturday night, specifically at the moment Dunphy threw him a glance as he sang the words, "When our love was new and each kiss an inspiration . . ."

Liamo's face said something like, "I wouldn't have come on tonight if I'd known he was going to sing that."

The performance of the night, though, came from Gilesie, whose luscious rendition of Nat King Cole's The Very Thought of Youwas a salute to the powers of Bacardi and Coke.

"I see your face in every flower," he crooned, half Sonny Knowles, half Dustin the Turkey, "your eyes in stars above, it's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, myyyyyyyy love."

An evidently moved Dunphy gave him a kiss, Bill O'Herlihy and Miriam applauded enthusiastically, Liamo's face said something like, "Stone the crows." And with that, like Alessandro Volta, he veered left. Towards the exit.