Vinny's Bismarck:NOTHING UNITED the lads in Foley's like a sweepstake for the Grand National at Aintree, an event they always shortlisted on their list of favourite sporting gigs.

The sweep was Macker’s show and once again last Saturday afternoon he assumed his status as honorary organiser.

First he wrote out, if that was the correct word for his scrawl was utterly illegible, the names of the 40 horses on a betting slip from Boru Betting. Then, he scrunched them up into tiny balls of paper and placed them in an empty pint glass.

Before a horse was drawn out, Macker solemnly collected €20 a head and instantly worked out the dividend. “Winner gets €80, second gets €30, third a tenner. Agreed?” he said.

The five middle-aged men around him, pints of stout at the reach, nodded in agreement.

They all had more riding on the outcome of the National than a score in the sweep kitty – in Vinny Fitzpatrick’s case considerably more – but bragging rights among the lads in Foley’s was a priceless commodity.

As Macker licked the stub of his pencil and prepared to pass around the pint glass, Shanghai Jimmy piped up. “There are 40 runners this year. If we divide by six, we’ve four left over. What about the spares Macker?”

Macker paused. Some years, when there was a maximum field, he drew out all the horses which meant four of the lads would have seven horses; while two others had six. Other years he didn’t; it was always his call.

“We’ll give everyone six horses and treat the remaining four that are left over as non-runners.

“If they finish in the first three, and the odds are they won’t, we’ll draw a line through them and bump up the next horse a place,” he said. “Right, let’s go.”

It took almost 20 minutes to conduct the draw. Macker’s hieroglyphics were bad enough but it took an age to unravel the tiny fragments of paper, while there were accompanying howls of derision to those allotted outsiders.

Vinny felt he was given short shrift. First out was Arteea, a 200 to 1 rank outsider, then Cerium, Fleet Street and Zabenz, all 100 to 1 shots. Things improved, if only marginally, when he drew former winner Silver Birch at 40 to 1 and State of Play at 14 to 1.

Holding the whip hand was Brennie, who had three fancies, Butler’s Cabin, Big Fella Thanks and Darkness. “It’s all over lads, show me the money,” he said excitedly.

Fran’s great hopes were Irish Invader and Southern Vic; Kojak was looking to Snowy Morning and Offshore Account, while Macker felt Rambling Minster and L’Ami were the pick of his six contenders.

Shanghai Jimmy wore a satisfied look as his selections included Black Apalachi, the well-fancied Irish horse trained by Dessie Hughes, and Stan.

“I heard that trainer Venetia Williams is sweet on this one. The stable jockey, young Aidan Coleman, has gone for it too over some other horse from the yard.

“I’ve a nifty-50 each way and I’m feeling lucky. Anything Trap can do, Stan can do better,” he said with a gummy smile.

As the official recorder, Macker then made the startling observation. “Lads, you’ll never guess but by my reckoning we didn’t draw Comply or Die or My Will, two of the big guns. Can you credit that?” he said, getting to his feet and heading for the bar.

“That leaves two others,” mused Vinny with mild interest. “Sure, it won’t matter what they are. We have 36 horses out of the 40 running for us. What are the odds of a winner coming out of the other four?” he thought to himself.

By now, the runners were milling around at the start, which always gave Vinny the heebie jeebies. He loved the Grand National more than any other sporting event, more than the US Masters, The Open, the Dubs, the Irish soccer team, even Everton if he was pushed to admit it.

Ever since he’d seen the Foinavon National on a snowy black and white telly with his old man Finbarr over 40 years ago, he’d marvelled at the massive fences, the bravery of horse and rider.

Betting-wise, he’d struck it lucky more than once; Red Rum (1977), Corbiere (1983), Rhyme N’Reason (1988), Red Marauder (2001) and Hedgehunter (2005) had kept him in the black over the years. His fingertips and toes were fizzing by the time the starter, one of those fussy types, finally let the horses off, at the fourth time of asking. For the next nine and a half minutes, he was hooked.

Bit by bit, fence by fence, there were howls of anguish from the lads. Shanghai was the first to moan when Stan fell and he was apoplectic with rage when Black Apalachi parted company with Denis O’Regan at Becher’s second time around.

Vinny too was fuming as Silver Birch tumbled at the same fence but State Of Play was still trucking along so there was hope. Turning for home, a wall of horses approached the second last in line and everyone in Foley’s, it seemed, was on their feet. Brennie was going ballistic, Fran and Kojak were screaming encouragement, even Vinny let out a roar as he saw unlikely green silks appear on the outside. “Go on Arteea, ye good thing,” he shouted.

And then, as soon as it was game on, it was game over. On the inside, another green-clad charge bolted clear at the last and took flight at The Elbow.

It was Mon Mome, the unfancied, unheralded, fellow stablemate of Stan, who pulled away to win as he liked, accompanied by a deafening silence in Foley’s.

“Well,” said Vinny. “Who had yer man in the sweep?”

Macker looked around. “It’s gone very quiet lads. I don’t suppose, he was one of the four we didn’t pick out. C’mon, let’s check what’s left in the glass.”

The four tiny pieces of paper were unfurled and Macker’s writing was pored over. Comply Or Die, My Will, Kilbeggan Blade and Mon Mome were the four horses balloted out of the sweep. Incredibly, three of them were the first three past the post.

“What next Macker?” asked Shanghai.

“We simply move on to the horses that were fourth, fifth and sixth. That’s where the money goes now,” said Macker.

Brennie chipped in first. “I’m due a tenner for Big Fella Thanks so, as he was sixth,” he said.

There was a silence before Vinny coughed, a touch apologetically. “I’ve got State Of Play and Cerium, fourth and fifth. Winner all right, lads?” he said with a grin, adding: “Talk about the National being a lottery. Right, what are yez all having?”

1 pt e.w. Henrik Stenson to be top European in US Masters (11/1, Skybet)

1pt e.w. Royal County Star in Irish Grand National (10/1, Paddy Power)

2pt Lay Leinster to beat Harlequins in Heineken Cup (Evens, Bet365, liability, 2pts)