K I E R E N FA L L O N turbulence, when his follies saw him squander opportunities that would have exceeded the combined lifetime expectations of ten people. As he trawls the wreckage, he finds one common denominator. “The regret is that I never had someone, one person, to help me along that journey,” he says. “I always try to help young lads coming through today, because it is a rollercoaster. You have to have someone with you
who genuinely wants to help you, and those people are very hard to find in racing. “It’s a different way in Ireland,” he continues. “I grew up basically living off the land and enjoyed it; it was such a happy, healthy way to live. It is a massive change to go from that kind of background to winning big races all over Europe. You can handle the ruthlessness, the pressure, the rat-race mentality. It’s what happens in the background you need guidance with.”
Harsh lessons learned He is also not enamoured by his formative years in racing. “It was very old-school,” he reflects. “When you did well they didn’t pat you on the back, they kicked you up the arse. You are brought up to be tough, you’re not supposed to cry; it can be a hard way. “I’m not sure how much good it did me, because one thing we all need when we start out is a bit of self-esteem,” he continues. “You don’t get that when you grow up that way. You have no confidence at all.” He was keen
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for his three children to avoid such mental angst. While he still sees them, they, as young adults, have their own agendas. His eldest, Natalie, is now 20, while the twins, Brittany and Cieren, are 15. There is obvious pride in his voice as he relates Cieren’s talent for rugby, soccer and cross-country running. As adolescents, Fallon’s children always asked why he never smiled when he’d ridden a big winner. “I wish I could wind back the clock and enjoy those moments a bit more than I did,” he concedes.
“I didn’t appreciate all those good horses. It came so easily and I just saw it as my job, something I had to do” “I didn’t appreciate all those good horses. It came so easily to me and I just saw it as my job, something I had to do. But that’s the way I was: I’d be rewinding the race back in my head, thinking about where the horse should run next, rather than waving and jumping around the place. People say that Ryan [Moore] is always miserable but that’s not how it is. I can see he is deep in thought.” It remains to be seen whether Fallon has the opportunity to revisit the winner’s circle on big occasions. Although he feels the legacy of that Old Bailey trial still clings to him like a stain, he takes heart from a recent medical examination from which he emerged in excellent physical shape. That alone is an insufficient testimonial for any jockey. Their mental state is equally important, and in this, Fallon is convinced he has found the key. “I wasn’t enjoying it last year,” he says. “I wasn’t even getting out of bed, but I have completely turned it around. Even if I don’t get good rides I still want to get up and ride good horses in the mornings. It’s the feeling you get from them; you just can’t explain it.” Fallon may be unable to annunciate the feeling but he readily acknowledges what has happened to him. The feeling of riding a horse is what drew him to racing in the first place. For all the subsequent fame and tribulations that contaminated that simple pleasure, he has now rediscovered it. He is back where he started, in thrall to those four-legged creatures that appeal to so many in so many different ways. As he puts it: “Riding out at 6am with the breeze in your face is a beautiful thing.” THOROUGHBRED OWNER & BREEDER INC PACEMAKER